a softer landing

Last night was dark and stormy, both inside and out. Easier to manage the rainstorms, especially since it was a warm rain.

I was struggling with my power issues, and couldn't let it go. Without the tablet, I have no email or phone. Were this 5 years ago, I could have gotten by at internet cafes, but those have largely disappeared owing to the ubiquity of wi-fi, even in remote places. It is now expected that you will have your own computer. While I like the idea of traveling off-line, it's not really practical when everyone is so connected.

So I managed to damage my adapter. I was in bed, just dozing off, and I got a bright idea that had me wide awake and rummaging around. Turns out electrical engineering is outside the scope of my skill set and my idea made some crackles and pops, with something black oozing from the adapter. This led me down an unpleasant path wherein I doubted just about all my decisions to date. I even threw in some career decisions, because at 12:30 am, when all seems to be going wrong, why not?

I woke in the same frame of mind, that no doubt colored my perspective on Bruges. It is a quaint town, with picturesque canals, incredible architecture, and very nice people. But this morning's crowds got to me, and this was one of those times when it was good that there was no one on whom to inflict my mood. I'm not very fond of touristy places in general. It's not Bruges' fault that they have such amazing treasures under their feet and over their heads, and I can't fault them for the way they have managed the continual onslaught of voyeurs. Still, it's not what I seek when I travel.

I spent some time in a surprisingly extensive computer store. They were unable to help me. The tech then suggested I contact Dell online. It took all my manners to politely ask how I was to do that without a powered computer. Sven then nicely allowed me to get online on one of their display Mac's. I had just started an online chat session with Dell, and a couple started hovering, inches from me. I was sweating, trying to respond quickly to the tech online, and knowing I was in the way of legitimate sales. The only good part was that while the couple was muttering-no they were outright talking about my hogging the one computer they wanted to try-i couldn't understand them. I was feeling that I was running out of options, so I stood there while they literally breathed down my neck. They must have complainedbecayse soon a salesperson approached. I pulled my Sven card, and he told me to take my time. All to no avail, Dell couldn't help me, at least not for some weeks. I had conceived of several back up options during the night, and so that salesperson ended up selling me their cheapest tablet. This one is configured for 220 volts, and with a converter, I'm back in business. It doesn't solve my power issue for my camera or iPod, but I have an idea for those that may work out.

About this time I realized I was getting a cold, and while none of this is really all that much to worry over, I decided it was time for a change of venue. So I retrieved my pack, and headed for the train station.

I'm back in Brussels and have found a delightfully right in the thick of things (this may mean a noisy night, but I don't mind), close to the metro station that takes me to the train. Today turned out to be some sort of festival, with parades and costumes, twisting narrow lanes packed with all manner of things, and while my cold is no better, I've recovered my equilibrium. Laundry done, euros in hand finally, and I'm staying put tomorrow too, so no need to put on my pack for a day.

People are really helpful at every turn. I was standing in the metro station in Brussels after buying a ticket, trying to figure out which train to take. None of the signs were in English, and I was wandering from one display to another looking for the magic words. An old man spoke to me in Dutch, and I answered in English, but I showed him on the map the stop I wanted. He said 3 or 4, and showed me which turnstile to enter. I saw him watching me out of the corner of his eye to see that I boarded the right train. He got off two stops before me and I hoped to catch his eye to say thank you, but he didn't look back.

A lot of French spoken here, some Dutch, and most know some English too. There are tourists from all over here, judging by the languages I'm hearing. It is impossible to guess anyone's nationality until they open their mouths. I've more than once thought that someone looked American, and then overheard French spoken between themselves. This sometimes creates a false sense of privacy. I stopped for a crepe and coffee earlier, and found that two men who had clearly just met were swappingtravel stories, in American English. But I had not spoken. They talked about the red light district of Amsterdam, and other entertaining stories, and I shamelessly eavesdropped.

And so ends another day, they slide by so fast already.