Hitting the Ground Running

(eating pommes frites in the Grand Place)

So anyway, when we landed in Frankfurt, tired and forlorn, we met my brother Zack and got one night's rest before continuing on a 4-day tour of the Low Countries (Belgium and the Netherlands). We drove Friday morning to Brussels, the capital of Belgium and the European Union, where we proceeded to get rained on off and on. Brussels, like many old European cities, has a sort of charm which is not diminished in the rain, probably like you would have if you got rained on nearly every day for hundreds of years. Brussels doesn't have a lot of famous sites (except the Mannikin Pis, the statue of a little boy urinating which is the symbol of the city - no one is sure why), so the main tourist attractions involve eating.

I was initially skeptical of this, since the first food I thought of was Brussel sprouts, but apparently that isn't really a hot item here. The four foods you are supposed to eat in Brussels are

1) pommes frites (like French Fries, except that the Belgian apparently invented them, and you're supposed to eat them with mayo instead of ketchup)
2) chocolate (no problem there)
3) waffles (they actually are Belgian, it turns out)
4) mussels (moules in French)

The first three seemed to make sense, but what about these mussels (aside from the fact that they rhyme with Brussels, albeit only in English)? Apparently mussels and pommes frites are to Belgium as a burger and fries are to America, only they're a lot more work to actually consume. At any rate, we ate all of them and saw many old buildings and a pretty amiable beer festival in the rain at the Grand Place. (possibly the best Belgian waffles in the world)

Crossing the Pond

Well, we made it over. Not that it was an easy process, mind you - moving to another country brings up all sorts of considerations you never thought of before. For one thing, it costs a lot of money, which leads you to work at your summer job up until the last minute, which leaves you less time to pack everything you'll need for a year into two suitcases, which leaves wondering why perhaps your parents couldn't have been oil tycoons so you could have been packing all summer, which leads you to begin contemplating interdimensionality and time paradoxes. You know how it goes.

Though I lived in the small town of Pittsfield, IL for most of my life, it still surprises me. The lady at the post office who had to deal with my large amount of flat-rate boxes, who I don't think I've ever seen except at the post office, knew I'd just been married and that I was moving. The lady behind me in line at the post office not only knew I was moving, but had just stopped by my mom's office to give me a card (I don't think I'd met her in my entire life). Then, on the last day in Pittsfield, I'd transferred a prescription to Wal-Mart to get it filled before we left, because I don't want to bother with it in England for a while. The girl at the counter (who I didn't know, either) not only knew my name and knew why I was coming, but proceeded to tell me that they were out of the prescription and would have to order more, which would take a couple of days. I was about to tell her not to bother, since we were leaving town the next day, when she said, "But I knew you're leaving soon, so I checked at County Market, and they have it, so I can transfer it over there if you'd like." Sheesh. Everybody doesn't know everybody, but it seems like they all know you.

Anyway, on Sept. 2, we were driven to Chicago, where we had a very gracious checker-in lady from Aer Lingus who coolly ignored the fact that all four of our suitcases were overweight. We flew to Dublin, then to London Gatwick, where we met our friend Jon for lunch - small world. We then took a long bus ride to London Stansted, where we met our friend Tobi, who by some miracle lives 15 minutes from Cambridge -very small world. Since we're flying Ryan Air, we wanted to avoid checking bags (very expensive), so Tobi picked up our excess bags and we just took carry-ons with us to Germany, where we'll stay until the end of September. It was a long journey, and not one either of us would care to repeat soon, but we made it safely to Germany and met my brother Zack, who is so graciously putting us up (and putting up with us) for three weeks.

Hope things are good in the old country.