Let’s start with Five.  When I imagined this weekend, I knew I had to produce a result: be the Zoom host for an internet call on Friday at 2:00 pm, when I’d have a late night after the Springsteen concert on Thursday.  And between the two moments was a train trip between Amsterdam and Brussels.

ALERT!

I’ll continue reminiscing about yesterday in a moment.  But now is pretty precious.  I’m eating breakfast in Simit House.  The young server is delightful.  She so much wants me to enjoy the Turkish foods spread before me.  Her name is Yagmur.

I tell her about the Springsteen concert.  She hasn’t heard of him.  I ask her to look up the YouTube video of “Badlands”.  “I’ll play it right now!”  And she did.

The next thing I knew, on came “Dancing in the Dark” and I was standing in front of the folks at the next table … gyrating.  They applauded.  Life is good.

***

Okay.  Where was I?

I remember thinking “Uh oh … I’m exhausted.  How am I going to get the job done in Brussels?”  No doubt my lips set hard and I knew I would.

I caught an early train from Amsterdam and I thought I’d given myself enough of a cushion.  I exited at the Brussels Noord station and started looking for a “Buses” sign.  None to be seen by these tired eyes.  Somebody said “Over there.  Go back through the station.”  I wandered in that general direction and found myself on a street corner.  A bus floated by but I didn’t know where to stand.

Thanks to the kindness of another stranger I was pointed in the right direction.  Bus 260 stops here and will be along in fifteen minutes.  My hand gripped tighter on the suitcase handle as two buses approached.  The first one bore a number other than 260 and the second had no sign.

A minute later both buses took off.  And the rear window of the second bus showed “260”.  The next one would be along in an hour.  (Sigh)

I finally got to my Airbnb and scrambled to get my laptop set up.  I’d found out weeks ago that Hendrick has good internet.  I was settled and ready at 1:50!

No sweat.

I had two Zoom calls yesterday.  Thank God I didn’t have a job to do for the second one.

No food since 8:00 am and not much sleep was a bad combo.  I shuffled down the street with my cell phone till life presented me with De Klok in the town of Meise.

Half an hour later my lips touched the most exquisite pasta I’ve had outside of Italy.  Veggie linguini that likely was made in heaven.  Eye-opening olive oil and vegetables al dente.  I took small portions rolled lovingly onto my spoon.  O my God!  I was steps away from a four-lane highway full of zooming metal objects.  But really … I was somewhere unknown.

I thanked the chef and told him about me in Italy.  He’s from Sicily.  We shook hands and smiled.

I wonder how I got home.  I only had one beer, a groovy 10% Belgian one named … ?

Interlude: I just spent ten minutes on Google trying to find the name of the beer I had last night.  Quite obsessive of me.  And … success.

Maredsous Tripel

***

Back to today.  I’m sitting on a bench under the trees of Ossegem Park.  A DJ  is doing her thing.  Actually I have no idea how she manages the sounds that are twiddling my fingertips.  Twenty people are standing in front of the stage, talking rather than moving.  But it’s only 1:20.  The Core Festival opened at noon.  Much more to come.

Now I’ve been dancing in the sun for awhile, wearing my new and improved costume.  Here’s what I look like:

I’ve got a few thumbs up for my shirt.  My dancing?  Not so much.  But who cares?

I wore my hiking boots again and they’re getting caught on the wood again.  Tomorrow it’s running shoes.

I’m officially tired right now and a Coca-Cola Zero and I are having a good time under the trees.  Soon it’ll be time to explore a new stage.  There are four.

I discovered a stage with a dirt dance floor!  My feet are like bunnies (well, mature rabbits).  I feel 70 again. There were hundreds of us moving up, down and sideways. We were packed in but my arms wiggled high, and occasionally there was enough room sideways.

I found a late bus towards home – the 251 leaves the park at 12:27.  The last 260 goes at 10:30.  I must remember to wave at the 251 driver.

I was just thinking of bringing today’s blog to a close when three enthusiastic teenagers came up to me, asking for a photo for some publication. “Best dressed festival goers” – that’s me!

I told them I was too shy and then immediately posed with my arm over the fellow’s shoulder. So I’m basically famous.

Tomorrow I’ll post a photo of tonight’s main stage but I’m done writing for a Saturday.

Au revoir