<p>16 June 2009</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>One of the great things about Brussels is that it's a real hub: friends often pass through. A couple of weeks ago I discovered by chance that Meera, a scrabble buddy of mine from Tanzania days, was scheduled to attend some meetings in&nbsp; Brussels. She is now working with the World Bank in Washington. We had last met about six years ago, and I'm not sure she even knew I was back living here. I immediately got in touch with her - and she claims I knew about her forthcoming trip before she did! She managed to arrange to have a day off after her official business, and asked me to plan something.</p> <p><br />So what is there for visitors to do in Brussels? Well, you could visit any one of a number of superb museums, including the newly opened Magritte Museum, you could wander around the city, visiting the Grand'Place, and the Saint Michel Cathedral, or you could go further afield - we're only about an hour and a half from the beautiful city of Bruges. You could even spend the day lazing around in parks - Brussels is the second &lsquo;greenest' city in the world, after Washington - not in the environmental sense, but in the number and size of parks.</p> <p><br />But no, I had other plans for Meera.</p> <p><br />&lsquo;Are you fit?' I asked. Clearly, she is. She's slim, gorgeous, and a nutritionist to boot.</p> <p><br />&lsquo;What did you have in mind?'</p> <p><br />&lsquo;You do cycle?'</p> <p><br />&lsquo;Well, if it's not hills.'</p> <p><br />&lsquo;Flanders is flat; we're going to Flanders.'</p> <p><br />So early in the morning Meera and I took the train to Mechelen, a half-hour journey north.</p> <p><br /> My &lsquo;A V&eacute;lo, Mesdames' group had cycled up the previous day, and had stayed at a sports centre. Two bikes had been taken up in a van for myself and Meera. For those of you who haven't read my biking stories, &lsquo;A V&eacute;lo Mesdames' is the group I found when I was looking for biking lessons to improve my confidence in the city. Most of the participants are Moroccan ladies from a community centre in the city, and many of them have just recently learnt to ride.</p> <p><br />&lsquo;It's a twenty minute walk from the station,' we were told. Well, the directions we had weren't the clearest, and my Flemish is not the best, so it took us an hour and a half to find our group.</p> <p><br />&lsquo;We came up through woodland,' Carmen, the instructor, told us. &lsquo;But it was rather muddy, so we're going back along the canals.'</p> <p><br />&lsquo;How far?' Meera asked.</p> <p><br />&lsquo;Thirty kilometers.'</p> <p><br />&lsquo;Hmm, I guess we'll manage.'</p> <p><br />Before we even set off, I received my first biking injury - a large gash on the chin. A classic: as I was attaching my bag onto the back of my bike, the elastic twanged into my face. I felt it looked quite heroic.</p> <p><br />Soon we were off. Three other helpers assisted Carmen in keeping the dozen or so of us on track...well, sort of. The route was stunning, past lakes and along quiet canals where parent ducks were taking their ducklings for gentle swims. All very pleasant. Every now and then we stopped to regroup, and our &lsquo;guides' pulled out their maps. We noticed they weren't all in agreement and there seemed to be a lot of discussion. At one point we went all the way round a huge lake and ended up where we started, and I don't think that it was intentional.</p> <p><br />After about two hours I asked Robert, one of the helpers, how far we'd ridden. &lsquo;Thirty kilometers,' he replied. And it certainly didn't feel as though we were close to Brussels. A couple of the helpers were beginning to complain, but the ladies were perfectly happy, chatting away among themselves. That's when we came across a sign that read &lsquo;Mechelen 6, Brussels 18.'</p> <p><br />Ah well, the day was lovely, breezy with a few clouds. Soon we stopped at a caf&eacute; to have our picnic lunches. From there it was a straight run into Brussels, with no more diversions. It was fun linking up with different people within the group: that's what I love so much about my itinerant life - getting to know new cultures.</p> <p><br />And Meera and I, surprisingly, were not at all stiff the next day - though I was absolutely exhausted!</p> <p>To see photos of our expedition, see http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=128533&amp;id=664241054&amp;l=7395d657e3</p> <p>&nbsp;</p>

<p>&nbsp;</p> <p>It's great fun trying to find your way when you're driving round Belgium: the names of the towns can be very confusing. In Dutch-speaking areas, the signposts are in Dutch, and in French-speaking areas, they're in French.&nbsp; Fine if you're travelling to Bruxelles/Brussel, or Louvain/Leuven, even, but if you're on your way from Flanders to Tournai, you need to know that you should be following signs to Doornik. And would you believe, Lille is signposted Rijsel from anywhere Dutch-speaking.&nbsp; But you soon get used to it.</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>Last week I went to Antwerp for the day with my friend Monique.&nbsp; She lives in Waterloo, just near Braine-l'Alleud where I used to live, about 20 k south of the city centre - very much a French-speaking area.&nbsp; We met at the Central Station in Brussels, took a local train that stopped at every unheard of hamlet on the way, and had a great day in Antwerp, shopping and practising our Dutch.&nbsp; On the speedy train on the way home, there was an announcement (only in Dutch, of course: we were in Flanders):'Dit trein stopt in Brussel Nord, Brussel Centraal, Brussel Zuid en Eigenbrakel.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Hey, Monique,' I said, 'you don't have to change trains in Brussels Central- this train goes on to Braine-l'Alleud!'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'How do you know?'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'The guy said - Eigenbrakel - that's Braine-l'Alleud.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Are you sure?'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>'Of course I'm sure, I lived there for six years.'</p> <p>&nbsp;</p> <p>No wonder this country has problems, if people don't even know the name of their own neighbourhood in a language that is widely spoken only about three kilometres down the road from where they live.</p>

<p>&nbsp;</p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;">Yesterday, in the Flemish town of Tongeren, 26-year-old school teacher Els Clottemans was sentenced to thirty years in prison for the murder of&nbsp; fellow-skydiver, 38-year-old married mother-of-two Els van Doren. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>Both women belonged to the same skydiving club, and on the fatal day, they had planned to jump holding hands with their shared lover, Marcel Somers, and another man.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;">Clottemans jumped a fraction too late, and watched the trio as she floated down after them. She saw them separate; she saw both men's parachutes open, and she saw&nbsp;&nbsp;<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>both<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp; </span>Van Doren&rsquo;s main parachute and reserve parachute fail to open. She watched as Els van Doren, an experienced skydiver with over 2000 jumps under her belt, <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>plunged over 13,000 feet to her death.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp;</span>It was found that vital straps in her equipment had been cut.</span></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;">In the week preceding van Doren&rsquo;s death, Clottemans had been staying with Somers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp; </span>Van Doren showed up the night before the jump. Somers chucked Clottemans out of his room, forcing her to sleep on the sofa in the living-room, while he invited van Doren to replace her in his bed. Clottemans, it appears, was well displeased.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;">Clottemans protested her innocence throughout the trial.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp; </span>She was found guilty by the jury, despite there being absolutely no material evidence.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp; </span>It seems that her motive &ndash; jealousy , her technical knowledge, and that fact that she had the opportunity to sabotage her club-mate&rsquo;s parachute, were enough to convince them of her<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">&nbsp; </span>guilt.</span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;"></span></p> <p class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;">Excellent material for a short story- but you wouldn&rsquo;t get away with giving your two protagonists the same name&hellip;</span></p> <p> <p><a href="http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/belgium/8078445/Belgian-skydiver-murderer-sentenced-to-30-years.html">http://www.telegraph.co.uk/news/worldnews/europe/belgium/8078445/Belgian-skydiver-murderer-sentenced-to-30-years.html</a></p> </p>