Parle vou?

My now husband then boyfriend and I were in Europe for 3 weeks and stayed in Belgium for 2 days. Belgium sucked butt because 1. Flemish is like french, most people speak french but when you ask with your American accent, “Cafe?” they act like you are speaking in some click type language from sub-Saharan Africa called Khoisan. 2. There is NO decimal point in their money. Example: when we were there in the mid nineties the exchange was about $2.72 dollars to every 250 francs. Everything cost about $5768 francs so you needed a calculator (well, I did) to figure out how much anything was. Also, everything was very expensive. Quell drag.

We did stay at this charming townhouse type hotel and the owner/manager had an adorable black pug and a black and white spotted cat named “Joli” which means pretty in English. I can’t remember the pugs name. The cat was very friendly and liked guests at the hotel. She would stand in front of my door and meow until we let her in. She would walk around, sniff our clothes and then lie on the bed and silently request a bit of a scratch and we would oblige her. After her brief bout of affection she would jump down and saunter off. On the morning we were checking out she came and did her thing and then left but stood outside of door looking at me. I called to her, “Ssspppssss here kitty, sweetie darling, come here, come here….come on….” and she just stood there. Finally the owner guy walked by and spied me talking to the cat who wore a strange tilted expression on her face. He looked at me and said, “um, she speaks Flemish. I don’t think she understands what you are saying.” and then walked away.

FOR GOSHS SAKE. Duh. Hello, remember you are in a foreign country…no one in any shop has spoken English to you so why on earth would the freakin cat?

This was my dumb American in Europe moment.

When we went over to Holland and visited Amsterdam we enjoyed ourselves so much more. EVERYONE speaks English to some degree and at the time they did not hate us as a country so it was extremely pleasant and easy. Their exchange rate was much more favorable and easier to understand. An added bonus to the beauty of the country itself was their lovely money which at the time had Van Gogh’s sunflowers on it in yellows, oranges and greens. Tres joli. (I can’t say it in Dutch). We stayed at the most quaint and cheap hotel in a giant rowhouse in the Red Light district. The house faced a canal and cliched looking troll type bridge. Below us housed a prostitute displayed in a red lit window. Everyday while walking out into the District to sight see around the beautiful city we had to walk over the troll bridge and past a LIVE SEX SHOW theater. Outside the theater next to the display windows of various dildos stood a well dressed man in a suit and conservative trench coat who was hawking his show. He spoke many languages and we were lucky he spoke English because everyday we walked past he would look at me and say with a twinkle of delight in his eyes, “Oh, American, Big Schlongs for the ladies!” What a fabulous pitch. I think we would have partaken of the live 5 person legal orgy but it cost about $75 dollars US per person and they was too much for our budget. I felt so special he was thinking of my sexual well being. Those Dutch people are so friendly!

You have to respect a country that has free bicycles, legal pot and legal sex trade. They have their priorities straight. All Belgium really had going for it was chocolate, waffles and a cute cat.