I visited the flea market in Paris, drank beers in Brussels and then got all the way to London, in one day. Oh boy!
There I was, firmly sleeping in Samuel and Maud’s living room, when Maud woke me up for breakfast. I got a quick shower and after breakfast Sam and Maud gave me tour on the famous flea market of Saint Ouen. There are no real stands here, but just one real block of this suburb is the market. It’s like walking through a normal city street, but everythings is mostly put on sale on the streets and you can get inside for more.
It was strange to see the poor part of the market, with a lot of junk, and a rich part, where even gold and statues were sold. And in the “rich streets” you don’t see poor people; you won’t see rich people in the poor part.
This magazine interviewer Martin, from yesterday afternoon, tried to explain me about the big gap between the wealthy and the poor people in Paris. The rich can afford everything and go to restaurants every night, the poor can’t spend anything in this city, it is very expensive.
For example: one normal glass of beer was 30 French Francs, approximately 5 US-dollars! You need to make money to drink here.
When we got back to the apartment, I had to leave them very early already. I thanked them for the hospitality and they even provided me a little lunchbag with some candybars, some cokes and some French sandwiches.
I headed to the Gare Du Nord, the Northern train station of Paris, where I had to take the Thalys train to Brussels at 12.55.
Let me tell you what is a little bit annoying in Paris, especially in a transport hub like a train station: all signs are in French. I didn’t have a single clue if I was standing in the right line to pick up the ticket that was reserved under my name and then get to the right train line to get on board.
Luckily I made it to the right platform into the right train at 12.55 exactly. I found my seat and planted myself for a trip from Paris, back to Brussels in 2.5 hours.
I had not experienced something like this before, but this train was moving with a speed of almost 200 km/hr – really fast!
I arrived at the Brussels National Airport station around 3pm and checked in at the Virgin Express check-in-counter. In return of giving away my backpack I got a boarding pass to get on a 7pm plane tonight.
That’s when I decided to call my former-host of mine in Brussels, of who I remembered organised a hockey tournament this weekend. When I got Sophie on the phone she was very surprised. “You are back again? Great! Let me pick you up from the airport and you can spend time here at the tournament. No problem!”
Twenty minutes later I sat in her car and before I knew I was drinking beer at the Wild Orange hockey tournament, with 10 teams from England, Belgium and the Netherlands playing against each other, at this sports field just outside of Brussels.
It was very strange to explain those Dutch people I just arrived from Paris and I was on my way to London and decided to come over at their tournament. “You what?” They didn’t really get it, but for me it was a nice chance to try to hit this ball with a stick.
At 6pm Sophie brought me back to the airport. Now that was hospitality – again! I thanked her for the fun afternoon, got through customs and wandered a while along the tax free shops.
My free flight TV5831 by Virgin Express was offered to me by the Belgian tour operator Majer & Partners (a handling agent for a lot of travel agencies in Europe) and departed from Brussels around 7.35pm. Less than an hour later I landed at London Heathrow Airport.
It was a small Boeing 737 plane, carrying only a few passengers. When the plane was in the air for just a couple of minutes everybody got offered a cup of tea or coffee and a glass of water. I had the coffee, looked outside the window twice and landed in London already. (Okay, I did visit the captain and co-pilot in the cockpit for a pictur – this was still possible in 2001).
According to the captain it was around 23 degrees Celsius out here, but when I got out of the plane and walked on the jetway it felt warmer and just more humid than the dry hot sun in Paris. Oh hello United Kingdom, I can handle you, I think!
I got my luggage from the belt and changed the 200 Belgian Francs I got from Sophie in Brussels into British Pounds, so I could get myself onto the London Underground “tube” to the right address. Sophie was not going to accept a “No I don’t need money”-plea from me.
This is how you could get from Paris to London in one day, but most people do it without a beer stop in Brussels.
So I arrived pretty late, around 10.30pm, at the Arts Café on Commercial Street in Spitalfields (where Jack the Ripper committed his murders!) where my host for tonight, Paul, was taking care of the sound system while a band was playing some funky music.
At a certain time, when the words about me being there got spread out over this café, I had to come on stage and do this little announcement about my project. It basically became a live “If there is anybody out here who wants to invite me over in London for this weekend, just come up to me,”. A few people eventually came up to me later this night, asking for more information about my project and exchanging addresses and phone numbers. That was pretty much fun.
When the business closed around midnight, Paul took me up to the garden of the Vibe Bar, a really cosy place with a lot of people drinking and partying outside. When we got “Come on! Finish your drinks!” shouted at us, Paul got on this illegal taxi with this Indian driver who got us to Paul’s house in London’s East End.
Paul got his pillows from the couch and placed them on the ground of his little studio he lives on the 3rd floor. Together wit a blanket this was enough for me and I walked through the cities of London in my dreams.
