Picking up a “package” in the farmland outside Brussels.

The greatest thing you’ll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return.
Nature Boy, Ahbez Eden

This trip was something like a subplot to the movie “Red.” I traveled to Brussels, Belgium, this week in order to pick up a “package” at a lonely US military post in the farmland just outside Brussels, Belgium. Never mind the “package” was some prescriptions needing refilling, and this is the closest US military pharmacy to Paris.

It started out like any other spy novel. It was a dark and stormy night… Or rather, it was a cold, crisp day in Paris. Before taking a bullet train to Brussels at Gare du Nord, I picked up a baguette sandwich, curry chicken, with a Coke Zero and a chocolate eclair, because it was Tuesday. Eating in the train terminal, I contemplated what had brought me to this point. A month in Paris and already I needed to return to Brussels. A city where eight years ago, a “ship passing in the night” romance still haunted my memory.

My mind went back to eight years ago to that fateful night. Visiting Brussels for work, I met someone while in the city. We said our pleasantries, but could not avoid wondering if there was perhaps something more, a spark of romantic attraction. We began a conversation in a combination of French and English. As the evening progressed we spoke of “many things, fools and kings.” We had a wonderful evening of talking and then walking around the city. As the evening progressed, we made an unspoken choice. We did not share our names. We both knew that since I was in Brussels for a couple of days, it would have meant a long-term relationship. We both thought that might spoil the magic of this night. We took the metro to the fork in our destinations. One to work, one to the hotel. We said our goodbyes, one final embrace of our lives together.

As I sit in Gare du Nord in Paris eating my curry chicken, these memories come back to flood my mind. I often wonder what if we had shared our names and contact information. Would the long distance relationship had worked? Over these past eight years, I remember that evening fondly and smile. It was your stereotypical ships-passing-in-the-night experience which I will always cherish.

An announcement beaks into my reminiscing: the bullet train to Brussels is ready for boarding (https://www.thalys.com). We pass the countryside at breakneck speed, taking only an hour-and-a-half to get to Brussels Gare Midi.

I drop my overnight bag at the hotel (https://all.accor.com/hotel/7431/index.en.shtml?dateIn=&nights=&compositions=1&stayplus=false#origin=pullman) by the train station and go exploring. The evening is chilly and all my the layers are needed to keep out the cold. I walk through the beautiful city to my restaurant. The city is quiet at night with people walking about getting dinner or meeting up with friends.

My restaurant this evening is Le Cirio (https://www.thefork.be/restaurant/le-cirio-r201555). A quintessential Victorian-style restaurant started in 1886, the food and decor was amazing. I had the Flemish beef stew, a traditional dish that warmed by cold innards. The meal included a hot chocolate and french fries. The Belgique are all about their french fries (or rather, pommes frites). I heard a British tourist remark that Brussels might as well be Liverpool with all the french fry restaurants in the city. Apparently in Liverpool they enjoy their “chips” as much as the Belgians enjoy their “pommes frites.”

Back to my “Red” subplot. I woke up the next morning wondering If my instructions to the pick up place was going to get me there. I hadn’t ventured outside of the city of Brussels, so I was unsure how transfers and bus stops would be. Plus, I had to walk 15 minutes along a country road to the destination. I had come all this way. There was no turning back now. I picked up my courage, downloaded a bunch of Google Maps to my phone and started out to meet my contact. Thankfully the metro ticket kiosk had an English setting. The trip on the Metro started out with going in the wrong direction, quickly corrected at the next stop. The transfer to the bus was more challenging. The information in Google Maps wasn’t quite right, so I had to improvise and study the bus schedules posted on a couple of bus stops to find the right one. Fortunately, the bus stop did have a screen with updates of when each bus was arriving. I loaded the bus which indicated taking me to the right place. I realized after a while that the bus did not stop at each bus stop which threw my counting off. So, with my one good long distance eye, I read the small print on each of the bus stop signs along the way to know where I was. What I didn’t mention so far was that my phone service in France does not extend to Belgium. I did not know this until we crossed into Belgium yesterday. So, I lived from Wi-Fi to Wi-Fi to download maps and directions wherever I was going.

After about 30 minutes on the bus to the outskirts of Brussels, I stepped off at my stop. What I didn’t realize was the stop was next to farmland. Fields as far as I could see of fields laying fallow after the fall harvest. Was this the right place? How could the pick-up point be in the middle of farmland? My pulse elevated, I embarked on the road my instructions directed. After about 5 minutes, the sidewalk ended. Remembering my training, I walked on the side where the cars were coming towards me, careful to walk on the fields when I wasn’t sure the cars were giving me sufficient berth. I turned left where the instructions told me to, still going deeper into farmland. After what seemed like an unusually long time to be walking through farmland, I finally spot it. Like an oasis in the desert, the encampment appeared. After showing my credentials, they let me in like a safe house. I received the package from my contact without incident and walked back to the bus station.

After I got back to Brussels, I could finally breath easier. Needing to calm down after the pick-up, I went to Brussels Grand Place and ate in the sunshine.

Getting back to the train station was a little difficult since one of the metro lines was down due to an obstruction in the track. I did finally make it back to the train station, boarded the bullet train back to Paris, and got the package home safely. This was a wonderful adventure reliving old cherished memories and making new ones including visiting the farmland outside Brussels.

I am truly enjoying my time in Paris so far. I’ve met a lot of people, danced a lot, seen a lot of sights, and checked off a lot of those pesky things you need to do when you move to a new country. Many adventures still await.

Until we meet in Paris…