Woehoe

Je suis Expert

Het is alweer lang geleden dat er hier nog een update verscheen van onze buitenlandse avonturen. We waren dus geland in Parijs, beginnen werken en gesetteld te geraken. Wat daarop volgde was de periode van het juiste ritme vinden. Niets nieuws onder de zon. Maar zo’n periodes duren nooit echt lang. Na een paar maanden integratie in het Franse werkleven werd ik gecontacteerd door enkele bedrijven die op zoek waren naar mijn profiel. Aangezien ik nog niet zo lang bezig was als consultant was ik niet op zoek om te veranderen. Naarmate de tijd vorderde verdween de taalbarrière op het werk en kon ik me toeleggen op mijn effectieve taken die op zich niet zo heel veel voorstelden. Ik moest vooral cijfertjes met elkaar vergelijken, een zeer gemakkelijk taakje waar ik snel mee gedaan had dus zat ik me uiteindelijk veel te vervelen op het werk. Toen kreeg ik het aanbod om als SAS Expert te gaan werken bij Catalina Marketing. Een marketingbureau dat iemand zocht die ervaring had in analyse van supermarktgegevens, meertalig was en in het Insight team nieuwe solutions kon ontwikkelen en oude verbeteren en automatiseren. Een mooie functie die ik niet kon laten liggen. Het laatste jaar was ik al in meerdere stroomversnellingen terecht gekomen. Eerst in Londen een nieuwe uitdaging bij Royal Mail, dan de vrij plotse verhuis naar Parijs, redelijk vlug een job gevonden en dan nu opnieuw de stap vooruit als ‘Expert SAS’. Nu mag het even rustiger aan.

Op mijn eerste dag in Catalina had ik het gevoel dat ik eindelijk volledig aangekomen was in Parijs. Voordien waren het zes intensieve maanden geweest van Frans leren en onze weg zoeken maar nu zijn we definitief vertrokken. De collega’s zijn allemaal jonge mensen, die op woensdag gaan voetballen, elkaar met stressballen bekogelen om te ontspannen en geregeld spontaan een half uur reserveren om een verjaardag te vieren.. Precies de omgeving waar het goed in vertoeven is, vooral ook omdat het werk interessant is.

Je vous présente ma femme

Maar een mooie job vinden was nog niet het belangrijkste recente wapenfeit. Na een jaartje verloving en een serieuze voorbereiding zijn we ook heel vlotjes getrouwd geraakt. Mijn laatste doelstelling voor de trouw was in form geraken, kwestie van wat scherper te staan voor de trouwfoto’s. Een gedisciplineerde training van enkele maanden werd afgesloten op de halve marathon van Brussel op 10 oktober. Na een onzekere start (hoe snel mag je zo lopen als je het wil overleven?) en een sterke finish (iets sneller dus) rondde ik de wedstrijd af in 1 uur 41 minuten. Niet slecht voor een eerste keer, mijn doelstelling van onder de 2 uur te blijven was ruimschoots behaald. Volgend jaar nog beter! Maar het beste moest nog komen natuurlijk.

De donderdag voor de trouw begonnen de festiviteiten met de ‘schieting’, het traditionele feestje waarbij de hele streek enkele uren het hels geknal moet aanhoren van de kanonnen die het huwelijk aankondigen. Een paar bakken bier, een houtvuur buiten (het is koud in oktober) en een twintigtal lokale sympathisanten en we waren vertrokken voor een mooie avond. De ambiance zat er al goed in, dat beloofde voor de trouw.

Op zaterdag was het dan de grote dag. Ik had goed geslapen. Louise was bij haar thuis in Brugge, ik bij mijn ouders in Anzegem. Behalve toen ik moest beslissen welke das ik zou kiezen voor de mannen in de suite was ik nog geen seconde gestresseerd geweest en ook die ochtend helemaal niet. Ik wist waar ik aan begon op het moment dat ik mijn aanzoek deed en ik keek enkel uit naar wat zou komen. Een paar luide knallen luidden het begin van de grote dag in. Buiten stonden de buren opnieuw met het schietijzer de wereld te verblijden vroeg in de morgen om ons een voorspoedige dag te wensen. In de verte zag ik een prachtige volledige regenboog. Een goed teken? In feite was het vooral een teken dat het daar in de verte, richting Brugge al serieus aan het regenen was. Het zou de hele dag door blijven regenen, behalve het moment dat we uit de kerk kwamen. Louise had lichtjes tot niet zo lichtjes symbolische rijstwerpen aangevraagd en dus kregen we dat ook. Minuten lang werden kilo’s rijst over onze hoofden uitgekapt. Mijn zwart kostuum (met blauwe das) werd spontaan een zebra-kostuum door de vlekken die de rijst achterliet, makkelijk op te kuisen gelukkig. Maargoed, we lopen vooruit op de feiten.

Eerst was er de trouw voor de wet op de Burgh in Brugge. We namen van de gelegenheid gebruik om al wat groepsfoto’s te nemen. Ik had geen verwachtingen van die wettelijke trouw, gewoon contract tekenen en wegwezen dacht ik. Maar de schepen van Burgerlijke stand van Brugge maakte er toch iets significants van. Hij nam de tijd om te vertellen over het belang van het huwelijk en de liefde. Dit alles in een prachtig Neo-Gotisch ( ?) decor. Na de trouw van de wet was er officieel tijd voor de fotoshoot. Het was koud en het regende een beetje maar toch waren we toch een uurtje zoet met bibberen en lachen in de Brugse binnenstad en in het station, voor wat ongetwijfeld memorabele foto’s zullen zijn. In de namiddag volgde de trouw voor de kerk, waar we toch wat tijd ingestoken hadden om het persoonlijk te maken. Twee goeie vrienden als ceremoniemeesters leidden alles in goede banen. De “Treulich geführt” van Wagner (‘daar komt de bruid’) zette in en we waren vertrokken voor een uur lang een geweldige mis. De immer ontspannen jonge priester van de St Baafs parochie, Vincent, vervulde zijn rol perfect. De nichtjes en neefjes brachten een toneeltje, de zussen lazen en de moeders kregen het laatste woord. Het perfecte plaatje, al had ik het nog altijd koud van de fotoshoot vooraf. Gelukkig was er buiten na de rijst-storm een aperitiefje voorzien om het bloed wat op te warmen en de festiviteiten te beginnen. De volgende stop was het rusthuis in Anzegem waar we een eerste feestje bouwden met de grootouders die het grote avondfeest niet zouden bijwonen. Daarna nog wat hobbelige natuurfoto’s in Anzegem en de receptie kon beginnen. Vooraf had ik mijn twijfels over hoe leuk dat eigenlijk zou zijn, zo in een rijtje staan en allemaal mensen verwelkomen zonder er eigenlijk echt iets tegen te kunnen zeggen. Maar het viel supergoed mee. Een paar glaasjes champagne drinken en intussen honderden gelukwensen, kussen en glimlachen ontvangen. Pure positive vibes die je niet vaak in zo’n mate meemaakt.

On fait la fête

En dan was het tijd voor het grote avondfeest. “I’ve got a feeling – Black Eyed Peas” begon te spelen, wij gingen de zaal binnen en iedereen stond op hun stoel met hun servietten te zwaaien. Ongeloofelijke ambiance van de allereerste seconde. Ik krijg er letterlijk nog kippevel van telkens ik dat nummer nu hoor. En daarna ontwikkelde zich stelselmatig het perfecte feest. Ik die nog eens kon uitpakken in een speech, uitstekende maaltijd, geweldige showtjes van de vrienden, de aankomst van nog meer feestlustigen en dan de mooie openingdans waarna de dansvloer zich vulde en niet meer zou leeg komen te staan tot vijf uur. That night was a good good night. Ik kon me geen betere trouwdag gedroomd hebben.

Meet the neighbours

After having spent almost three years in London and now five months in Paris, one would almost forget that there’s still something we used to call ‘home’ back in Belgium. Home is a wonderful place where I grew up in absolute happiness. I remember the green open spaces of my hometown were I would just lie on the grass and watch the clouds pass by in absolute silence. It’s also the place where our family and closest friends live, the people you could never imagine not having around forever. But still we chose to move to big cities, to live in very small spaces and to share parks with thousands of others whenever we want to lie on the grass. This also means meeting new people from all around the world every day and discovering whatever life has got to offer. There are great sacrifices on the one hand, great rewards on the other.

Once in a while the two worlds collide. One weekend in June Louise was in Venice for work (eating ice cream and buying shoes), so I took the opportunity to invite a bunch of Belgian football buddies for an “old-fashioned training camp”. They’re not really the type of guys that get a kick out of travelling. They’re most comfortable playing football and grabbing some beers afterwards. I was surprised to see the general enthusiastic acceptance of my invitation. The ‘no wives’ - bit in the invitation might just have done the trick. 5 of them would come and crash in our tiny flat for a weekend. I set some basic ground rules and reminded them to bring a mattress and perhaps some beer if they were looking to booze a little. When I picked them up at the Metro stop close to our flat on Friday, they were to be heard and seen from a distance. Each of them was carrying a heavy bag. They did not bring mattresses; they did not bring towels or clothes. They brought beer. Over a 100 liter of cans of Jupiler, Belgian’s finest lager. As these cans were significantly heavy, they started drinking them along the way, getting themselves nicely toasted even before arriving. I was happy to meet them as I knew them back home, unaffected by the big city. As they marched into the flat on the 5th floor we were soon reminded that we were not partying in our local backyard but in a building which was inhabited by hundreds of people. After that first excitement two of the heroes crashed and fell asleep into each others arms. The others went for their first pita of the weekend (we would round up with our 4th pita on Sunday evening). Whilst eating our midnight snack on a bench, one showed up with a toilet seat he amazingly found lying around. Yes, it would be an interesting weekend.

On Saturday we woke up pretty early – sleeping on a wooden floor does not stimulate lying in. I got some baguettes for breakfast, we filled a bag with beers and we were on our way. As for some it was their first visit to Paris, I wanted to show them at least the essentials. We walked along the Seine, Notre-Dame, the Eiffel-tour, the Louvre, the Marais, Montmartre (Moulin Rouge) and Sacre-Coeur just to name a few. On our way we bought beer wherever we found some to clench our thirst. When the active part of the day was over, we went to a pub to see some world cup games or just chilled lying in the grass (at the Eiffel tour) or listen to live artists in Montmartre. The Paris experience was complete. As we opened the windows of the apartment on Sunday morning and I put on some classical music (as I like to do on Sunday mornings) the neighbours were welcomed with a mix of Tchaikovsky and Belgian humour noises. And then it finally happened: the door bell rang, somebody was at the door. I expected some angry French woman (we heard some angry cries the night before) but to my surprise it was our neighbour from upstairs, Bertrand, I met the other day. This time he was not stoned, just a slightly bit drunk and asked if he could join the party. I welcomed him and reminded him of our previous encounter – which he did not remember. The Belgians were glad to share some beer with our new friend and performed a live whipping act (yes, leather vs flesh) to his complete amazement. We ended up visiting his flat, meeting Wolfie (his ginger cat) and listening to some Vive la fête music. Apparently Bertrand is a professional bass player who has worked with the best (Interpol) and knows the lead man and woman from Vive la fête pretty good. Cool stuff. We left Betrand to get our lunch at restaurant Casa di Naktel close to our flat. Casa di Naktel is the best restaurant in Paris: great food, great staff, great price. In the end, my football buddies went home happy. Happy with their weekend in Paris, to have seen the city, to have met the people, to have drank over 100L of beer but also happy to go back to their wives and sleep in their beds in their cosy comfortable little town. The pleasure was all mine.

La Bel(ge) vie Parisienne

When it’s sunny in Paris it feels like we’re on holiday in the south of France and the Mediterranean is just around the corner. After work on Friday we decided to go to the park to test our brand new football (in French colours). Just kicking around, a dopy-looking dreadlock dude came to us and started to play along. Being the nice people we are we didn’t object and introduced ourselves. Next thing he took the ball and kicked it as hard as he could into a group of people having a pick nick, hitting a girl on the head. They appeared to be his friends. After 2 more minutes of playing, he went back to join his group and called out to invite us to join them. Eager to meet some people in Paris and being in a relaxed mood we sat down with the bunch of beer and vodka drinking, smoking students. They were studying to get a higher degree in ‘sound’ management and welcomed us with open arms. They loved the fact that we were Belgians because (according to these people) Belgium has got the best culture and festivals in the world. One guy in particular could not stop talking about the many times he visited Pukkelpop, Dour festival, Werchter and how he ended up in Ostend one day. Another was eager to learn more about Belgian politics and thought Tom Barman was the cutest guy he had ever seen…

The next day it was the final day of ‘Belgian week’ in Paris. All week long several Belgian artists were performing all around Paris. On Saturday we were hoping to see ‘A Brand’ in the Cité Universitaire and in the evening a whole bunch of promising groups performed at Montmartre. We took the Vélib to go to the Cité Universitaire. Vélib is a bicycle renting service that allows you to borrow a bike for a day at the price of 1 euro. Given that it was sunny and there are Vélib stations all around Paris, it seemed like a fun idea. It was absolutely brilliant. In no time we drove down to the Cité Universitaire whilst enjoying a nice cool breeze on our bikes. We docked our bikes in one of the stations and went in to the impressive Cité where students from around the world live united in different huge buildings by country. The Belgian House looked quite impressive, especially with the stage next to it and a beer and hotdog stand to provide for all needs. In our case: Kriek and Delerium Tremens. Whilst waiting for the next band to start performing, I accidentally spilled a significant part of my beer on the girl sitting next to me. For maximum impact she was wearing open shoes that were now completely soaked in beer. As I apologized we started talking and found out that she was also Belgian, also studied at the same university as we have and actually knew the student association I co-founded when I was a student. Somehow, I had the impression she was not impressed by the reputation of my ‘Moeder Feeste’ (Mother Party) association nor with the fact that I spilled beer over her shoes but somehow I found it funny how the two observations came together.

We had to leave the Cité Universitaire without having seen A Brand because greater things were upon us. We met up with Linne (Belgian), Rafa (French), Jo and Ed (English) for the final gigs. It started off with ‘Balthazar’, a fine rockband from back home that performed solid. The drink of the night was Affligem, a Belgian speciality beer that the French drink as common lager. Louise discovered Ricard pre-prepped in a bottle so soon we were pre-prepped for the next gig: ‘Sold out’. Never heard of it before, being Walloon-Belgian (not Flemish-Belgian), but it was again very good. Very danceable as well and as the French audience sat down at some tables closer to the bar, the Belgian-spirited ones already started to jumping around a bit. The Disko Drunkards were the final gig. A combination of members of Millionaire, Vive la fête, Deus and the Glimmer twins set the night on fire. At first it took getting used to their strange-ish mix of disco, rock and dance (performed live) but finally the whole crowd was going with it. It was a superb night, our first superb night of partying since we moved to Paris. To be repeated. Still enthusiastic about our Vélib bikes we decided to cycle home which was a bit painful in the end, not knowing the area that well but we managed. On Sunday we recovered through sleep and a decent Italian meal at our local restaurant.

And so we are getting more and more settled down in Paris. Returning from work the other day I met our neighbour on the stairwell. He was stoned out of his mind and almost fell down the stairs as he introduced himself. He seemed like an okay guy and I didn’t mind meeting my neighbour so I didn’t object when he said we should go out for a beer one day. Pleased by my positive response, he came to our flat ten minutes later (still stoned) and started telling me about his cat, Wolfie. I kindly said ‘à la prochaine’ and closed the door to go back to my dinner. Another 5 minutes later, the doorbell rang again and there he was again but this time he brought Wolfie, a nice ginger-white cat that looked rather stressed. I declined his request to meet (and kiss as the French do) Louise but I’m sure we’ll meet again soon in less of a high, the four of us.

Roadtrip!

In November 2008 we were looking forward to organise an exciting holiday for 2009. It did not take us long to find our destination: Yucatan, the Mexican peninsula were the Maya culture once flourished but then mysteriously disappeared, leaving behind massive cities in the jungle. We were going to visit all of the legendary Mayan cities in a 14 day trip in March 2009. Three days before departure we were ready to go. We had read books about the history, I learned some Spanish, got all the necessary vaccinations, a brand new Indiana Jones – like hat and we were counting the days… But then (Wednesday before Saturday departure) the Mexican swine flu exploded around the world and we were strongly advised to change our travel plans. By Wednesday midnight we had rescheduled our trip for April 2010 and booked a last minute trip to Egypt (which turned out great).

On Wednesday 14th April 2010 we were finally completely ready for our Mexico trip. We reread the history of the Maya’s and the Spanish lessons, bought some new walking shoes and our bags were ready for departure. Unfortunately, there was some bad news as dark clouds were appearing over Playa del Carmen. We would probably have to spend the first two days of our trip in always-nice-weather Mexico in the rain… But then more clouds appeared as some volcano continued to erupt in Iceland spreading its ashes over the UK, disrupting all air traffic. Although we now live in France we were supposed to fly from London (as we booked the trip in 2008 before knowing we would move). Still optimistic we took the Eurostar from Paris to London on Friday night to catch our flight Saturday morning. But it only got worse. In the pub on Friday we found out that the British sky was now closed for all air traffic up to mid-day Saturday without signs of improvement. It was sure now: we would not be flying off to Mexico soon. We stayed in London the entire weekend hoping for better news but no, we were doomed. For the second year in a row a very unlikely event completely messed up our Mexico travel plans. But this time it was even worse. We were stuck on the UK island as all Eurostars and ferries were completely filled up with people trying to get to the continent. By Sunday evening we improvised our own last minute holiday. We went online and booked the car for 12 days which would take us to and around Scotland. No hotels or hostels booked, no historic information, no arrangements at all. We would just drive up and enjoy whatever was on our path.

Day 1: London - Kendal

Making the decision to do a road trip was the easy part. On our way we would come across multiple challenges. The first one: getting out of London. The big advantage of living in big cities like London or Paris is that everything is close. You never need to use a car to go anywhere; you should even try to avoid it because driving in such cities is a nightmare apparently. Before departure we were asked if we wanted extra insurance at a cost of £7 a day to cover for any minor scratches (else it could cost us up to £500). Obviously, we said no. It’s just a matter of not scratching the car, no? About 1 minute after having received the keys to the car I saw the potential difficulties. When I looked at the driver’s seat placed in the right side of the car with the stick on the left I realised that it would be a challenging start. When I drove my first couple of meters there was some informative screaming: “you can’t turn right here!”, “stay on the left side of the road!”, “stay on the right side of the lane!”, “there’s a car overtaking on the right!”. Right, we were in England. Which means: driving on the left, going through 5,000 roundabouts and trying not to hit the other thousands of drivers who are not tourists and can’t see that you are because you’re driving an English car. Once we managed to get out of London, things got less hectic. We got organised and decided to buy a road map. It is with that UK map that Louise performed as an absolute brilliant co-pilot for the next 12 days. It gave her something to do and I benefited from the extra pair of eyes trying to find out were to go. Our first stop: Kendal, England.

We chose Kendal because of its convenient location near the M6 and in the Lake District where we previously had a fantastic weekend. Once we parked the car we quickly found the local YHA youth hostel that still had a private room available. They were bunk beds but we were happy to have kicked off our holiday and successfully completed our first day.

Day 2: Kendal - Edinburgh

Soon we realised that the best structure to do our road trip would be 1) breakfast 2) walking/visiting 3) driving 4) search for bed 5) relax. After our (English) breakfast in Kendal we walked up the hill to visit Kendal castle. The weather was great, the castle was in ruins but still pretty cool to walk around in all by ourselves. Next we continued for a walk in typical Lake District style, along the meadows with sheep and their lambs. The walk we did was recommended to us by a YHA employee - who had to call his dad for advice first because he apparently never had a question before about where guests could do a nature walk in Kendal- . On top of ‘Scot Scar’ we were satisfied with the view and decided to move on to our first Scottish destination: Edinburgh.

On our way to Edinburgh we stopped in a little town called Biggar. Not only does the town have a funny name but it also is proud to have won the ‘Toilet of the year 2010’ award for its public toilets. We used them and yes, they are pretty good.

Driving into Edinburgh we realised that our big UK map did not really work anymore once we were in the city centre. After a couple of more “you can’t go left here!”‘s we managed to find a secured parking and a new hostel (with -again- bunk beds!).

Day 3: Edinburgh

The Belushi’s bar (+ hostel) was quite cool, good to have a drink and watch Inter win against Barça in the semi final but it wasn’t the Mexican hotel + pool + sandy beach we were supposed to be in. The next day we decided to upgrade to a hostel that had a double bed and were fortunate enough to get a nice luxurious room with kitchen and bathroom all for ourselves. We moved our stuff and got to the meeting point in front of a Starbucks to start the ‘Free tour’ from Sandeman. This is an organisation that organises all kinds of tours through cities for ‘all budgets’. Seemed interesting (as we had no historic information ourselves) so we signed in for a really enjoyable tour through historic Edinburgh. In an ‘infotaining’ way we learned about Scottish history, Bobby the dog and the ‘Stone of destiny’ through our Canadian guide, Kate, who would rather be Scottish. Edinburgh is a nice city of which many nice stories can be told, definitely worth a visit.

To continue our roadtrip it was imperative for us to buy a CD as we needed a good soundtrack to go with our travels. Finally we went for de soundtrack of ‘500 days of Summer’ (good film, ok music) and Tchaïkovski’s ‘Swane Lake’ (it only cost €1).

Day 4: Edinburgh – Dundee

The next stop in our tour was supposed to be Perth, as I read it was called ‘the fair city’ but as we drove to it we were not as impressed as we hoped we would be and decided on the spot to continue driving towards Dundee. There we managed to quickly find another very nice double bed room. Dundee is a town next to the sea and there we realised that Scotland is not Mexico. As we only packed clothes for tropic heath we were wearing shorts and t-shirts to face the cold northern breeze that was going through the city. We decided to suit up and went on a shopping spree buying pants, sweaters and brand new (fake leather) jackets. A nice steak and chocolaty ice cream in an American-styled restaurant finished a good day.

Day 5: Dundee – Inverurie

Dundee is not really touristy although they do try to do their best. We spent an hour in their MacMannus museum (a museum about everything) and then went for a swim in their fully equipped swimming pool. Unfortunately, the waves and water slides were not in operation at the time. Swallowing away the disappointment with fish and chips we decided on our next stop: Aberdeen.

Getting closer to Aberdeen we realised this was again a larger city, we entered the heavy traffic and then (again) on the spot decided to drive on. We have had enough of city walks, it was time to go into the beautiful countryside of Scotland. And that’s how we found Inverurie. Louise spotted the little town on our map and we went for it. It was already getting around 18h so we knew the tourist information centre would be closed and we still needed to find a place to stay for the night. The first two B&B’s we found on our way were full and closer to the centre we did not find any. It started to drizzle a little bit as the sun started to go down. In a pub that also rented rooms we were offered a bed at €80 by a very dodgy bar tender, not quite within our budget of €50. We went back outside and Louise started to wonder if we ever were going to find a room in this town. Walking up the high street we came across a fancy historic hotel were the local Rotary club meets. We decided to go inside and soon realised that this would probably be out of our league too. When the friendly lady at the reception asked us what kind of room we were looking for I jokingly said “the cheapest room you have”, hoping that there would be something that was not on the published pricelist. ‘Well’, she said, ‘I can give you the €75 room at a reduced rate of €55’. Lady Fortune was on our side that evening. We gladly accepted and after dinner in the hotel restaurant we finished the day by watching the film ‘Hackers’ in our fully equipped luxurious room.

Day 6: Inverurie

The tourist information office in Inverurie is the best we have encountered in our entire Scotland trip. A very friendly American young woman not only showed us to the local options but provided us with information covering all of Scotland. The equally friendly hotel staff offered us an additional night at the same rate so we were set to do our first long walk in the Scottish nature. We drove to nearby Bennachi centre to do the local forest/mountain walks. After five hours of walking we went through the forest, to the top of the hill, into eternal snow and back, to finish off with a quick visit to the ‘Maidenstone’ one of the many ancient stones in the Scottish fields. Afterwards, the local Indian restaurant was too busy to accept guests without reservation so we ended up for a final meal at the hotel. Inverurie has been good.

Day 7: Inverurie – Drumnadrochit

A new day, a new destination. We went up to visit the Loch Ness to find out the truth about that monster that was supposed to live there. On our way we first visited the medieval ‘Tolquhon castle‘, a true hidden gem in the green area near Inverurie. Almost all the walls and floors are still intact so we could really get the impression of what it was like living there. We were again all by ourselves in the castle as we swept through it and found the ‘hidden chamber’ at the end. Our next stop was the whisky distillery of Glendronach. You can’t visit Scotland without tasting its finest single malt whisky so we went for it. After a very informative and enjoyable tour through the distillery we tasted the spirit neither of us actually liked to start with. The inspiration of having seen the brewing process made me appreciate the drink, Louise (equally inspired) couldn’t hide how disgusting she found the taste but managed not to spit it out. Nonetheless, we both enjoyed the visit.

Once we approached the Loch Ness we were amazed by its size. It really isn’t a matter of just having a close look over the water to spot the monster as the lake is many miles long. As we stopped in Drumnadrochit we easily found a B&B of which the lady apologized for not serving a cooked breakfast. I was personally happy to for once not have to eat bacon, eggs and sausages for breakfast. It’s a nice concept but if you do it every day for a week, you really get tired of it.

Day 8: Drumnadrochit – Fort William

We were not really impressed by the very fake ‘Nessie the monster’ information centres so we avoided them and went for a little forest walk instead. We didn’t spend much more time there and went on to our next stop: Fort William. Now we were really driving through ‘the Highlands’. Near a lot of ‘Bens’ (mountains) and ‘Glens’ (valleys) we found a good affordable B&B with a view in the very un- touristy Fort William. For once we decided to chill and stayed in to read a bit, it’s always good to have a break when you’re travelling at the pace like we were.

Day 9: Fort William- Balloch

In the real highlands we didn’t have the ambition to go to the top of the mountains. In stead we walked along the mountains into the valley where we could enjoy the view of waterfalls and impressive flows of water streaming down the mountain. Visiting Glen Nevis, we started our walk passing a sign ‘Danger, fatal accidents have happened’, not really a relaxing thought to start of with. Concentrated we walked the first couple of miles along the mountain and soon we were impressed by the magnificent views around. Going down to the valley we arrived in the scenery typically used for films like ‘Braveheart’. At our destination we crossed the (very narrow and calm) river using a rope bridge, and then crossed back because we didn’t really need to go there. Good fun.

Our next stop was Loch Lomond. I only new this loch from the song we used to sing when drinking as a student ‘I’ll take the high way and you take the low … bonny bonny banks of Loch Lomond’. The most impressive bit of our stay in Balloch was our hostel, based in a pretty castle isolated from the city centre (but still with bunk beds). We went to the local Chinese and watched the film ‘Tristan & Isolde’, which went well with the atmosphere of our journey.

Day 10: Balloch – Euxton

Enjoying yet another walk between the trees with a view over the lake we reached a certain level of satisfaction. After this many beautiful views and walks we were no longer impressed. This feeling was expressed by Louise as she said the famous words: ‘I’m tired of this walking, what’s the fun in just passing by all these trees and all that water?’. I read this as a sign to get out of there as quickly as possible. At one point we were tired of city walks, now we were tired of nature walks. Our Scotland holiday had successfully reached its objectives. We decided to drive back down to England were we could do a final relaxed holiday stroll.

Our goal was Lancaster, for no particular reason, but on our way we came across a Centre Parks complex and we thought it might be cool to spend our last two days with a fun pool and some random entertainment. However, we were stopped and turned around by security even before we reached the reception. Apparently Centre Parks is a little bit more exclusive than we thought and people can’t just visit for a couple of days to go to the pool without reservation. So we continued to Lancaster. Driving into the town it looked perfect. Not too big, plenty of bars and restaurants and even a castle. Helas, two hours later we were already driving away as there were no B&B or hostels in the entire city that still had a room available. Apparently there was an issue with their nuclear power plant and hundreds of technicians were staying over. The guy in the information centre seemed very worried that we wouldn’t be able to find a room anywhere before dark. But we didn’t worry that much, as seasoned travellers now we had managed to sort things out every day and we were sure to do that again. We drove further down, through a little town called Leyland where they only had a four star hotel. Time was going even faster now and it was already after 18h. We decided to go on one step further al the way to Southport which was another fourty-five minutes away. Just as we drove deeper into the unknown we saw a little sign ‘B&B farmhouse’. A lovely retired lady was doing her gardening and showed us to the room. Absolutely brilliant and pretty close to our budget. We stayed there for the night and had a very good dinner in the nearby pub. It was probably the best meat-pie I ever tasted in the UK.

Day 11: Euxton – Southporth – Melksham

After discussing local politics with the friendly B&B owners we went further down in the UK. First we stopped in Southport which seemed to us like it has had its best days although we could still see its old glory. There we finally sent an email to our parents to give them an update to tell them we were still alive after 10 days touring through Scotland. After a walk on the second largest iron peer in England we continued our journey southwards in the direction of Melksham. It was a long difficult drive with rain pouring down, us taking a ‘short-cut’ through Wolverhampton instead of following the M6 and heavy traffic. We wanted to go to Melksham as I have an uncle and aunt living there and we wanted to surprise them. The only issue was that I didn’t have their address but faintly remembered how their house looked like. After driving around for over an hour in Melksham and knocking on doors of similar houses we finally called Belgium on a payphone for an address. One or two wrong turns later we arrived just after 19h at my family’s house who were absolutely surprised to see two strangers with a striking resemblance of their nephew and respective fiancée. We were exhausted and hungry and still hadn’t started looking for a bed. But they welcomed us like family or even better. One freshly squeezed orange juice, tea, spaghetti, wine and apple-pie with ice-cream later they arranged a bed and all was well. As we started to watch the film ‘The Graduate’ Louise soon fell asleep and so did I not much later. We made it.

Day 12: Melksham – London

Our last day of holiday started with a last English breakfast and then we were off to our last stop before returning to London: Stonehenge. For centuries historians have studied this man made circle of stones but in the end they don’t have a clue why it was built. We did the audio tour and listened to the legends and although I didn’t find it that impressive, we were happy to have had our last portion of history on our tour.

From there on it was straight to London to return the car. Again, it was a semi - nightmare to drive to Kings Cross but without screaming this time. We were in full control of the car and we knew where we needed to go. We returned the vehicle with a full tank and without a scratch and took the tube back to Ealing to have a final beer. A solid ending to a solid road trip.

Et c'est parti

Getting started

Less than two months ago I arrived in Paris with some very heavy bags carrying whatever we still had lying around in London. I got some angry looks in the metro because I didn’t push the button to open the doors of the train and I didn’t know instantly how to use the entrance and exit gates. I didn’t know anyone in Paris (except for my fiancée), I had no job and not the slightest idea what living and working in Paris would be all about.

After three weeks of getting settled in and sending cv’s with slow response, I managed to go through three rounds of interviews in a consultancy company and it was looking good. Think again. They called me on Friday to let me know that unfortunately they did not have a project for which they could use my services. Think again. Calmly but firmly I wrote an email to the big boss of the company asking for some feedback, a final final interview and to reconsider the decision. The same day I got a call back: they did have something.

Work

Today I have been working for two weeks as a NOEO employee. NOEO is a consultancy firm specialised in information management. They are specialists in using data available in a business to facilitate and optimise management decisions. Their services go from BI (data validation, reporting) to Statistical Modeling and Management consulting. My kind of business. My first project is with an insurer where I will be doing BI work. It’s interesting to be working in a new industry, on a type project that’s a bit different than what I’m used to, in a different language and as the only consultant of my company around. Interesting but with a tough learning curve as well. Getting a job was the easy part, managing to get through every meeting and writing up extensive reports in French is a whole new challenge. A challenge I’m happy to take on. I’m sure things will get easier in a couple of months and I’ll be transforming businesses as never before. At least, I’ll try. My manager told me I should be a little bit more humble. It just might be worth giving it a try.

Life

In the meantime we’re getting settled in and starting to find some routines. The French start late, take two hour lunch brakes and then stay late at the office. My first Friday I was at the office until 20h. Not quite the quitting-at-four-and-to-the-pub-on-Friday-mentality. I kind of miss going to the pub. Here, people prefer to go to a restaurant for a three course meal several times a week. I’m starting to get full. We have everything we need now at our flat and know our way around the quartier. When we have a long weekend for Easter we’ll probably go on our first exploration trip of France outside of Paris. I’ll try to include some pictures the next time.

Paris hunting

So I find myself sitting in the French Literature hall at the Bibliothèque Nationale in Paris. The place is absolutely packed with students and people taking advantage of the quiet environment with cheap internet. Somehow I still feel closer to the first group although it's clear I'm hear to look for a job rather than study French literature. At 27 I am again in a position of freedom. There's no job I am accountable for, no kids yet to be taken care of, no income to be saved either. Imagine that you're in a position where you do not really have to do anything but where you have the time and space to do whatever you want. What would you do? Travelling, being creative, being lazy, trying new things... Yep, done all of that in the past three weeks. Now I just want to get a job and get on with it.

Job hunting

Week 1

For some reason I expected to have nailed a job within a week of arrival in Paris. I already had two interviews lined up and there were more to come I was sure. The two interviews were at two consultancy companies in need for a SAS analyst. Me. As I arrived Tuesday evening I had my first interview Wednesday morning. Just going over my cv with a friendly guy, who complemented me on my French and said he would take the interview process forward as soon as possible. He called me back the same day to organise a second interview on Friday morning. There they explained they wanted to introduce me at La Poste the next Monday to pitch for a project about Geomarketing. Although I'm not an expert in the area it seemed quite interesting. Not only did I have relevant 'Post' experience and enjoyed working in the sector, I would need to do the 'pitch' myself. This seemed like a challenging exercise.

My interview for the other company was on Friday afternoon. After I had taken a little intelligence test and a first interview, they asked me if I could stay just a bit longer so one of the directors could do the second interview right away. Again I got told my French was more than adequate to work in a professional environment (which was my one and only doubt before moving to Paris) and the same day they also called me back to go on a third interview the next Thursday.

Week 2

During the weekend I prepared my presentation as good as possible. Looked up some Geomarketing papers online and tried to imagine what it was all about using a rough description of the role at La Poste. The structure of the meeting would be so that first they would present the project after which I would present my skills and experience and try to make the link with whatever they told me. However, the reality was quite different. Due to some mix up we arrived late apparently (the agency set everything up) therefore La Poste just wanted to hear about me and what I understood the project was about. The agency guy turned red and almost crawled under the desk as I went for it and delivered a reduced presentation about myself, what I believed could be the project and threw in some geomarketing innovations from the papers at the end. The director of La Poste just said 'La présentation de Martin était parfait' and then discussed how they were already looking at some of my suggestions. Afterwards I went back to the agency where they offered me a contract, or at least the model of a contract because La Post had to confirm first. Unfortunately, La Poste decided in the end to try and do the project inhouse rather than hiring an expensive consultant. I kind of felt that the agency had blown it but then again, I would not have had the opportunity to present without them.

On Thursday I met the founder of the other agency I was talking to. We had a good conversation and he told me they would be coming back to me with either a contract offer or a invitation for a final interview. Still in the running, fingers crossed.

In the meantime I received very few responses for any of my other cv's I sent out. It's clear that agencies can respond quick and are more willing because they make great money out of analysts. I got one response from a big bank saying my cv made it through the pre-selection phase. It looks like my objective of getting a job within the week was a bit ambitious.

Jolie Paris

In the meantime I do have the time to get to know Paris a bit better. I made a couple of long walks in the sun and got to know the city a lot better. Especially the 12th district where we live is really nice. No too touristy, close to a big park in the east of Paris and a lot of southern (Italian, Turkish) influences. Highlight of the experience was when Louise and I went out for lunch on Sunday (following a cosy housewarming Saturday night) and walked into the local Italian place. The owner shook our hand when we came in. Before we were given the menu they brought us each a glass of their homemade cocktail to start with. We then took the 3 course menu formula. I had the mixed salad, steak and mousse au chocolat for dessert. It was absolutely brilliant. The meat was tender and perfectly cooked in a way I failed to experience in my 3 years in London. After our dessert they served us a final shot on the house. A perfect meal at a price of 11 euro's per person. Incredible.

Bloody Paris

Rude

On the other hand the Parisiens can be the most annoying people I have ever met. As the cliché says they are very rude. Especially when they're behind the register of a shop or a bank or behind the till.

Slow

The French also have a crazy administrative legislation which they follow rigourously. It takes about a thousand documents to seal a rent contract, internet subscirption or to get a bank account. People who have to deal with this are then also very slow on top of it. It is super frustrating and tied up in Catch 22's. To find a job I need internet, to get Internet I need a bank account, to get a bank account you need a job and a rental contract, to get a rental contract you need a bank account, ... I'm not surprised it's taking ages for companies to reply to my CV's as I can imagine it has to go through a huge and inefficient process.

Thieves

Finally, I often have the impression the French will rip you off whenever they have the opportunity. Trying to get internet the shop keeper was very clear: 'It will cost you 20 euro for us to come and connect your telephone line, this will take over a month and then a couple of more weeks to have the actual connection. If you pay 50 euros, we can do it in 48 hours.' Also when being offered the contract: 'For tax reasons we split up your gross salary into actual gross salary and daily renumeration. Your actual gross salary is small but your daily renumeration is significant if you add it up, given that you work 365 days - 104 (52 weekends) = 261 days!' In both situations I didn't know whether to smile or cry or look around for camera's.

Conclusion

I was happy to leave London because I was pretty settled there and it's always good to be suprised and challenged in life and to experience new things. Paris is Perfect.

Bye bye Bonjour

So then I arrived in Paris. To keep the UK people up to date of my activities I will update this blog in English from now on.

On Friday, I took the Eurostar from London to Lille for the last time. I spent three years in London and my life has progressed significantly in that period of time. When I arrived I was just a graduate, looking for answers in life and a career in which I could develop my skills and grow as a person. I had no doubt I would find all of that in London and as it turned out I have but also much more than that… I kicked off a great career, learned some valuable lessons and also met some great people that will continue to inspire me for years to come. It hurts to be leaving so much behind but it was a logical step because, as the head of Royal Mail’s Marketing Services pointed out, ‘it’s easier to find another job than to find another fiancée’.

Looking back I guess the things I will miss the most about London are: playing football on Tuesdays, getting free DVD’s from Lovefilm, living quietly next to a nice park but still close to everything, queuing, talking in a polite way, delivering mail, explaining why (Royal) mail is actually not as attractive as it used to be, talking to agencies as a client but being bullied all the way, Dirty Chinese, complaining about the lousy British beer, drinking Guiness in stead of eating, Tesco (the supermarket), peanut butter, cheap alternatives for everything, Koen Michiels, my bunch of professional pool players, visiting the beautiful country that England is.

Things I will NOT miss: the food, the food, the food (luckily, Paris is a step in the right direction), overpriced quality beers, overpriced quality chocolate, delivering mail, spending more than half an hour on the tube, the lack of food before after-work-drinks and the consequent hangover.

Overall it is fair to say that I will miss the UK and the Islandpeople a lot. I’m going to France with the only ambition to try and have as much fun as I have had in the UK. It will be a challenge, but that’s just the thing I’m looking forward to.

To be continued.

2010

Een nieuw jaar

Beste wensen voor 2010! Het begin van een nieuw decennium (of het einde van een oud), in Engeland noemen ze het eerste decennium de ‘noughties’ en moeten ze nog eens nadenken hoe ze de jaren ‘tien’ gaan noemen. Terugkijkend naar het afgelopen decennium zien we dat we redelijk goed geëvolueerd zijn. Ik was 18 jaar oud in 2000 en herinner me nog dat ik toen dacht van ‘the world is my oyster, alles is mogelijk, alles komt altijd goed, carpe diem!’.

Tien jaar later merk ik dat die mentaliteit er nog altijd inzit. Onderweg mag ik dan wel een paar keer uitgegleden zijn, ik kan niet klagen over de uitkomst van mijn doen en laten. Een verloofde, een carriere een goede gezondheid en familie en vrienden die er altijd zijn, wat wil een mens nog meer.

Meer

Ewel, een mens wil eigenlijk altijd nog een beetje meer natuurlijk. We zijn hier nog altijd niet gesettled in Londen dus blijven we uitkijken naar mogelijkheden die het leven nog wat boeiender maken. Het is dan ook geen toeval dat we weer klaar zijn voor de volgende grote move. Vanaf februari 2010 gaan we namelijk verhuizen naar Parijs! Louise werd daar een job aangeboden door Dunnhumby Paris (zelfde bedrijf, interessante functie, ander land) en wij zijn daar graag op ingegaan. Gevolg is natuurlijk dat we weer wat dingen moeten organiseren. Te beginnen met ik die ontslag neem bij mijn Engelse werkgever en op zoek ga naar een nieuwe employeur in Frankrijk die nood heeft aan iemand die zijn data eens goed onder handen neemt. Met enig spijt in het hart vertrek ik dus na een vrij korte periode bij Royal Mail, ik zou er nog vele jaren kunnen gewerkt hebben maar het was anderzijds nooit de bedoeling om definitief in Engeland te blijven. Helaas dus maar hoera. Ik ben benieuwd waar ik nu weer terecht zal komen. Het zal in ieder geval wonderen doen voor mijn professioneel Frans wat geen slechte zaak is als Belg.

Buiten de hele jobverandering is er natuurlijk ook het vooruitzicht van een nieuwe cultuur, nieuwe mensen en een nieuw land om te ontdekken. Et ca me plaît beaucoup naturellement! We zouden bijna vergeten dat we ook nog op reis gaan naar Mexico en uiteraard trouwen in 2010. Goede vooruitzichten dus, moge het komende jaar voor ons allen vreugde en voorspoed brengen.