Belgium

At the beginning of March I left Japan for the first time since 2019, on a trip to Belgium and Germany. It was strange and nice to be in another country. Travel is famous for making us reconsider who we are. Or at least it is famous for doing that to me. I begin to seriously consider living in most every place I visit, and that in turn changes the way I think about life and myself.

The purpose of the trip was to help a Japan client firm audit (or evaluate) two companies that supply it with important things for the drug it manufactures. The purpose was achieved with flying colors. And I got to meet in person what had been to me for three years mere pleasant faces and accented voices on screens. These people turned out to be wonderful and we had some good meals and train and car rides together.

I stayed in Brussels for the first time. I had stayed in Liege before, briefly. It felt great. I love a good steel town. Brussels was the country and EU capital you would expect it to be.

The main tourist attraction of Brussels is Grand Place. It was raining when I used the first hour of my one free day to go see it. Rain is the state that I was told it should be in for authenticity. Belgium is the cloudiest country of Europe, our hosts laughingly apprised me. Grand Place was wonderful and impressive.

Most streets were lovely to look at using my unaccustomed eyes. “This,” I thought to myself, “is what it feels like when people who do not live in Japan walk in Kyoto.”

Europe is so damn good at doing this scene.

I went to Bruges, or Brugge if you prefer, and I do, because it is up toward The Netherlands from whose language the latter comes. It is a World Heritage site and exceedingly popular with tourists, of which I am unabashedly one. It was the main place I spent my free day, and rewarded me richly with endless charming streets and canals and buildings lining both. It was full of things for which I am a sucker, visually (alleys, water, bricks, boats, buildings) and culinarily (beer, frites, fish and chips, chocolate).

Despite my commitment to heartily being a tourist, it was pleasant to walk through non-tourist parts of Brussels and see things like a regular old demolition happening.

The food was lovely. Seasoning complexity drops as you move from France into Belgium and further into Germany. At least in my experience. But each does their thing with aplomb.

The company we were visiting kindly took us to an upscale restaurant in Brussels. We were served pigeon, among other things. It was okay.

There were more experiences and photos, but you get the point. I am more than amenable to changing everything in my life and living in Belgium.