Gent

Into Gent, wide canals and a rowing course accompany our drive into the campsite It’s location amidst a large recreational lakeside sporting precinct (The Blaameersen) make up for the pervasive smell of garbage, dog poo and summer holiday crowds.

With post-prandial slowing and momentary,‘not another European city’ fatigue, I empathize with Kel’s initial reluctance to take the 4 km fietspad to town.  But the evenings are long and the sun is shining brilliantly so the photos will be magic and we won’t get wet or have to take raincoats etc.  Based on the wealthy textile trade and lace, this city was larger than London in it’s day, second in size only to Paris. 

Once again, we pull into a spectacular old centre of castles, belfries, narrow cobbled streets, almost frilly decorated skylines and lace shops. 

view from St Michel's bridge

Gent castle

Canal-side is funked up by groups of students singing,dancing and drinking providing loads of drunken entertainment. 

With sore Belgian Bottoms (Kel’s cry for bike bashing around on rough cobbles), thickening hoards of diners and too close for comfort trams, we head home leaving loads to explore another day.

27/6

Easy day close to home. Grey skies but warm. Loads of school;clothes washing and e-mail business.

After a salad sandwich, we wandered around the impressive Blaameersen recreational area starting at the lakeside beach where the swimming was quite brisk,

a brass monkey

and then spending the rest of the day walking/skating and scootering it’s periphery stopping at every playground, rope park and scenic spot.

crazy monkey

dice roll:

Wil (best part) realizing the pleasure of being at one in motion with my bike.

Kel (best taste) the strawberry and white chocolate magnum.  It was truly magic!

Jeff (best man-made thing) the lakeside playgrounds of the Blaameersen

Jen (best natural thing) the BBQ salmon fillet crusted with pesto and cashes for dinner

28/6

Strange higgledy-piggledy night for Big J waking to an alarm at 0200 to phone banks at home & sort some financial stuff.  No luck but messages and e-mails left.  

After a run (-Jeff) around the neighbouring lake & brekkie, we excitedly head for town to meet with our Belgians via The English Secondhand Bookshop, where we pick up the rest of the Harry Potter series for Kel.   It’s sweltering hot & humid and Europe is not well outfitted for this (no fans, only small windows, lots of people in small places).  Much easier than the rain & wind however!

On top of the most beautiful bridge in old Gent town stands a petit blonde fairy in a short, sweet dress ballooning softly in the wind to reveal her tulle petticoat and a buoyant tanned handsome prince, pronking playfully around her - our Belgians!

We lock up the fiets and sneak up on them, Get Smart style, before planting kisses and hugs.  

Anais and Eliah

So good to see them - they only got home after 12 months backpacking 3 days ago and are feeling squeaky in their pressed attractive clothing.  They take us proudly around their pretty student city showing us churches, squares, the stadhuis where Anais’ mums married, ’graffiti street’, 

favourite shops and telling stories of where they grew up and where they play.  We talk about their travels and what makes them Belgian as opposed to Dutch, German or French as we walk.  

pointing to London, good wool source

St Bavos's cathedral

So, in summary, compared to the Dutchies, they’re shorter & wider; they eat more potatoes & meat compared with fish, bread & milk; they have an indifference to their King Albert II and don’t even celebrate his birthday; their Dutch is smoother & softer on the ears ;their fietspads aren’t as smooth or plentiful nor their bikes as fancy and they focus more on fine food than the environment.  Having been the battleground of Europe through the centuries, with everyone wanting a piece of their puzzle, it’s any wonder they exist at all.It seems it’s more what they’re not than agitating patriotically about what they are. They are less fussed about being bourgeoise than the French and they are NOT German but for heir monastic roots. An understated, educated nation with a high standard of living derived from textiles, then exploits in the Congo and then industrialization & mining.

Anais has chosen a cheap tasty eat for lunch after which the greatest two treats follow - being invited to her house to meet her 2 mums and then to Eliah’s in Klein Begijnhof, a UNESCO listed neighbourhood founded in 1235.

Only minutes from the city’s heart, we share a ‘goat’s leg’ Belgian biscuit (coffee, chocolate & nut meringue biscuit with an obvious shape!) with Anais’s gorgeous “Belly” (biological) mum, Hilda and her warm & theatrical ‘other’ mum Claire. Claire tells us intriguing bits about their city through the eyes of a social worker who primarily deals with political refugees from Turkey, Eastern Europe and Morocco.

Back on the fiets, following our teenage Belgian guides we enter the quiet Begijnhof through an old stone gate before arriving at the house of Eliah. His gorgeous younger sister and 2 tortoises entertain us but in my peripheral vision, Wil’s quiet restlessness gives the cue that it’s time to visit the much awaited chocolate house that Eliah told us about in Switzerland.  Kel whizzes through the busy going-home traffic effortlessly now, putting out her wee finger to turn, and just ‘gunning it’ after our hosts. 

“Quetzal” - chocolate bar.  You can smell it.  Outrageous menu of chocolate fondue, milkshakes, ice-creams, coffees, brownies……we fill the table with sticky brown stuff and lick all receptacles in conclusion.  Kel feels sick.  Wil’s not satiated.

Saying “Goodbye” sucks, “see you later” is a little easier - I love them so much. Can’t believe such fine young people are not yet 20!  I would really fancy hosting them in our land and having the privilege to see their lives mature.  I feel buoyed by their/our traveling spirits and tell myself we will hug again.

Jeff reckons it’s good to leave bits undone..for next time.  Well there’s the jazz festival next week (Belgian Aldophe Sax invented the saxophone), the infamous July Gent 10 day festival and the January light festival…..and Eliah & Anais.

29/6

Hot night made tolerable by having all the Eddie windows open, until the coolness came over about 2am, slept till 0815, Jen did a triple lake run, Jeff cycled for 45min, then home to the woken happy kids - what a pleasure to be greeted by Kel so full of morning love and cheer!

With the day looking fine we decide to stay in Gent rather than move on to Brussels - gives us an opportunity to ride the town 1 last time, see the Friday markets, have another crack at the BMX track and hopefully SLIDE at the lake.

School done well with Wil powering his way into the world of Algebra, then away on bikes into town to the markets which are mostly bric a brac but picked up some nice cheese, nutty breadrolls and these aparagus -wrapped- in- ham -with- egg- dressing things to fill the rolls.  Also found the “Gent Nose,” these really groovy cone shaped candies, the black ones taste just like a giant black jelly bean (and we are black jelly bean people) and purple ones are a cherry/aniseed flavour - MORE-ISH!!

Gent Nose

Find some nice shoes to replace Kel’s $5 fake Converse (which stayed in the shop’s bin, probably not a fitting burial given their service history), 

then headed out of the market square, past another church (there must be 5 or 6 in a 1 sq km space!), down to a canal and along to the confluence of the river   and   .  Then we just pedaled casually looking for a lunch spot in a park, along the narrow road/buildings between 2 parallel canals, into a park that wasn’t quite right, then around along the wrong fietspad through an industrial area and a new condo construction site, seeming to be getting further and further from the spires, TomThumb iPhone no help (poor signal, what’s new?!)  Finally found a “Centrum” sign and headed back to the now looming larger spires and Albert Koning Park where under the impressive ex-King and his more impressive steed, 

among the teenage coolkids smoking, dancing/writhing and kissing, the skate punks pulling some awesome aerial maneuvers, the soccer dad thrilling his 5-7 yr olds with his amazing skills (must be a pro, or was), we enjoy mum’s delectable lunch creation followed by 2 noses each.  

The kids spend some energy in the PG, then we’re back on the Fiets and into town, dodging cars and pedestrians and crisscrossing tram-tracks.  Stop in at the English Bookstore to complete the Harry Potter series and then homeward.

Stop at the BMX track where Wil thrills himself and pinks his cheeks - he’s very keen on more of this back in Oz.  Back to Ed, ½ hour of poetry work, then down to the lake for a Slide, which although not being pumped with water is still fun for Wil.