Ik a bruggeling no more

Our departure from Brugge was the most orderly thing I have ever done.

I went to bed early.

I slept through the night.

I did not ruche the linen covers ( they have dykes embroidered on them and are quite pretty in a flemish way. The one not wearing overalls is my favourite) nor did I sleep with one foot out.

I awoke at exactly 05.15 ( am).

I slipped into my house slippers that were on the mat adjacent ( not a hint under) and parallel to my side of the bed stoop.

I made englander breakfast tea for Siena and kaffeeklatsch for mineselfs.

Our hausfrau had the Austrian breakfast of toasted and fried and boiled and chocolated ready early because " vou must not ever missen die train".

My shower was timed to perfection and a perfect 38 degrees Fahrenheit.

The soap was Belgian swan brand and had a image of Mary of burgundy embossed on one side. I used the other side to wash.

My bags packed themselfs and got the boose to the centrum station by magic Belgian planning.

I was determined not to look nervous or un belgian on the boose today so I wore my traveling outfit of knee high boots and leiderhausen and Tyrollean felt hat. The Cuban cigar capped it off perfectly.

 

Siena went by separate transport. She wore linen.

We arrive at Brugge station a polite amount of time erly.

Our hausfrau came to say sing Goode bye.

There is a grassy knolle joost oppsitte the station. It reminds me of the hill oppsite the house paddock at new buildings actually.

This is her




She reminds me of someone, at first i was thinking Berta from 2/half men but the hair is too short and she isnt in a cardy but I can't put my finger on whom.... Any suggestions? I know I will kick myself when you tell me

 

Anyway I sang back to the hausfrau. I had gone to the trouble of learning the song that Jan sang to Margerita ( the one with the horns hair) on their wedding nichte.

It goes like this and the melody is reminiscent of a crowded house song.

 

Oh margerita

Your mussels are the best

I vill clasped zem to mine chest

With the beer and the celery

And Un onion or two

You know what to do




Chorus

Ah la lala blikendoorna

Oh la lala melta choccie inyour koorna




Oh Margerita

How zee-bout a biet of miner unt kliener

Under the vindtmill coolers blue

At least until the half past two




Ohh la lala blikendoorna

Oh la lala melta choccie inyour koorna




Oh Margerita

What hastheth thouest doon to michten heart

Oh Margerita

Please draw zee blinden down

And get out of zat dressing

Gown




Ohh la lala blikendoorna

Oh la lala melta choccie inyour koorna

Oh la Lola lala

Gerspruzien forna mortgen storma

Splatte...

It is a funny ending and sounds a bit awkward when sung in Flemenglish and with out accordion or fuegel horn and,

because you have to juggle pots of hot moules as you sing,

but the hausfrau seemed to like it and was moved to tears.

We reminded her of her children as it turned out. I look like her daughter and her son is blonde and knows a lot about roses and is a very good photographer.


She is probably still weeping.

the train took us away and the sound of her sobbing has whispered away down the low country tracks...

 

Paris put a little white cloud out moi window for my return.

 

 

I went in search of Victors house

He used to live over there.


I love Paris

The louvre tomorrow

I will buy postcards and send them .

Later

M