A trip to Brussels is more about the highlights: suddenly finding great stuff, little sparkles of joy, amongst the mire of total and utter crude. The whole city is full of truly grumpy people, far too many very scary and aggressive homeless people (I’d be hostile if I was homeless as well by the way), and generally a feeling that everyone, given the chance, would jump on the Eurostar, and like me experience the palpable sense of pleasure that grows proportionally in relation to the distance that you are sped away.
Now first of all, I must say that I feel quiet lucky this trip – I wasn’t robbed. A trip a few years back saw my laptop being nicked while waiting in a taxi queue. Not so for a colleague on this visit, who was accosted by some ‘drunks’ on his way back from a restaurant, only to find that they were in fact pickpockets who relieved him of his wallet. Poor Stuart.
On this trip there were some good bits; meeting up with two old work colleagues and going for a great dinner, as well as eating in two other fantastic restaurants with my super clients. One of these restaurants had a crazy menu of weird food combinations that were ace – amongst the choices were combinations of starter and main course that were billed to be ‘rejuvenating’, ‘detoxifying’ and ‘energising’. There was also a ‘pregnancy’ menu which I avoided.
But this is the thing about Brussels – the food is really good, excellent and I always enjoy it (and I am not a foodie), but pretty much everything else is well, rubbish, disappointing, irritating, or downright anger-inducing.
Other than being robbed which is never a good experience, elements that drove the Crumpometer into the red this trip were
- A range of smelly taxi drivers: you name the exudates and I seemed to get into a taxi honking of it – totally disgusting
- A range of taxi drivers who needed anger management therapy. I even had to shout at one to inform him of my displeasure as he steered me through a number of near death experiences
- The RUDEST and LAVIEST congress centre-employed staff EVER...
...They just did not want to be there. A piece of chewing gum on the sole of their shoes would have been more welcome in their lives. The exception was a lovely lady called Alyson who worked with my team on site who was ace but we hired here from a separate agency. An example of the staffing drudge happened for about the 50th time this week as I approached an information desk this morning. Lumpylo (I think that is what her name badge said) behind the desk had her back to me as I approached to ask her for some ‘information’. She was woofing her way through a croissant (or three), turned her head towards me (I still had the full view of her gargantuan butt) and talked to me firing crumbs out of her mouth while still skilfully maintaining a sneer from the corner of her mouth. She was totally unhelpful, did that shrug of the shoulders that so perfectly communicates: ‘I don’t give a bugger about you and I would in fact be delighted if you would move out of my sight, die and never darken my door ever again’. Aaarrrggghhhhhh
Another annoying, yet amusing, congress employed staff moment was with the audiovisual technician who fell asleep in full view of the audience of the meeting I was helping organise (he was literally slumped over the av equipment). Initially I panicked as I though he was dead but a sharp prod to the ribcage seemed to revive him!!!
Anyway must stop the grumbling now, Brussels was good in many ways. the congress was fun, clients were super, activities all went well, plus I am now back in Blighty having emerged from the Channel Tunnel and am on my way home to decorate the kitchen – oh bugger, maybe Brussels isn’t that bad and ugly after all…
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