So…! It’s been far, far, far too long since I’ve blogged.
Too busy preparing, well, actually finally writing and finishing my keynote
presentation about Vincent van Gogh's Symbolist art for Brighton last week. It went well and a video will be available
on YouTube in a few weeks.
I’m on the train from Manchester to York, to Edinburgh, to
Ladybank and then finally to Fife, where I'm staying in a little cottage in Lindores. About five and a half hours of traveling
today... My god, so much has happened since I left you last in Belgium. I’ve lost
not one, but two bloody cell phones. More on that later.
Here, I hope to recap, a bit, some of the adventures; getting you up to date with the amazing details of this incredible journey
later.
But first, a pitch. Halfway through the
journey of this quest, I find myself running low on money. While all of
the travel, accommodations and various museum and activity tickets have been
paid for well in advance; I’m afraid I won’t make it to the end of my
pilgrimage and I’m hoping you (yes, you) can help.
So, I’d
like to offer you (yes, you!) a signed, personalized copy of my first book.
It’s called Plaits, which is a homonym. Plaits are braids but the word also
sounds like the plates from which we eat our food. The book is a collection of
poetry and recipes. I have entwined a crown of sonnets within a seven course
meal. (Brilliant, I know… and wait until you read it!)
Recently, my friend Rachel attended a poetry seminar in the
Hamptons. US poet laureate Billy Collins was teaching. When she told me this in
Paris, I dedicated a book to him and asked her to pass it along. Well she did,
and even got a photograph of Billy midway through my book. What a thrill to see
that picture! One of the greatest poets of our time – of all time – was taking
his time to read my words. Overwhelmed doesn’t begin to describe it and my eyes
still swell just thinking of it.
Already have a copy? These make great gifts, especially at
Christmas. It’s never too early to plan ahead (I’m one to talk) and how
wonderful would it be for you, yes you, to gift a personalized copy and be able
to say, “Yeah, I know this guy”? Pretty great, right? In fact, in the attempt to spread this little book far and wide, use the Promo code BOGO and I'll send two for the price of one.
Please click the link here and fill your life, and the lives
of others, with poetry and gastronomy.
So... after visiting St. Andrew's in Antwerp, Connie, Margaret and I upgraded our AirBnB and checked into a two bedroom flat near the center of town. We had dinner, I'm almost sure, somewhere, but I'll have to touch base with them to blog about those details later. What I remember, is in the morning, we were going to head for Brussels. Somehow on the motorway we saw a sign that said we were on a road that would take us directly to Bruges. Margaret and I convinced Connie this was a must-see and so we headed to Bruges! It's a storybook village, you know and more importantly has this:
The only Michelangelo sculpture outside of Italy, his Madonna and Child. It's more beautiful than this picture could ever relate. After seeing this, and weeping, we took a cruise through the canals and found a seat outside of the bell tower famous for having 366 steps. Connie and I were game to climb it, until we had a couple of drinks. There went that motivation... It was on to Brussels!
Besides Amsterdam, Brussels was the first really big city I'd been in. I could tell the difference, even from Amsterdam, immediately. There was a heavy police and military presence. So many officers carrying assault rifles. It didn't bother me. Actually made me feel more safe. What idiot terrorist would mess with such a show of force? The other thing immediately apparent were all of the beggars. Don't really recall encountering any up until Brussels. They would become a theme through the big cities... so much poverty, but also, as an entrepreneur, I feel, so much laziness. Just go clean something, anything for someone, anyone and good things will come from it. At least, that's how it worked for me and my window cleaning company. But that's a story for another time.
I will say this about Brussels, the Grand Place is amazing, especially at night, even if it doesn't fall until 11:30 pm like it did the night we were there.
After this video was taken by Margaret, Connie wanted to see the peeing boy and the peeing girl. They're little statues around the Grand Place. The peeing boy was easy to find; the peeing girl, not so much. But eventually we did find her, next to a pub, spilling over with people. After taking a few shots, Margaret and Connie were ready to say goodbye and head to their hotel. They did Like a prat, I decided to stay and have another beer, not realizing my phone was about to die.
Long story short, my phone was all but dead and I met this guy. Seemed like a nice enough guy. He told me he could help me charge my phone. Like an idiot I gave him my phone and charger only to have him wander off with it. The next day I went to the police office, we had a good laugh. The phone was gone.
Bummer. I had the phone blocked into a paper weight. The next night I had a lovely dinner with Ioana and her boyfriend Yann. I blew out my flip-flops and Yann was good enough to give me a pair of his so I could make it back to my AirBnB in something other than bare feet. The rest of my time in Brussels was pretty uneventful. Depressed about my phone, I didn't feel like seeing any museums or doing much of anything besides moping in my room. I planned my train trip to Paris, did some laundry and likely smoked too many cigarettes in my state of high anxiety.
The trip to Paris was a snap. I met some Irish men, supporters of the national team as I realized the UEFA cup taking place throughout France was going to be a very big deal. When I arrived in Paris, the plan was to meet my friend Rachel at Sacre Coueur. I headed up those thousand steps, took in the amazing view, and found a pub so I could get online on my laptop and have some kind of communication with Rachel as she was flying into CDG and taking the train. Worried she might not be able to find Sacre Coueur, I agreed to walk back down to the train station and meet her. Rather than head back up to Sacre Coueur, we decided to try to find our apartment on the east side of Paris.
Within an hour, Rachel had had her purse snatched by a bloody pickpocket. Oh my.
Au revoir for now,
Jared
After this video was taken by Margaret, Connie wanted to see the peeing boy and the peeing girl. They're little statues around the Grand Place. The peeing boy was easy to find; the peeing girl, not so much. But eventually we did find her, next to a pub, spilling over with people. After taking a few shots, Margaret and Connie were ready to say goodbye and head to their hotel. They did Like a prat, I decided to stay and have another beer, not realizing my phone was about to die.
Long story short, my phone was all but dead and I met this guy. Seemed like a nice enough guy. He told me he could help me charge my phone. Like an idiot I gave him my phone and charger only to have him wander off with it. The next day I went to the police office, we had a good laugh. The phone was gone.
Bummer. I had the phone blocked into a paper weight. The next night I had a lovely dinner with Ioana and her boyfriend Yann. I blew out my flip-flops and Yann was good enough to give me a pair of his so I could make it back to my AirBnB in something other than bare feet. The rest of my time in Brussels was pretty uneventful. Depressed about my phone, I didn't feel like seeing any museums or doing much of anything besides moping in my room. I planned my train trip to Paris, did some laundry and likely smoked too many cigarettes in my state of high anxiety.
The trip to Paris was a snap. I met some Irish men, supporters of the national team as I realized the UEFA cup taking place throughout France was going to be a very big deal. When I arrived in Paris, the plan was to meet my friend Rachel at Sacre Coueur. I headed up those thousand steps, took in the amazing view, and found a pub so I could get online on my laptop and have some kind of communication with Rachel as she was flying into CDG and taking the train. Worried she might not be able to find Sacre Coueur, I agreed to walk back down to the train station and meet her. Rather than head back up to Sacre Coueur, we decided to try to find our apartment on the east side of Paris.
Within an hour, Rachel had had her purse snatched by a bloody pickpocket. Oh my.
Au revoir for now,
Jared
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