rokh wanders wonders

Breakfast @ Grand Place, Brussels, Belgium

Sitting here staring at the grandeur of grand place on Brussels, having waffles just because it’s Belgium and of course my important coffee of the day is indeed relaxing. Now I’m starting to consume this place. And I just love the building at the background, it’s somewhat grand yet humble and comforting, thus my choice of slow breakfast in view of it.

Before this I just  had a hot ale to warm me up, I didn’t know that hot alcohol can be so tasty! Definitely good for a cold wintery day. I’ve definitely sin enough in terms of food and drinks in Belgium. I had waffles during mid morning on the way in the train. Then my ‘lunch’ was copious amount of fries drenched with ketchup, mayo and sour onions. Then I had a tour at a beer factory which ended with beer tasting for the traditional and the one steep with fruits. Not to mention the in between tastings of chocolate, chocolate and more chocolate. After that dinner was fried mussels swimming in butter and lemon finished off with a brune beer, hey we are in Belgium after all. Before retiring, I head out in search for a hot cup of chocolate, and hey we are still in Belgium after all.

Manneken Pis @ Brussels, Belgium

Oh and of course the pissing boy. What? Yes the boy who piss. He’s known as Manneken Pis. Apparently he is the icon here and your visit is not complete without searching for him and act surprise finding him so small a statue yet so big in fame. I think it’s the absurdity of it that makes it so famous. Lucky me I caught him in of his outfits day, and this time he is happily dress in hip-hop style and pissing away ‘cool-y’

Night Scene @ Brussels, Belgium

That about sum up Belgium – beer, chocolate, waffles and fries. They lay claim to all those, either being the inventor or at least the connoisseur of it. And then the grand place and the pissing boy. How else can a place be eh?

***

Turns out there can be much more to a place. I took my time wandering around today and leave it to serendipity. I chance upon a beautiful cathedral, which turn out to be notre dame again (because notre dame in Paris was my favourite) and I sat through a Sunday mass. Even though I didn’t understand a word of it (I think it was conducted in French), the atmosphere and the environment made up most of it. It’s was solemnly beautiful.

After that I continue to wander on and came upon a little park which I get to see a superbly excites Siberian husky jumping into the fountain despite that it was freezing cold! Then on the way back I chance upon musee of fine arts and end up spending few hours there.

Ah turns out my art taste is a little strange. I like arts that are chaotic and in cross between the real and fantasy. In contrary I also like arts that are simple and bare and left spaces for the imagination to fill up. And here is where I also find out (my first encounter of it’s kind) is that I like surreal art. It’s almost like the earlier mentioned cross of life and fantasy, surreal is a cross of reality and dreams.

All in all, Brussels may not be love at first sight for me, but I have grown fond of it in a way. Indeed like everything in life, it takes time to understand and appreciate something or someone. So don’t always live life in a rush, sometimes we got to go slow to go deeper, which will make our light and fleeting life somewhat heavier and definitely much more meaningful.

Night Scene @ Brussels, Belgium

Old meets New @ Amsterdam, Netherlands

Amsterdam, oh, Amsterdam. Mention the name and all people could think of is all the vices – sex, drugs and alcohol.

Indeed it was true to some degree, but what was most memorable in my first time there was in quite the contrary. It was Anne Frank’s house. Anne was a Jew during the Nazi time and hid in that house with her family. While in hiding, she wrote in her diary, collecting thoughts and many insight to what was happening and how Jew feels, a teenage one in hiding that is. I can feel for her because I am a writer myself, and finally when I learnt that their location was compromised and she finally died in the concentration camp (her dad was the only survivor), I almost teared. Anne Frank’s house aim to teach about discrimination, and yes it is still very rampant in the world right now sadly.

But yes, the vices. You would not be happy if I didn’t mention that part of my experience don’t you? Well I traverse the red light district, letting you guess it, the red lights guiding me. In between small street red lights glow and people throng through it, most in hope to glimpse the pretty ladies dancing in full display (mostly on bra and panties that glow under the red ultraviolet light), while some hope to get lucky behind drawn curtains. I actually walked pass a man trying to haggle with a lady using sign language through the window. What bothers is the lady was genuinely aghast at the price he is offering while he kept insisting with a lustful face. How can you put a price on a lady? I guess we’ll have to ask a man for that. Hah.

Red Lights District @ Amsterdam, Netherlands

Also the drugs, yes the drugs. Knowing me I would certainly want to try it for curiosity sake, but no way am I trying it myself alone in Amsterdam. So I randomly bought a tub of cannabis cookies, tried one back at the hotel, end up too sleepy to wait for the effect to kick in (if there would be any) and end up just having a sound sleep (not sure from exhaustion or the drugs). Later on I learn from a friend who tried that these cookies/cakes are not strong enough, I should have went for the magic mushroom. Ah, maybe next time, and there will be more tales for another day.

Amsterdam, a place where the old (architecture wise) and the new (people and activities wise) meet is definitely a good mix of everything I must say. As for now, as I have only cover like a third of it, I will definitely be back, for Van Gogh museum and the magic mushroom, not necessarily in that order.

Cycle from Rotterdam to Kinderdijk @ Netherlands

As my friend said, I’ve lived the ultimate Dutch life. I cycled for 5 hours yesterday, covering from Rotterdam central station to Kinderdijk and back, including taking bike up a ferry across at the end. Jup (yes for Dutch), if that’s the ultimate Dutch life, I have enjoyed it indeed.

Cycling all the way I was never lonely, there were many people cycling from everywhere to everywhere, we smile and we say hi occasionally, though I notice I’m the only weird Chinese, or even tourists, doing it. The bike routes are well linked, and if you ever want to cycle around cities and villages, Netherlands is definitely the place to do it.

While I keep riding and riding, occasionally stopped to see the map and to take pictures, the reality hit me that it is actually quite far. Then there was only one single thought in my mind halfway through, “How am I getting back??” Well yes I could cycle back but I do dread it, where I even considered to hitchhike. Buy anyway, after 5hrs of cycling, looking back it had indeed been something. I rode through city, then passed the huge river, hike across the giant bridge (it feels like giant when you’re on a bike), then through a factory area, pass a little park, then through villages to villages, one which reminded me of my godsis’s village back at UK, while another like a row of cottages overlooking the prairie and finally reaching the river crossing with ferry. Oh boy, I rejoice when I saw it. Kinderdijk itself wasn’t much except for many windmills that are not working and lots of winds of course to add on to my cold misery.

My friend asked me at the end of the day, through time and space differences via whatsapp (we live in amazing times indeed), what was most memorable for me that day. I thought for a bit and one thing that came first to my mind was the crazy coldness. I was chilled to the bones while cycling, the wind was strong and adding on with my cycling through it, it was indeed like slicing through ice. But all I can do is curse the wind, wish for the sun, curse myself for not dressing adequately and keep asking “Why am I doing this again?” Oh I love to ask myself that question, a lot. Cause whenever looking back after it’s all been cursed and done, you’ll see why and it would all be worth it.

My bike and the windmills @ Kinderdijk, Netherlands

Mind you the windmills were alright, lots of them, non working, line up along the rivers and fields, and of course the wind, it’s times 10 for the wind there, after all that is a location for windmills right. As I told a friend just now, man made things die (like the windmills) but nature never dies (like the wind kept on blowing). But in the end, what makes the whole trip worth it was the journey of getting there, then exploring it and coming back, all on two wheels.

As I always say, “It’s the journey that counts”

I’m standing here under the little rain and think wow, I am in a foreign land alone (right now at least), feeling the place engulfing me. Tram no 9 is nowhere to be seen, most people huddled at the stop while the rest of us just bath in the rain, but we all wondered the same thing “where is the tram?”. On the opposite lane, two tram no 9 has passed us by, but our side’s is still nowhere to be seen. We are all in this together. We all just want to get to somewhere. Few of us had step out one by one to stare down the tracks towards the horizon hoping for a glimpse of the tram.

Then the tram came. We all shuffled in gladly. Out of the rain, finally on our way.

I stared out the window, while clinging to the pole, balancing on heels and a heavy bag. I see cyclists, many of them, and wish I have the same independence as them.

A tall lady just got in from a stop, she’s sharing the same pole as me who is at least one whole head taller than me, and I’m on heels remember? Well at least we are both staring at the phone (yes I’m writing on mine right his moment), but there’s were our similarities end.

Announcement for central station. Almost everyone got ready to go down, including my tall companion. I have two more stops to the hotel. I stared out, the rain has stopped, I smile.

Finally it is my stop. I got down from tram no. 9 and slowly make my way back to the hotel. I listen to my own steps pounding the gravel while consuming the lights and sights around me, once again letting the place engulf me.