Tuesday, November 27, 2007

France is Not Belgium


Quelle Surprise!

Belgium hasn't got a government but the trains run on time, and when the people march it's because they really like each other.

Room with a few.

Route du Blocry 33/334,
B-1348 Louvain-la-Neuve,

That's where I live.
Before signing the contract scrutinised the room (with an intense Scroot).

It's got 2 chairs, 1 bed, 1 wardrobe, 2 powerpoints, 1 sink, 1 velux window, and a dodgy light which I had to fix.

There's digital TV in the lounge and there's wireless broadband, I think I'm goin to like it here.

A Capital Weekend

On Friday I went to Brussels to meet up with me mate dangerous Dave.

In many ways the weekend was not unlike a meeting of Europeans
and native Americans in the Age of Exploration:

I showed him the sights, he wasn't impressed.
He brought me trinkets, (My Gameboy, and King Crisps), I was impressed.
I caught some sort of GI illness and was toilet-ridden for 24 hours,
He also caught a GI illness and is still recovering.
Damned American-word-for-underground-train-Sandwiches.

We went to the Ocead Swimming Complex and picked up several injuries due to the slides not being very good squishee. Our tube capsized and my head went very fast towards the side of the slide, which was fine, until it hit the side of the slide, ouch.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

"No Homelike Place"

I'm moving out tomorrow.

Not exactly sure where to but I'm moving out. Hostel's full so I gotta go.

Working thru a list of 'avalable' places, excluding the ones that are
too expensive,
for females only,
to far away,
need 12 month contract,
not available right away,
not already taken
Opus Dei (?).

Receiving a littany of emails/SMS starting with "malheureusement" or "desolé" is not exactly nice.

I don't anticipate sleeping out anytime soon, I got some contingency plans, but all in all it ain't a nice feeling.

Say la v.

Sorry there's no joke in this one, but it's not a good time for me, and comedy is all about


Friday, November 9, 2007

I'm writing for the screen, but I'm not on strike...

It's been a while since my last post, so let me first apologise for giving you false hope that I'd abandoned posting. The blog has received upwards of 300 hits this week, which means that catapults are making a comeback.

Right now I'm watching Bohs vs Cork on RTE.ie for the last European place.

As previously mentioned I was under the impression that I would be moving in to a kot (Belgisch for student accommodation) on the first of November. Funny story. When I visited the main accom office on my first week here i was told that said kot would be available on the 1st of November, and I scheduled a visit to check it out. An hour later I was at the office for the quarter where the kot was and I was shown to the room. It was grand so I returned to the Office and checked that I should return on the 1st.

The 1st was a public holiday so I went up to the accom office with a view to signing a contract and I was told that it was given to someone else. Apparently I had to confirm that I would take the kot. No one told me that. Imagine the utter desolation. I'd been content for the previous 2 weeks that I'd found a place to live and I'd given out the address, only to be told that someone else had it. Bad times.

Anyway the office did give me a list of 30 or so private places available to rent. Some of the places are said to be "under the prelature of Opus Dei" rent is 200 per month + flagellation fee. The response to most of my initial emails began with either "malheureusement" or "desolé" or "Dear Mister H., yours is a common problem, the cream you are taking should help..." but one said that the place was still available, and that I could visit at 7pm. At 7.10 I sent the owner a text confirming that I'd visited and confirming my interest. The reply told me that it too had been given to someone else. I'm in the hostel for at least the next week but I know that there won't be room there in a few weeks so the clock is ticking. Really bad times. If all else fails, never mind I still have something useful up my slieve: My arm.

I'm looking for ways to make some cash here - there's only so much you can buy with a genuine photocopy of a picture of a ten bob note. Last week I put my shirt on a greyhound. It looked so well that all the other greyhounds wanted one. I made a fortune.

Tomorrow there's an Erasmus dinner, basically everyone makes their national dish. I've couldn't find any "how to" books on Waterford Crystal so I'm making coddle. Finding it hard to find proper sausages, spuds, rashers and onions here, so I hope they like Bratwurst, turnip, salmon and scallion stew, I know I will. Maybe I'll add some petit-pois. All that I'm saying is give peas a chance.