On to Ostend:
This is a city on the coast of the North Sea. It is famous for it's beach and fresh seafood, of which I can guarantee you there was a plethora. I was in Ostend from Sunday afternoon/evening to Monday afternoon. I could have stayed a bit longer, but I figured my skin had had enough of the sun, and I could only lay/sleep/read on the beach for so long by myself. That weekend was also a great weekend to go there because there was a huge Mariner's Fest going on. Tons of watercraft, mostly wooden and expensive looking (I'm not sure that they would be called yachts) were everywhere. People were seriously flooding the streets. My hostel was also easy enough to find, once again without a real city map, just consulting a sign here and there. It was also pleasantly close to the beach.
After dropping my things at the hostel I walked to the beach to sit for a bit and enjoy the water.
It was at that point that I somehow got hit on. I was bury my calves and this guy came up to me offering to help me bury myself. Whereas I at first thought that he would just go, he started talking to me, asking if he could sit with me. I said yes, figuring nothing would happen. (nothing did) I found out that he's from Afghanistan, though he was quick to mention that he has no problem with the US and sort of likes Obama. He's living Belgium I think to learn Dutch, though he kept calling in Netherlands, at first refusing my attempts to correct it and say Dutch, because he thought I was saying Deutsch, referring to German. We were speaking in English/French. He wanted to speak English, though it probably would have been easier to speak French honestly. He apparently works at some pizzeria too. I was just sitting there looking at the ocean; I mean he was the one who came up to me, so he should really be carrying the conversation. Eventually after some small talk he had to go and gave me a hug goodbye. I have his number and email address...I haven't decided what I'll do with them yet. :) He has nothing from me, just my name.
I also walked around into the main part of town and the pedestrian zone. It looked like it might have been a great place to look for a dress, but I really didn't want to spend anymore money or try things on, so I decided against that. There were stages set up here and there and also booths selling anything from nautical gear to food. After I got hit on by that Afghan guy, I decided to go out to the far end of the boardwalk and enjoy the sunset with a beer.
I felt obligated to try more than one beer while in Belgium. Well while sitting there by myself, kind of imagining that someone would talk to me or approach me, though there was really no one interesting there, I noticed the bus boy. He seemed pretty cool, black, pretty good looking, and at least young. It was just my luck that he decided to wipe off all the tables, including mine. I said "Merci" to which he replied " You speak French?", in French. Then we proceeded to try to make conversation. It was quite hard to understand him due to his accent possibly, but moreso to his probable use of slang and word order when asking questions. I managed to talk to him though, especially after I got him to repeat things or say things more slowly. At one point I said my French wasn't very good and he kind of agreed (I think) but then when I proceeded to explain why I didn't want to go out or why I wasn't sure, he said my French was good, which I'm sure in my position it was. Yuipee! He asked if I was going out that night and said that he would be "there". Wherever that was... I said I was thinking about going out but wasn't sure what I would be doing yet. He decided to give my his name and number if I was interested so I could contact him later that night. I was sorely tempted to go out, but for various reasons, none of which being safety, I decided not to go. When I tried to text him the next day telling him I couldn't go out the night before, but asking if I could call him if I was in town again (I'm considering going back one weekend), he didn't respond. Schade... but I'll try again if I go back. This is what the walk back from the boardwalk looked like:
The next day I decided to check out the cathedral/church and the park before heading to the beach. I'll spare you the photos from yet another church. It is amusing to note though that some children had recently made their First Communion and had written short comments on what it had been like for them. These were hanging on a board inside the church. Despite the fact that they were written in Dutch (Ostend is primarily Dutch speaking town), I was able to figure out what most of them said. I had to chuckle: "It was a very emotional day for me", "Jesus is my best friend", etc. Unfortunately I can't remember the rest exactly. The park was very pretty and small.
I then proceeded to lay on the beach for about 5 hours, where I got a nice tan on some parts of my body, and an unfortunate but not terrible burn where the sun block wasn't as aptly applied.
After way too much hassle, mostly in Brussels, I arrived home in Aachen. It was so nice to be back in my own bed and I managed to be completely rested for work today. It's lovely to think that it's only a three day work week since I'm taking Friday off to go to Cleves. I'm also very excited for that trip. There remains of course odds and ends to do around here and getting out more on my own in the afternoons and evenings, but time escapes so quickly somehow. à bientôt!
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