France, but not really.

Today was my grand exodus into the land of other languages. I checked out of my room (bed?) around 9:45, took the Tube to St. Pancras, where I checked in for my trip on the EuroStar. I was frisked by the French Border Patrol and had my passport stamped with a Euro-zone visa, in of all languages, French. Not the souvenir of my voyage across the channel I had always hoped for, but it’ll do. As the train left the station, I was excited about a last sweeping vista of London at 300km/hr, only to discover that the path from central London to the country surrounding London was underground, so the long-anticipated view was really just a black void.

As we submerged from the underground of London, the train zipped past a Ford factory. I might have giggled a little. For the next (brief) 30 minutes, I had the opportunity to see the rolling hills of the lower British Isles, and it was very pretty. Their grass truly is greener than most of what I’ve seen in the US, and that’s probably because the climate is perfect for that green stuff, while most of North America is suited for that yellow stuff. I would have taken pictures, but my first attempts were blurs. The shutter was too slow for the train. As I enjoyed the partly cloudy skies and sheep gently grazing the green grass, we were sucked into another tunnel, this time under the English Channel. There’s really not much to say about it. It was a dark tunnel. The train was moving through it very quickly. It was the perfect time for a nap and/or some serious thought.

So I thought about the Chunnel. Back when it was being built, it was said that the lack of direct connection between the two largest capitals in Europe was in itself an economic burden. For hundreds of years, the only way between London and Paris was the Thames and the Seine, and only recently Heathrow to de Gaulle. Then I started to think on a much larger scale. If the Chunnel opens up markets never really before realized, what does the EU mean for Europe? Such integration and open commerce really is a new thing for the Continent. For hundreds of years, goods would cross borders only after being taxed heavily and their goods searched. Does the creation of this Economic Community mean the dissolution of the import/export ratio amongst countries if they all function under one catch-all marketspace? Is this necessarily a good thing? Does it take into account the strengths (and most importantly, weaknesses) of all of the Euro-club? Is this EU a good thing?

But once again, the topic of a book, not a blog.

And then we came out of the tunnel and the sun shone onto my face in such a bright fashion that I came startled from my almost-slumber. I was now on French Territory, at the mercy of the Republic. The lady next to me was taking up the armrest, so I was glad to see her get off at Lille. I then had a 30-minute joyride into Brussels (the “other” extension of the EuroStar train). I got off of the train and the stress began. I really had to pee, I had no Euros, and I don’t speak French. Even though Dutch (the other “official” language of Belgium) is basically German with some weird throat sounds, I don’t dare attempt it. Trying to find the bus station was taxing. Some signs and a picture of a bus, but most were just a jumble of French words and arrows. I had about 20 GBP (10 of which I found later), so I converted that over to Euros so I could buy bus fare. I got off the bus where the map told me to, and I walked in a circle. The streets are not very well marked, so I was relying on the map in my mind’s eye. I eventually found my residence for the next two nights (not shabby, much better than the one in London), checked in, and realized that I was hungry.

My first attempt at an ATM was disastrous. I typed in the wrong PIN number, so my card was declined. At first, I thought this to be no big deal, but when my card was declined at other ATMs and at a restaurant, I realized that something potentially disastrous was happening. Because I had put the wrong PIN number, my card was frozen. It took me about 3 hours (while I was very hungry) to sort it out over a payphone in the center of the city. I could imagine the next few days in Brussels, only 3 Euros to my name, and food here is really expensive (and you thought London was bad.) At least breakfast is served at the hostel, right?

Well, it all got sorted out and I bought a Belgian Waffle covered in chocolate. It was a justified treat. I then hopped on the Metro (subway) and whisked myself away to the site of the last World’s Fair Exhibition. I saw the Atominium statue all lit up, and then I went back into the city for a few hours. Now I’m at my residence (with free internet, but not reliable internet, I might add), ready to go to bed. I’m museum hopping tomorrow – Beer, Chocolate, and the Guilds.