Belgian days

Friday I took my car for a technical control (EN=MOT, NL=APK). The system here in Belgium is completely different to those in the NL or UK. It’s state run rather than sub-contracted to licensed garages. As my sociologist friends would say ‘it’s a different form of governance’. But it’s very efficient (which is something that can’t often be said about state run enterprises). I was in and out in twenty minutes (though unfortunately with a red card – which means ‘fix it and come back within 14 days’ – rather than a green one). I was hugely glad that I made an appointment rather than just turn up. The queue for the first come first served service was about fifty cars long – I could have been stuck there for an hour or more.

That’s almost the end of my getting a car registered in Belgium saga. I have refrained from boring readers with it. It was by far the most complicated administrative task associated with moving country (which I instinctively knew and which is probably why I prevaricated about it for so long). In his (last but one novel) Houllebecq wrote ‘after a certain age life becomes administrative more than anything else.’ As Smokey Robinson and the Miracles sang ‘ I second that emotion’. Suffice to say it was a four month paper chase from the time I first got a ticket from customs allowing me to import it (which cost me 1 Euro, the cheapest part of the exercise by far) to actually getting those (by-now coveted) red and white Belgian plates. Now all I need to do is find a mechanic (not easy actually as I don’t have any friends in Brussels who own a car) and get into the tax system.

Later the day Henk ‘the goose’ turned up. I say Henk the goose because the last time he was here was exactly one year ago. I only know that because his visit coincided with the Brussels organic fair, which was also on this weekend. It was good to catch up – although he looked pretty tired after doing his ‘northern migration’– and perhaps for the last time. We work in the same field, know many of the same people and he generously and faultlessly hosted me for a few weeks (twice) when I first moved to the Netherlands. And I still can’t believe that was eleven years ago.

Tour and taxis

I live right next to one of the most imposing building complexes in Brussels

Its a former railway/canal transit hub, built in what Brits would call the Victorian era. It shows the same unshakeable belief in the permanence of the project at hand that can be seen in many of Britain's railway stations, town halls and other civil engineering projects of the day. Indeed there is almost a sense of religious calling in some of the architectural details. These arches, at one of the entrances, seem to be directly influenced by the kind of architecture found in abbeys and other medieval buildings.

The freight terminal has now had its day - but Belgium values its patrimony- and the buildings were kept. Several are in a state of disrepair. One is now home to the Brussels Circus School. Others have been beautifully restored.

The vision of the forefathers has been turned into chic offices and a shopping centre. I am told that the office spaces are full of prestige companies (law firms, designers etc)- but the shopping centre hasn't quite taken off - even on Saturday afternoon there's something missing-

People???