October in Ghent (Tuesday)

After a leisurely breakfast we split. Two of my companions went to Martin Scorstai exhibition whilst I accompanied (under protest) another companion to the industrial Musuem or MIAT as it is known (museum industrie, arbeid, textile). To be honest, although I am into industrial history, this place was a right mess, it was all confused and mixed in and I wasn’t impressed at all. They need a sort out and a good education officer (I am available for the right price).

After a huge lunch of Turkish pide we went back to the room for a quick cup of tea and an afternoon nap in preparation for big, last night drinks this evening.

The first stop was to De Dulle Griet (a bar named after a local canon) in this bar you can get a local brew in long necked glasses which are tempting for people to take as ‘souvenirs’ so, to stop peope taking them, they ask for your shoe as collateral. These shoes are then hoisted to the ceiling in a net until you return your glass.

The next stop was De Trollekeller, or the troll Bar. This is a very pleasant bar full of local Belgium people, and pictures and statues of trolls. The big mural on the wall opposite the bar is, at first, highly disturbing, but the more you drink the friendlier the trolls appear! if you are in the area it is well worth a stop by for a beer or three. In here I had my trusty stand-by a Dutchess De Bougogne, which us by fat, my favourite beer ever.

After a brief stop off to buy some chips we headed to the local institution which is ‘t Dreupelkot, a very small but always packed gin bar. Genevers are Flemish gins and Pol, the man who runs the bar, has many varieties. We opted for bounty (a mix of chocolate and coconut, citron, lychee and advocaat. All were yummy.

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October in Ghent (Sunday)

I had a sleepless night last night, I’m not sure why, it may have been the copious amounts of beer I drank yesterday afternoon which affected the quality of my sleep or maybe the room was too hot, still at least I didn’t had another bad dream. Wednesday I woke up at 1am after having a horrifying dream about discovering a lorry full of trafficked women. They were banging and screaming from the inside and I was trying to break into the lorry from the outside. In my dream my nails were snapping off from the nail beds as I tried to tear through the thick tarpaulin that covered the metal lorry. I woke up sweating and in a right panic. After that I didn’t get back to sleep, this was very unfortunate as Thursday I had a full teaching day followed by a parents evening until 8.30 pm, I was literally running on caffeine.

Still I digress, the plan for this morning was to head for the local flea market (Prondelmarkt) which takes place in a sprawling square besides a medieval church. We had been here before, and even bought things there (last time a Belgium Camouflage jacket) however today it was no where to be seen. So instead we went to Huis van Alijn a history museum set amongst some old alms houses. Some of the things inside were a mystery, the helpful English translation leaflet wasn’t really any help, but in the second building were some real gems; a reconstruction of a chemist shop, a barbers, a seventies room decked out in lurid orange etc. the cafe wasn’t bad either, it was staffed by volunteers with all profits going back into improving the museum, it offered free wifi too.

 

Next we took the number one tram to Musuem Dr Guilain. This is a museum housed in Belgium’s oldest psychiatrist hospital, built in 1857.  (Dr Guilain was one of the first doctors to believe that mental illness could be treated like any other psychical illness, he tried to move away from the asylum idea, where patients were held alone in cold cells, towards a more understanding model, with walled gardens and inner courtyards, where patients could work at trades in the workshops).

 

 

 

The museum houses many interesting exhibits regarding the study and attempted cures for mental illness. Some of the exhibits are truly frightening;  trepanning equipment, straight jackets, brain slicing machines, contraptions for keeping people in baths of lukewarm water (often for days at a time) Electro-convulsive therapy machines etc. The photographs and early films are sad but tell the story of some of the early patients.

 

 

The building is amazing, truly magnificent, but when we first arrived, it was eerily quiet. No one was around and the long, open, walkways full of yellowing, autumnal leaves flying around was quite unnerving, (I actually took loads of photographs to inspire locations in the novel I am currently trying to write).

After this was we went into the Troll Bar (De Trollkelder) to have a few beers before heading to have some North African food in Haira & co. The vegetarian cous cous was fantastic, simple yet very tasty.

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October in Ghent (Saturday)

On a very dark, dismal day in October we set off on our half term adventure to Ghent in Belgium. This has been a very long, full on term at work for me and so I have really been looking forward to getting away for a few days of (as my sister put it) “wall to wall alcoholic oblivion”.

By 9am we were safely seated on the Eurostar (we always try to book the four carrier seats around a table with a window) and were off on our adventure.

The couple seated on the opposite side to us were young and obviously in love; they couldn’t keep their hands off each other but there was something slightly odd and creepy about the whole affair. He was leaning on her in an almost dependant way, she couldn’t stop touching him and pulling him towards her gianormous bosom. At Ebbsfleet three women got on together and it became apparent that the man was in the wrong seat, he looked gutted to have to move away from his beloved (even though they said that they didn’t book together?) and so one of the women said she’d sit in his seat.

The group who sat behind us was clearly comprised of an extended family group, (grandparents, parents and a young child). They all seemed to be trying to complete a crossword together but VERY loudly, they also didn’t seem very bright. (Upper body, five letters starting with T stumped them all, nearly everyone in the whole carriage was whispering ‘torso’). They also seemed incapable of staying seated, it was like a giant game of musical chairs!

Eventually we arrived in Brussels and made our connection to the local train station but alas our train was delayed. When we did eventually get on the train my brother her-in-law struck up conversation with a n English man who said he live in Wood Green in London. He said he owned a chicken restaurant in Islington called something like the Famous Cock. He claimed that he had been supposed to meet his friend a for a free lift to Brussels at 6am but had ‘got wasted’ the night before and had woken up late, fully dressed on his sofa. He claimed that he had paid £180 at the Eurostar check in for a single ticket. What a mug!

When we eventually arrived in Ghent we took the tram into town and headed for Het Waterhuis a lovely, old, waterside bar besides the canal. They had a good selection of Belgium beers which we gladly sampled. By 6pm (local time), we were wasted and headed back to our hotel (the Hotel Gravensteen) for an early night 🙂

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