Il y avait mon grand-père

I’m back.

I waited a total of 20 minutes on the autobahn and learned many things. Apparently, the highway from Berlin west is called Warsaw Alle, which is way better than my attempt, Poland Express. Apparently, the Hungarians are just as great as Polish people.

I was so relaxed the attendant right across the border asked me how I kept up my moral after 2 hours in the dark and cold. I took the hint, and let myself be herded onto the train. The first song I hear in Belgium is “Bruxelles”. I promptly ordered a gauffre, and ate it relishing the experience,. watching the board of Liege train station slowly light up delay-red. I wish I was making all of this up. To all the doubters in Berlin: Belgium IS a country of stereotypes, I wasn’t joking.

Emmenez-moi au bout de la terre Emmenez-moi au pays des merveilles Il me semble que la misère Serait moins pénible au soleil