Off to Belgium

On 11/23…

My flight didn’t leave until 1 but I left early, as I am one of those people who prefer to be 1.5 – 2 hours early when dealing with Int’l flights. Turned out it was a good thing. I caught the 9:15 bus to Mgarr and from there the 9:45am ferry across to Malta. When I arrived roughly a half hour later, I exited the ferry station and headed toward the bus/taxi area. I knew that the buses were no longer running to the airport but assumed there would be a taxi queue. Ummmm…yeah – no taxis. I asked one of the bus drivers and he said he didn’t think there would be any, though he couldn’t be sure because he just started his job that week. He pointed out the bus to Valletta and suggested I ask there. The bus was operated by the same driver as the last time I went to Valletta to meet up with Wim. This time he was blasting 50’s American music and singing along with the radio when I approached. “Wake up a little Susie, wake up… oooh oooh.” I asked him about the airport and he explained that the best bet would be to take the bus to Valletta and from there a bus to the airport. The bus to Valletta takes about an hour from the ferry. I groaned but was relieved I’d left so early just in case something like that came up.

The bus raced up and down and through the winding roads of Malta. Well, raced as much as a bus that is as old as that 50’s music can race. Now used to “Mediterranean time” I was not surprised when the ride took an hour and fifteen minutes instead of the promised hour. Though, I think we could’ve gotten there a lot sooner had the driver not gotten off the bus to chat up someone he saw on the street when a simple “shout out” didn’t work. Most of the tourists giggled to witness the public transit system get put on hold in such a quaint manner but I noticed those of my fellow passengers who were also sporting luggage offer up groans and rolled eyes rather than giggles. Once again, I was glad I left early.
Arriving in Valletta I decided to abandon the bus even though it was reported to only take another 20 minutes to get to the airport from there. (20 minutes in Malta time = 35+) Instead I bailed and found a taxi. In the 20 minutes I was in the taxi, the driver explained that he had 5 children, had been married for 30 years, and spends a month every year in Gozo. In between telling his own tale, he of course asked after me as well and not surprisingly, asked if I’d found myself a boyfriend while I was in Gozo. I told him I was only there for 3 months and he said “that doesn’t matter! Find yourself a boyfriend!!!” Ah, gotta love the Maltese.

Once at the airport, everything else went smoothly and I was able to check in and sit back to relax while having a cappuccino and some snacks before boarding. The biggest hiccup of the trip happened when I connected in Frankfurt. A bunch of us arrived at the gate to board, one of those connections that was just tight enough that you weren’t going to fart around shopping or anything in between. I was getting my bearings in the gate when I realized they were in the midst of making an announcement about my flight and I’d missed the first half. The second half said to proceed to a different gate for a new boarding pass. A few of us looked around hoping someone would explain further but no luck. The gate was also swarmed with the first class passengers who didn’t have to go to a different gate to get a different boarding pass. We decided to make for the new gate and figure out what the deal was. When we got there, there was only a sign saying “Flight Cancelled.” No delay notice, no alternative arrangements, nothing. Hmmm…thankfully shortly after our arrival they posted another flight to Brussels that left an hour later and shifted all of us over to that flight. Whew. I was a bit worried since I didn’t know what plans Wim had for dinner and how it would affect his night if I was late, not to mention how my arrival would work, how long the trains run, etc.

Getting to Brussels I then exited the airport and got on the train to Leuven. Yes my friends, that means that this trip required me to take a bus, ferry, taxi, plane AND train to get there. But as soon as I saw Wim I knew it would be totally worth it. He met me at the station in Leuven and from there we took another quick bus to his and Jan’s apartment.

After getting my stuff inside and finally meeting Jan, Wim made a really nice dinner at home for us. There was a vegetable soup (though not the traditional American kind…this was more like a puree and was green…and actually good considering I’m not a huge veggie person.) We also had a winter salad. I asked Wim what made it a “winter” salad and he looked at me like I was from another planet. “Because it’s winter?” Ha! My favorite part of the meal was this delicious spread Wim threw together to put on the bread he made that was so yummy it was practically dessert. It was fig jam with crumbled goat cheese and then topped with broken up windmill cookies. Definitely something I would never have tried before and I just loved it. And for dessert Wim brought out some local pastries that I forgot to write down the names of, as well as some cookies he made himself. I washed down my dessert with a cappuccino he made in his espresso maker. The whole meal was lovely. After dinner we stayed up talking and catching up about what’s happened in the last 2 months since we’ve seen each other. I think he and I finally went to bed around 12:30, long after poor Jan who needed to be up much earlier for his Kung Fu lessons.