Don't Shoot the Messenger

4 - en Vino ... hangover

Bruges Belgium some of the things mentioned are bell ringing concerts and horse drawn carriage rides and chocolate connoisseurs (OK that made my list), .....

Claire's POV

Passport and airline ticket in hand I take a taxi to the airport without saying goodbye to anyone. Leaving college in the middle of the semester... It's the start of November now, almost a month since my world came crashing down. I don't want to face their questions, and no matter how I evaded them there would be many. The trip to administration to inform them that I was dropping out was difficult enough. I claimed a family emergency, and pretended I would return when I was able. I already dropped out of touch with people I knew from High school some time ago.  My Facebook account is closed, and I haven't posted anything there in at least a month anyway.

The flight is 7 and a half hours. I planned a night flight hoping to sleep most of it, but also packed some things to read and snacks. I will dig out my warm jacket before exiting the airport; I made sure it is easy to get to.

There are no crying babies on the flight. No chatty seatmate either. The airport is busy and I feel a bit lost. I will have to get used to this, I know. Passing through customs is a new experience. The 'hurry up and wait' is rather like the DMV or any government office, I suppose. I answer that I have nothing to declare. I am traveling for pleasure rather than business and my passport is stamped (at last). I am released to find my way, with a quick point in the right direction.

I had closed my old bank account. There is a local branch of an international bank where I opened a new account before I left NYC. I did research to find inexpensive accommodations and I don't have much money (or traveler's checks) on me to be stolen. I don't care if the hotel is not 'nice' the idea is not to hole up in a room anyway. I need to be out and about as soon as I am checked in. I enjoy the thought of wandering about and getting a little bit lost. It is the best way to find what you didn't know to look for.

I try to strike up a conversation with the driver, He speaks Dutch, French and German, plus a bit of English. I tell him I want to improve my French, and we limp along in that for a bit. I have to ask him to repeat some things in English though. The taxi costs a lot more than I expected; I'm glad the taxi takes plastic. I shrug and smile at the driver, thanking him as I get out. 

The hotel is neat and clean, but not much else can be said for the plain space I am about to leave. My bags are stowed and I make sure to top off the charge on my phone (it was off during the flight), but see that I have no bars. Later that day I learn that the phone system is different enough that I will need a new chip... I add a trip to a phone store to my 'must do' list. Google Map is going to be my friend and I don't want to risk being offline.

I walk for miles through the unfamiliar city. It feels good to get out and stroll around stopping anywhere that smells good when I get hungry. I am surprised the first time I try to find a public toilet and learn that there is a charge of .40 euro.

A cold misty rain falls as evening approaches; I take cover, debating on whether to grab another cab. I took refuge in a bar, and an upscale one at that. Should I stay a while? I look around; the place looks nice and the people are well dressed. The guys are wearing suits as if they stopped in after work at an office with a strict dress code. The rain may not blow over anytime soon. I remember that the drinking age is much lower than in the US.... I am surprised to learn it is only 16 for beer and wine, 18 for 'spirits' (hard liqueur I suppose). I will probably end up taking a cab back anyway...