Pissed off

17th August 2012 (Brussels, Belgium)

I wanted to take an express train to Paris, just one hour from Lille. The TGV, in association with Eurail, had other ideas. Apparently you need to book 24 hours in advance on a Eurail pass and you can't do it at the station, you have to call the Eurail line. I called for the 18th but was told I could only pick up the reservation from Paris Nord or Germany, or they could send it to me by post, which could take "one or two weeks".

I can't figure out what's more stupid:

• Having to book 24 hours in advance, whether or not the train is full.
• Having to book via telephone when one's hotel is 50 metres from a train station.
• Needing a physical manifestation of this reservation that mysteriously can't be emailed, faxed or sent by carrier pigeon.
• Needing to use a postal service that could take "one or two weeks" when you bloody well operate a network of fast trains.

Paris' loss was Belgium's gain, however. As I sat brooding in my room it occurred to me that Boff had been to Brussels and I had not, plus they had some kind of big deal flower thing that I would see but he would not. I hopped on a train. It was supposed to take two hours. There was some delay and it took three...

It also happened to be one of the hottest days of the summer, something in the vicinity of 35C. By the time I arrived at Bruxelles-Midi I'd run out of water and had to buy some from Carrefour.

On the train I'd pored over the map Boff had given me, so confidently headed north towards the Grand-Place (you need to say that in a French accent). Unsure at a turning, I stopped only to discover that I'd lost the map—probably in Carrefour where I'd been gratefully rehydrated. Nevertheless, I blundered in the right direction and managed to find encouraging signposts that took me to a street of Asian restaurants (Thai, Vietnamese, Chinese) at the end of which was a cafe that served me rabbit and chips with a big cold beer, probably the most delicious meal of the trip.

Then it was just a short way to a giant square surrounded by grand Belgian buildings filled with flowers. The balconies were packed so I avoided them and managed to find myself at a Dali exhibition.

It was around this time I began to feel ill, not quite nauseated, not quite headachey but really very tired all of a sudden. I'm not sure if it was the heat, the beer, the rabbit or all three. I parked myself in front of an air conditioner in the exhibition and napped for 15 minutes and then found a room with sofas for watching a Dali doco, told the attendant I had a headache and napped for another 30 minutes. The exhibition was okay but not as good as Berlin: it had a lot of Dali's commercial work including ads he did for a hosiery company, magazine articles, and some first editions of his books.

Groggily I stepped outside and found myself wandering toward the Manneken Pis. Photo of the day is a waffle shop's tribute to Brussels' favourite son with some tourists beside him for scale. Also managed to catch a large jar of Nutella in the frame—yay Nutella!

So Frenchy, so frilled

16th August 2012 (Calais, France)

Boff had a day off from the tournament, which is to say that it was the day for the semi-finals and finals and he didn't make it, so we went on an excursion to the seaside. Calais is best known for being where the lace industry really took off and for not being Normandy.

As the only building higher than four stories, the town hall dominates the cityscape with its substantial belfry (apparently it's pronounced 'bel-free', not 'bell-fry'). Out the front is Rodin's famous scuplture, The Burghers of Calais. You can take a lift up to the top of the belfry but for some reason it was closed until the afternoon.

We instead spent the morning at the lace museum. It was really Boff's day and he wanted to go because the jacquard cards they use to make lace in a machine is akin to a very early computer program. I thought it'd be boring. Actually, it turned out to be the best thing about Calais. Who knew lace had a history that could weave together design, technology and business so effortlessly? We also saw a demo of a jacquard loom for which I had to translate the Q&A between Boff and the dude but I think I did okay. I like the English word 'lace' better than I like the French word 'dentelle'. I think 'lace' represents it better.

Photo of the day is a floral peacock on Calais' major roundabout. You can only see it like this from the belfry, which we visited after lunch. The belfry guide said it represents the intricacy of the lace for which Calais is renowned.

Boff went and had a look at a bunker museum while I sat in the park and watched people play petanque, then we took a bus to the beach. Alas, it was too hazy to see England, but I ate a violet ice cream and all was well. (No, the ice cream was not as big as my head.)

Mess and noise

15th August 2012 (Lille, France)

Lille has a cute little zoo near the Citadelle with free entry. Considering this, I was quite impressed with the kinds of animals they had, including two white rhinos and a kinkajou, the first time I've seen these, quite a collection of American animals like tapirs, capybara (with babies), mara and macaws, and semi-exotics like red pandas and a fishing cat. I witnessed a small capuchin monkey teasing a baby pelican.

I'd budgeted the morning for the zoo but was struggling after just over one hour so went to the Palais des Beaux Arts. Upstairs they have European paintings from the 16th-20th century (and take particular pride in their Rubens—is the plural of Rubens 'Rubenses'?) but I found a lot of the paintings of religious saints gazing in agony during martyrdom boring compared to the temporary exhibition on Babel.

Photo of the day is a Tower of Babel made with books. No particular books, just lots of them. There were a lot of photo collages done by Chinese artists with tower-like structure showing the end of civilisation which were also striking, plus the original Bruegel, on loan from somewhere or other. I found the sculpture section interesting too.

I emerged from the museum a few hours later only to find that it had been a public holiday the whole time and a lot of the cafes and restaurants were closed. I ended up having a supermarket lunch by the fountain before going to meet Boff, who had won his afternoon game.

He wanted to see the zoo so we ended up walking there despite the fact that he thought I should be conserving energy to fight my lurgy (well, we had no choice as buses and taxis were scarce) and then ate dinner at a restaurant that used to be a porn cinema. It was one of very few open.

We decided to catch the metro back to the hotel and had these horrible children flock around us trying to steal our money without taking it from us. I put money in the ticket machine and a girl pressed the 'cancel' button and a boy shoved his hand in the return slot to grab it. Another girl stood nearby as a lookout, I'm guessing also to provide cover from CCTV. Luckily we were cluey enough to figure out what was happening so Boff covered the buttons so the girl couldn't press them and I guarded the return slot shoving the boy's hands out of the way shouting "ne touchez pas" (don't touch). Oh the irony: I didn't have enough French to swear at them.

Chilled Lille

14th August 2012 (Lille, France)

Pretty much spent the whole day in bed exhausted by whatever illness I caught in Poland. I'd visited a pharmacy the day before and with what French I had managed to convey to the pharmacist that I had had a sore throat and now I had a cough. She sold me cough medicine. I can't read medicine bottles at the best of times so when it's in French it's even more difficult, but I managed to figure out the dosage.

At 5 o'clock I went to meet Boff at the Grand Palais following his afternoon game, which he'd won. We walked into town and then around the Citadelle, which is a five-point fortress designed by a famous fortress designer (is there a proper word for that? Defence architect, or something?), Vauban. Vauban's work can be seen all around the northern borders of France and some towns in Belgium and The Netherlands.

The Citadelle, I'd found out the day before, is only open on Sunday to a limited number of people on a tour conducted by the tourism office. One needs to sign up by the Thursday prior: I tried but the Sunday tour was full and we'd be in Amsterdam the following week.

We then had galettes (pancakes) and crepes at a creperie downtown in rue des debris St Etienne. Yes, two types of pancakes for dinner.

Photo of the day is of a guy who stands near the central fountain making large bubbles for donations. He only gets one out of 10 going and most of the time those are popped by voracious kids but I managed to catch this photo.