If this is Tuesday, it must be Belgium.
Feb. 1st, 2005 08:52 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aamusedinatxIt was a Tuesday morning in June of 2002 when I disembarked from the train in Brussels. I planned it this way, coming as I did on train from London, through the Chunnel, which had opened since my last visit to England. Early that morning, I sat in the Waterloo station having coffee and a croissant with my friend Adam. he had joined me for the English portion of my trip and like me was bound for the continent. As I turned to Brussels his train propelled him to Paris and then beyond.
Adam is the perfect traveling companion. We have been friends for ten years and lovers off and on throughout that time. So sharing a hotel room with him, to save funds is never a chore. We give each other enough space to have separate itineraries, and yet it is a treasure to enjoy a museum in his company, or a dinner out and about. And conversation or even silence on a train trip is comfortable and easy to endure.
When I first met Adam we were at a cyber music conference at Stanford. I was bowled over by the intensity of his personality. It was at odds with his unassuming exterior. He looked like a nordic, Minnesota farm boy, but his eyes looked out upon the world with undisguised genius. I was fascinated and hooked from the moment I saw him. After a period of intense fascination I settled into an enduring friendship that was been a reward through many ups and downs. Can I just say, as much as I adore Adam, he's not a very adept lover. That could explain our more off than on again lover status. And that's fine with me. The friendship we have is more important to me than anything.
And now, on a Tuesday, after two weeks of tooling about Southern England visiting friends, we sip our cappuccino in Waterloo station and wait for our trains which depart within minutes of each other.
"Don't forget to visit the red light district when you get to Amsterdam," he reminds me.
"I won't. Do dance with Sufis for me and pinch plenty of ass while you are in Morocco," I tease him.
And late on a Tuesday, I set foot in Brussels for the very first time. I visited with friends in Ghent, Brugh, Westmalle. I snogged with a net buddy in a dingy, junk filled bar in Ghent in front of a roaring fire with long 2 x 4 planks sticking out of the hearth and spilling onto the floor. when the ends would burn off the proprietor would simply shove the planks further into the hearth. His eccentricity out shown our own. Michael got me drunk on a very interesting local liquor and we sat, me on his lap, his hands up my shirt, our lips and tongues meshed, in front of perplexed and amused locals for what seemed hours.
I stayed with a family in Amsterdam and so there were no midnight snogs in pubs, but there was heady days and nights spent roaming the best and worst areas of Amsterdam. For a long time afterward,I worked hard to ex-pat myself to the Netherlands. It is my favorite place in Europe. Alas, I never succeeded although I did have a few good interviews. And then...then I met the Primary and my desire to leave vanished, to be replaced by the desire to root myself here with him.
Today, if it's Tuesday, it must be Berkeley. And this is how it should be.
Adam is the perfect traveling companion. We have been friends for ten years and lovers off and on throughout that time. So sharing a hotel room with him, to save funds is never a chore. We give each other enough space to have separate itineraries, and yet it is a treasure to enjoy a museum in his company, or a dinner out and about. And conversation or even silence on a train trip is comfortable and easy to endure.
When I first met Adam we were at a cyber music conference at Stanford. I was bowled over by the intensity of his personality. It was at odds with his unassuming exterior. He looked like a nordic, Minnesota farm boy, but his eyes looked out upon the world with undisguised genius. I was fascinated and hooked from the moment I saw him. After a period of intense fascination I settled into an enduring friendship that was been a reward through many ups and downs. Can I just say, as much as I adore Adam, he's not a very adept lover. That could explain our more off than on again lover status. And that's fine with me. The friendship we have is more important to me than anything.
And now, on a Tuesday, after two weeks of tooling about Southern England visiting friends, we sip our cappuccino in Waterloo station and wait for our trains which depart within minutes of each other.
"Don't forget to visit the red light district when you get to Amsterdam," he reminds me.
"I won't. Do dance with Sufis for me and pinch plenty of ass while you are in Morocco," I tease him.
And late on a Tuesday, I set foot in Brussels for the very first time. I visited with friends in Ghent, Brugh, Westmalle. I snogged with a net buddy in a dingy, junk filled bar in Ghent in front of a roaring fire with long 2 x 4 planks sticking out of the hearth and spilling onto the floor. when the ends would burn off the proprietor would simply shove the planks further into the hearth. His eccentricity out shown our own. Michael got me drunk on a very interesting local liquor and we sat, me on his lap, his hands up my shirt, our lips and tongues meshed, in front of perplexed and amused locals for what seemed hours.
I stayed with a family in Amsterdam and so there were no midnight snogs in pubs, but there was heady days and nights spent roaming the best and worst areas of Amsterdam. For a long time afterward,I worked hard to ex-pat myself to the Netherlands. It is my favorite place in Europe. Alas, I never succeeded although I did have a few good interviews. And then...then I met the Primary and my desire to leave vanished, to be replaced by the desire to root myself here with him.
Today, if it's Tuesday, it must be Berkeley. And this is how it should be.
