Like going to Belgium.
Belgium is nestled right between France, Germany and that other place with all the hookers, dank and crusty hippies sitting in coffee shops . Unfortunately to get there you have to get up stupidly early in the morning to get on a train.
One of the other bonuses of going abroad is being able to giggle like a spaz in a sweetshop at words that are completely innocuous to 99% of the people around. A glowing example of this can be found in the Dutch word for cream. Cream is added to quite a lot of things in Belgium which gave me ample opportunity to snigger at "Slagroom" on every menu we strolled past.
Just to be sure I took a picture from almost every angle and it doesn't stop being awesome.
After an obscenely early morning, its almost essential that you buy a coffee at the earliest opportunity and then spend the next few hours wondering what you would be doing "if you were at work" before moaning about how tired you are.
All this is quickly forgotten when you get to Belgium as, like most European cities with remarkably more liberal views on pretty much everything, there are loads of distractions. Like filthy streetwalking prostitutes...
This might look like any ordinary Belgium Street, and in many respects you would be right to assume that, however if you look particularly closely at the wall right in the centre of the shot you can see a hooker. More specifically her leg. Thats a hooker leg. I would have got more of her but I couldnt get the camera out in time and Mrs Dickfingers told me it was bad form to chase after her because although she was wearing Hooker Boots and looked like she'd been rogered more times than a policeman's radio, there might be a chance that she wasn't a hooker and was just really fond of waiting on street corners. But she definitely was a hooker. I'm almost certain.
They also have better unhealthy snacks. Like chocolatey waffles.
Unfortunately they make you feel a bit grim after a couple so I tried my best to limit myself to one a day...
One of the other bonuses of going abroad is being able to giggle like a spaz in a sweetshop at words that are completely innocuous to 99% of the people around. A glowing example of this can be found in the Dutch word for cream. Cream is added to quite a lot of things in Belgium which gave me ample opportunity to snigger at "Slagroom" on every menu we strolled past.
I would like to pretend that Slagroom was the only thing that amused me but I would be lying. I also found a skateshop with one of the best names of anything Dutch or otherwise:
and got a bit pissed off that my GP isn't called Patrick Sweetlove...
However it would be a disservice to Antwerp if I were to flippantly dismiss it as nothing more than the home of Patrick Sweetlove and Harry Beaver. It is also full of old shit, some of which you can climb on.
This is a statue of some naked guy that fucked up a giant who was charging people to cross a river. Apparently if you didn't pay the Giant he would cut your hands off. This nudist lad turned up and decided that he wasn't going to take any shit from the lanky bastard so lopped the Giants hand off instead. Then he threw it in the river. Im not really sure what the Giant expected to happen. Im not really sure why the Giant didn't step on him. Or kick him in the balls. He was a giant after all. If I was a giant I wouldn't take any shit from normal people, naked or otherwise. I guess it would be like answering the door and seeing a midget on the otherside standing there in the nip. As if that wouldn't freak you out enough, imagine if he jumps up and lops your hand off... You'd be livid wouldn't you? Exactly. I sometimes think we ran out of Giants before we ran out of really good stories involving Giants...
Incredibly, the handless Giant isn't by any means the best Giant statue in Antwerp. Far from it. Theres this one too.
Now, I'm no Giant expert, far from it, but I would say that in my humble opinion, this appears to be a Giant with two small people staring at his pants.
Just to be sure I took a picture from almost every angle and it doesn't stop being awesome.
It just keeps getting better...
This is a picture of me at the opera. Admittedly the tickets were free and I didn't understand a bloody word of it as they were singing in Russian with Dutch subtitles and my understanding of either of the languages stumbles somewhere after "hello" and "can I have a beer please" but it was free so I needed it and it was a thoroughly cultured and entertaining evening to befit my time in such a cultured and entertaining city.
The following day we went to Ruebenshaus or Ruebens House as its known in English. Ruebens painted fat lasses with their thri'pennies out. He loved the tubbies. Unfortunately the stroppy little woman in the house said I wasn't allowed to take photos inside the house just as I was about to take a picture of a fat lass with her thri'pennies out and I didn't want to piss her off as she was little and I was worried she might mistake me for a giant and cut my hand off.
Belgium is famous for beer so I thought it would be culturally insensitive of me not to drink plenty of it. The problem with that otherwise flawless plan is that after about 3 you forget whats going on as they're basically fortified wines made by sadistic Belgium monks so any more than 4 and the world pretty much comes to an end and you stand quite a good chance of letting a little bit of wee and sick out. Maybe even at the same time.
Its quite pretty though, despite the freakish ginger children they try to bury in chocolate.
They also eat horses out there but Mrs Dickfingers wasn't overly keen on the idea of me wasting money scurrying around trying to find somewhere that I could buy and eat Shergar so we settled on a compromise of tracking it down and eating it in France later. Either way, the thin legged delicious hooved bastards have got it coming... mark my words.
In other news. SPT is a cock end for swearing at this righteous BDF mini.
and contrary to popular belief, White Dog Shit is no longer a thing of the past and I found some whilst out for a walk. I would like to point out that I wasn't out on a walk looking for white dog shit, but it was definitely a lovely surprise when I found it.
My totally incredible and definitely rad side project is nearing completion so expect an update about that soon by which time I could be the owner of a sleeping bag suit and potentially a new job. If the former happens, expect pictures, if the latter happens expect 3 years of built up frustration and bitchy comments to come flooding out like piss from a kidney... or something that comes out of something else quickly. Graham Norton and a cupboard? Spunk and Jordan? You get the idea...
Until next time...x