A Bastille Day Report, Days Later

Here is your un-timely update.  I didn't see any parades, but the seated ladies on the Republique statue were festive in their blue and red beards.

I learned that Bastille Day parties center around the firehouses, and that cheap champagne is plentiful.  (What a holiday!)

We went to this party by the Point Ephemere (can't wait to see Wild Nothing there soon!!!), where there was a crap band (think HK girls doing covers at Bulldogs in TST) playing American Top 40 hits and dancing in synch, and firefighters were generously doling out bubbly for as cheap as I've ever seen it here (20 euros for a bottle!).

But I kept thinking how the night was an arsonist's dream, what with all of the pompiers partying down.  I mean, it you had ever wanted to set something ablaze in the city of lights, this was your night.

Here are some crap pics of the giant champagne/firehouse party:

And I spotted this on my walk to work on July 15.

It was a very good night indeed.

Another Move

Bye bye to our old place in Brussels...

We are officially moved out.  I miss our old place and the space it afforded us (almost too much space--imagine!), as well as the St. Gilles neighborhood and its authentic character.

Speaking of authentic character, here's some St. Gilles for you!  We noticed this on one of our last metro rides in Brussels.  Note the dark grease spots at head-level above the chairs.  This is what years of public heads on a white tile wall becomes.

Sick.



But on to Paris!

Our place here is big.  Giant really, for people of our (lowly) status!  64 m2!  Even the movers remarked on how big it is.  It was newly refurbished, so we don't have to deal with rotting cabinets or a crummy old potty.  But it sorta lacks character.  There are no wooden crossbeams or decorative moldings, but somehow that also seems to give it less of a creep factor (read:  ghost potential).  The other bummer is that the whole place (except for the bedroom) is tiled, which sorta makes it feel like you're living in a kitchen.  But it's nothing a nice area rug can't remedy.

Our place is just off the Republique metro/traffic circle/giant-lady-statue and a couple of blocks from the Canal St-Martin.  We are in love with our new neighborhood.  The Marais was beautiful and offered everything just outside our door.  But it came to feel touristy and too crowded on the weekends.  It felt less like my neighborhood and more like everyone else's.  Plus, it was all right there, shiny and bright and established.  The fun of where we live now is finding all of the good spots.  (More on that later.)  And it's definitely less touristy (though they do come for the canal), more real, and a smidge gritty.

But back to the apartment.  Here are some pics from the day we moved in:

See what I mean about the lack of character?  Oh well, it's clean and bright.

Taking an unfurnished apartment here usually means having to put in your own appliances.  I have already purchased a fridge and a washing machine.  An oven/stove is next on my list.  Until then, we eat out... not bad.

 The living room.

 Looking down the hallway with the bedroom on the right.

They used one of those cherry-picking machines to bring our stuff up to the 3eme etage (which is the 4th floor for those Stateside).  It's pretty nervewracking to see your belongings up on a lift like this, especially when they must go through the branches of a tree each time.  (Our place was full of leaves and branches afterward.)  But it all worked out and nothing but a cuckoo clock pendulum fell off, our gift to the neighbors downstairs via their balcony.

A lesson was learned, however:  Never go with the moving company who offers the cheapest bid.  So far, only one thing has turned up broken (a serving plate), but we've had a lot of "Are you KIDDING me?" moments while unpacking.  Like, glass perfume bottles being thrown together without being wrapped, while tubes of plastic chapstick were lovingly contained in paper.  WHAT?  They were a buncha dum-dums, for sure.

Though they did leave me with this incredibly labelled box...


Handbags, Parfum, Jewels


Jewels?!?  How did Zsa Zsa Gabor's boxes get mixed up with mine?  I never would have pegged her to take the lowest bidder!



One more thing.

Look who came out to say goodbye when I was leaving my old apartment.

Stuff on Walls #28

Make up your mind.

 Whoever looks, doesn't exist.

Or something like that...

Just some pencil sketching on the wall.

More pencil doodles on the wall.

 A pretty lady tethered to something bloody and severed... hmm.  Must be a story there.

 Is that a steel beam or are you just happy to see me?

Le Fou takes the mic.

"But which one is it?  I don't see your name!"

I can't quite make out the last word, but I like this little guy with love on his mind.

Rock n' roll gyno.

Servez-vous.

Servez-vous aussi?
Um, no thanks.

 Doesn't sound pretty.

 A one-stroke meow heart = perfect.

No, YOUR mom!

Assorted chats and a chien... because I have INTERNET!

FINALLY.... after a 15-day waiting period (which really was how the guys at Orange put us off... "um, yeah, it should take 15 days for your internet to start working [you dumb Americans]"... hmmm?) and a lengthy appointment with a technician today, during which B had to call me to "translate" and I had to pass the phone to my French coworker to do it properly and an additional 149 euros to pay to the technician on the spot (surprise!  You want internet, you pay!), our internet is finally up and running in our Paris apartment.

Do you hear me?  I HAVE INTERNET!!!!

It was over 6 months without, people.  6 MONTHS!  And so much has happened!

I am wading back in with some favorite photos from the past few weeks.  But much more is to follow!  I just want to squeal with excitement!  Here I come Skype and Facebook and emails with attachments and downloading movies and music and, oh, it's almost too much!

 Birthday card from Betsy.

 This guy called "Sardine Animal" has been putting up some real cuties lately.  More to follow.

 This...

 is...

 just...

 around the corner...

from my apartment.

So you know the location of my place was meant to be.

Rocky, my Sunday lunch buddy.

Me trying to tell someone I'm going to be late.
Tard!

Bye Bye, Brussels

Here I sit, sipping on a St Feuillien and missing Brussels already, though I'm still here.

But tonight when the 9:37 train to Paris pulls out, my time in Brussels will officially be over.

I remember when B got the job offer and we decided to move here, and I thought something to the effect of.... well, it's not Paris and it's not London and it's not Amsterdam, but it IS a centrally located city in Europe, so we'll make the best of it.

Then I got here and was able to spend an unemployed summer exploring the city and making myself at home, finding our haunts and deciding what neighborhood to live in, and well, by then Brussels had me under its spell.  It really is a great "starter" European city.  There are other languages spoken, so you definitely know you ain't in the US no more, but most people speak English, too, so you're not that far out of your element.  The food is good (it had more Michelin-starred restaurants per capita than any other city when we moved here) and the "hits" are approachable--frites, mussels, chocolate, waffles.  The architecture is incredible; there are so many deco gems and beautiful details, in even the most ordinary of buildings.  It is a walkable city, and B and I enjoyed some of our best times just wandering around like we're wont to do.  And the beer... oh, the beer!  I knew we had it good here (B and I especially, what with living so close to Moeder Lambic) but it really took moving to Paris and being confronted with the shit selection of beer in the groceries to make me appreciate the quality of beer at your fingertips here in Belgium.

And our apartment!  I know you saw the pictures way back when but it breaks my heart to leave our most lovely apartment here.  It was just perfect for us--and for having friends visit.  It was nearly 100 m2... that is GIANT as far as EU apartments go.  And we really fell in love with our neighborhood of St. Gilles.

But things change, jobs end and others present themselves, so here we are in flux again.

I just signed a lease on a great apartment in Paris, right near the Republique metro and 3 blocks from the Canal St. Martin.

Nice, right?

It's all new and big for Parisian standards at 64 m2 (I don't know in feet people, I just don't...), but if I had to grouse I'd tell you that it lacks old Parisian character.  But then, that also makes me feel that it will be sufficiently un-ghosty (you know I worry about this)... a big relief.

So this Friday, they move all of our things from Brussels to Paris.  And B will bring Chichi on the train on Friday.  (Please no poops on the train, please no poops on the train...)  I am really excited to have her there with me, to have someone to come home to.

Paris is great.  I mean, it's Paris!  But it's not without its challenges.  (I am super-excited about July because some of my favorite people on this planet will be coming to visit.  I can hardly sit still about it!)  Brussels was nice because we had a network of friends here, but we'd also established ourselves in our neighborhood, knowing the people at Bar du Matin, and Moeder and our Night Shop and pharmacie and all of that.  And though the people in Paris have been friendly and welcoming and helpful, I will still miss the rhythm and ease of Brussels.  I am glad I got to experience it for the past year, though I feel like there are many parts of Belgium I had yet to explore.  I'd like to think I will still get to Gent or the Ardennes but honestly, now I have France to explore and it's probably not likely.  Still, I think we made the most of our time in Belgium and I will always treasure it.  I know I'm a lucky duck for having had the opportunity.

So.... on to the next chapter!  Thanks for the memories, Brussels.