Monthly Archives: November 2016

First song on my phone as I put my earphones in and settle back—Mahmut Orhan & Sena Sener’s version of Self Control

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First song on my phone as I put my earphones in and settle back—Mahmut Orhan & Sena Sener’s version of Self Control, “oh the night is my world, city lights, painted girls”. I just wait for the UK Border officials to pull me out of the line of departing passengers at St Pancras now—a ritual feature of every return to London. Do I really look SO suspicious? Victimisation.

So my hoped-for cheap short little trip to Brussels at the end of October just to tide me over till the long trip to Vienna turned into an expensive 7-nighter

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So my hoped-for cheap, short little trip to Brussels at the end of October, just to tide me over till the long trip to Vienna, turned into an expensive 7-nighter, my longest ever stay in Brussels. My financial recovery will be delayed somewhat. I learned some new things—I MUST eat something for breakfast when on holiday; it transforms the whole day to come. I must force myself to spend a long time in Cine Paris. I must spend more time in Rue d’Aerschot, having now discovered the Retro Bar right at the end, and Red Devil just before that. I did feel I went further than before in Brussels this time—with Leyla, in Cine Paris and in Rue d’Aerschot. I hope I can break through to a deeper level in Vienna as well. Don’t hold back. Spend the money, break through to the other side.

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The Justice Palace really does loom over Brussels as your Eurostar pulls out of Midi

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The Justice Palace really does loom over Brussels as your Eurostar pulls out of Midi. It really feels like the symbol of Brussels. Justice Palaces being, for me of course, powerful symbols in themselves—not just of justice, but of corruption, moral corruption, decadence, judgementalism, the naked scales of justice of the universe, sin, morality. A painless enough check out and embarkation. My Saturday morning taxi was as cheap as it has ever been, 9,20, and he took me down a route no other taxi had taken me before—along Malines, down Anspach, down Laeken, Fontainas, back onto Anspach just before the Palais du Midi. Ironically it was raining last night, the one night I COULD have gone out as I was wide awake and sober, having spent all afternoon in Cine Paris. A grey Brussels morning; I expect rain before we reach the tunnel. Travelling home on a Saturday is so nice actually. I can get back to a nice peaceful London rather than weekday madness. A nice half-empty train.

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I think about cancelling the trip to Vienna

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I think about cancelling the trip to Vienna, but it would make such little difference—the hotel & travel money is already spent & is not refundable (a little bit of refund on the train tickets only)—so the only expense would be a little bit of spending money when there, and I can live very cheaply in Europe if I have to. Better to go and hope to have as delicious an experience as I did here in Brussels.

Guy Fawkes Day. I cannot be too down on myself for the money I have spent on this elongated Brussels trip

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Guy Fawkes Day. I cannot be too down on myself for the money I have spent on this elongated Brussels trip—it has been a wonderfully pornographic, erotic week, and that is precisely what I try to save my money in London for. Tuesday’s long stay in Rue d’Aerschot was deliciously exciting; Friday’s long stay in Cine Paris was deliciously exciting. My Tuesday night tryst with Leyla was deliciously exciting; if it went wrong after that it was only because I felt too emotional about her and that is not what I go to places like Fifth Avenue for. I go for a purely erotic sexual experience; when I start having feelings for them it all becomes confused.

My room stinks; because of my trousers sitting for 4½ hours on all those stinking disgusting Cine Paris seats

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My room stinks; because of my trousers, sitting for 4½ hours on all those stinking disgusting Cine Paris seats (although the Cine Paris is quite the cleanest & most luxurious porn kino I’ve ever been to, but still some filthy things go on there). My trousers need fumigating, or burning, when I get home. Hope no one sits next to me on the train home. Thank god it is Saturday so London should be relatively quiet when I get back as well.

So I stayed in the hotel 4 nights more than I was supposed to

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So I stayed in the hotel 4 nights more than I was supposed to—but that only cost me 52, 45, 45, 52 per night=194 euros, less than £170; less than 2 nights at work I can recoup that. So I went to Fifth Avenue more times than I would have done if I’d left on schedule Tuesday; again little more than 1 night at work to recoup that. Keep things in proportion. For me to WANT to extend my 3 nights to 7 nights means I enjoyed my trip. I really indulged in Rue d’Aerschot and Cine Paris more than before and got a LOT more erotic succour in return as a result. Some wonderful memories stored away from those two places, as well as Leyla, of course, one of the loveliest women I’ve met anywhere, let alone in a place like that.

I was supposed to go home Tuesday afternoon on a £25 Eurostar ticket

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I was supposed to go home Tuesday afternoon on a £25 Eurostar ticket. I then extended this to Thursday on a £16 coach ticket. Before finally extending it to Saturday morning and a £64 Eurostar ticket. But out of all that expenditure is there anything I can really look back on and think I shouldn’t have spent that? The three great extravagances were the 3 x 75 euros to take Inna and Leyla (twice) to the Fifth Avenue rooms, and I absolutely NEEDED to do that. If I hadn’t, on all three occurrences, I would have been cursing my missed opportunity and would have spent more money coming BACK to Brussels to put it right. This time I did everything I wanted and needed to do, so no need to come back for a long while. Apart from that I just paid 14 euros almost every day for Cine Paris, lots of beer but only in cheap places, no more than 1,60-1,80 for small beers every bar—and avoided all the rip-off places like Empire and the 10 euros small beers. I managed to avoid Empire all week, and am quite pleased about that. I DIDN’T go with any Rue d’Aerschot window girls which is absolutely remarkable given their astonishing beauty & sexiness. It was only my fidelity to Leyla, and wanting to save money for her, that kept me from doing anything in Rue d’Aerschot, so I would have spent the same money in Rue d’Aerschot if I hadn’t spent it in Fifth Avenue. No, I cannot regret anything—this is one of those trips where I really did EVERYTHING I wanted to do, and do not go home regretting any foolish abstentions.

Auto-Ecole was on upstairs with Premiere Orgie pour ma Femme

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Auto-Ecole was on upstairs with Premiere Orgie pour ma Femme—I just caught the first & last scenes of this one and both were very good indeed. Downstairs had a rather poor film that had been running for a couple of days, and Anissa & Lola à l’école d’infirmières, which also had a couple of absolutely fantastic scenes. Towards the end the film jammed, as luck would have it, as when this happens the manager puts in a completely new film—this one the very good Marc Dorcel airline film. By the time I left my cock was red raw and pretty numb. I didn’t get to the end of the airline film, and I would have liked to have watched Premiere Orgie again to see all the scenes I missed last time—in fact it is only 8:20; I do still have 2 hours to go back before they close! But no I cannot be bothered now. I am in that down, depressed, end of trip mood; depressed and subdued by the massive expenditure, so much more than I expected.

So finally my trip is almost at its end. Friday night in Brussels and I stay in my room

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So finally my trip is almost at its end. Friday night in Brussels and I stay in my room, in my big white bed listening to classical music on the radio, Clara. Let me keep my head down tonight, as my Eurostar leaves 730am in the morning. So no I did not get to the Wiertz Museum, sadly; instead I spent about 4½ hours in Cine Paris—the longest session in a porn kino I’ve had for years & years & years. I think the fact I knew this was my last chance to enjoy it before I go home, and that I had no money to do anything more than that, gave a keenness to my arousal. Films that would have had me walking out within 10 seconds normally kept me highly aroused this time. And if you invest a bit of time & effort into a porn film you can usually get into it—Auto Ecole which yesterday I walked out on as it was absolutely rubbish now really turned me on. The actresses I thought unattractive yesterday now turned me on immensely. It is all in your mind. You carry the weather with you. You carry the eroticism with you, depending on what mood you are in.

Lovely McDonald’s finished off with each subsequent beer I feel more like going back to Cine Paris after all

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Lovely McDonald’s finished off, with each subsequent beer I feel more like going back to Cine Paris after all, then early to bed perhaps. Pop into Fifth Avenue later? Or try to get some money from somewhere, and finally have one of the window girls? No, no more Rue d’Aerschot. Pop to Fifth early to try to send a message to Leyla I will not be there later, then back to bed early. Just starting my 5th beer and I am struggling with it. Think I really will be ready for bed soon.

Anyway this unexpectedly long stay in Brussels has cured me of Brussels for a while

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Anyway this unexpectedly long stay in Brussels has cured me of Brussels for a while; it will be a long time before I feel the NEED to come here again, I think. If I DO go for a midday McDonald’s, then I can relax later, and won’t need to rush back from wherever for Brussels Grill. As always, breakfast is the most important meal of the day when on holiday even more so than at home. 1139 On my third beer only. Very good. This is my 7th day in Brussels, my 7th day of all day drinking, and at no point can I say I have really felt I was suffering from a “hangover”. I go to bed early enough, and wake in early hours of morning and always feel OK really. My resistance to alcohol is so strong now—dangerously so. It means I am free to drink way too much; but it only barely affects me—on a conscious level anyway. The picture in the attic (of my liver) would not be a sight to see, however, I am sure.

By 1126 I have the Max lounge completely to myself

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By 1126 I have the Max lounge completely to myself; the early morning breakfasters & early check-outs all gone; soon the early arrivals will come, their rooms not ready for check in so they will start to fill the lounge. I should make it a condition of every trip I do one cultural thing during my stay; but of course the flesh is weak & willpower weaker. And let’s face it I go to the same cities and I have been to all their main art museums so many times already. If there is at least 1 treasure in a museum that means so much to me—such as Richard Gerstl’s Laughing Self-Portrait in the Belvedere, Vienna, or Die Sunde in Neue Pinakothek, Munich—I can do it (and so many in Brussels’ old Museum of Modern Art before it was destroyed). I’m starting to miss my McDonald’s Royal Cheese & fries; perhaps I should go for it after all. One more beer in my bag still to finish off though.

Having my second beer of the day here in the Max Lounge

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Having my second beer of the day here in the Max lounge; actually a rare event on this trip. I have done almost all my early drinking in my room—the lounge has been too full of people most of the time, and then I just don’t feel like it either. And the fact it is cold and all the sexy Brussels girls are so swaddled in their coats & scarves, it takes away some of the thrill of window viewing. But oh I am so sated of the same music videos on my two music channels in my room–-Cstar (French) and Viva (Austrian). Feel like I see the same 20 or 30 songs ad infinitum. That is the one thing I liked about the RFM TV channel in the Red Devil bar, a much greater mix of music. I will probably forego the 11am McDonald’s this morning, as no reason not to go for an early Brussels Grill or Domino’s Pizza or both and then back to bed early afternoon; then finally I might be able to go for that long-threatened nightcap in Empire.

I really do miss my old days of travelling when I used to do something cultural every day

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I really do miss my old days of travelling, when I used to do something cultural every day; it was the centrepiece around which the naughty things radiated. Nowadays I just relentlessly focus on the drinking & the porn & the whoring & whatever. My trips have lost something because of this. I have no desire to go back to Cine Paris today and see the same films again; no desire to go back up & along Rue d’Aerschot again, as stunningly beautiful & sexy as the girls are. No desire to go back to Fifth Avenue (no money either). So perfect opportunity to do something cultural—except my old beloved Museum of Modern Art (modern in the sense of 1789-1939 sort of range) was broken up, scandalously, years ago and replaced by a Magritte Museum instead—wall to wall nothing but Magritte for room after room is too much. The 6 or 8 or 10 Magrittes on show in the old Modern Art Museum was perfect. No doubt putting a Magritte Museum in the halls that used to house the Modern Art collection has been a massive cash cow for them, with the token Fin de Siècle Museum tagged on underneath it like an afterthought, with its ridiculously low ceilings & APPALLING lighting, but it has deprived us of so many of the great treasures of the Modern Art that I loved so much, the Paul Delvauxs uppermost amongst them. He does not fit into the FDS timeframe so that is it, hidden away in storage! It crosses my mind to finally go to —— and visit the Delvaux Museum, or Namur and finally visit the Rops Museum, but I cannot be bothered and I can scarcely afford the train fare or museum admission charges. I could go back to the Wiertz Museum after many many years. We will see.

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Christ Inna came in to Fifth Avenue last night like a ball of lightning

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Christ, Inna came in to Fifth Avenue last night like a ball of lightning; like the ball of fire in Tintin & the 7 Crystal Balls. Looking hot in that shock of black hair, black tight top exposing her midriff, black miniskirt & black stockings, a little pocket rocket; and from the moment she surged in & hung her coat up, she was taken to a room and I think one or more gentlemen kept her there for all the time I was there. At one point she came back down to get some drinks then was gone again.

Thank god one of my cards worked at least. That means the 55 euros in my pocket can all be for beer & food

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Thank god, one of my cards worked at least. That means the 55 euros in my pocket can all be for beer & food. Why is it that McDonald’s in Europe are SO much more tasty than ours in London? Royal Cheese is SO tasty. And restaurants in Europe are SO cheap compared to London. Brussels Grill steak, fries & little bit of salad (enough) plus 2 sauces last night (mayonnaise AND Garlic, complimentary as my choice of Bearnaise wasn’t available) all for 15,90?! Even with disastrous exchange rates post-Brexit that is still no more than £13! In London that would cost you £25-30 at least. This, too, is why I travel.

Oh the Brussels Grill steak last night was gorgeous

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Oh the Brussels Grill steak last night was gorgeous. Following the ruinous new management in the Berlin Plaza bar & the loss of the old gorgeous Knesepfanne, and the ruinous new management in Munich’s Rechthaler Hof (and much earlier closure of Lamm’s), it only has Vienna’s Café Westend for competition in the steak stakes, as it were. OK, let me try to charge tonight’s room to one of my cards. Fingers crossed, eyes closed.

I should perhaps pop into Fifth Avenue early

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I should perhaps pop into Fifth Avenue early, hoping to see one of Leyla’s Moroccan friends who can tell her I WON’T be coming tonight anymore after all, though I told her I would. Just in case she thought she would have at least 1 definite customer in me, and then sit there waiting for me to come in when I won’t. I feel sated with the naughty places, and rather horrified by how much money I have spent on these 7 days. Let me enjoy the pleasure of drink & food & sleep today, before my early departure Saturday morning.

I tell myself today I am NOT going to drink so I can go to a floozie and actually be able to FEEL something

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I tell myself today I am NOT going to drink, so I can go to a floozie and actually be able to FEEL something. But I know I cannot do it. I wouldn’t know how else to fill my time except drinking. And anyway I cannot afford any more floozies on this trip, so let this be a day of drinking & eating & sleeping only. Maybe finally that nightcap in Empire.

So a rapprochement with Leyla

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So a rapprochement with Leyla. I came back down the whole length of the Rue d’Aerschot without doing anything with anyone, as I knew I would; a last small beer in La Dernière Minute then back to Fifth Avenue. After my second visit to the toilet, I saw there she was sitting in the armchair at the back as usual. She was talking with two Moroccan men but when I got the chance I sat down next to her. Now, ironically, having booked my Eurostar for Saturday morning, I feel ready to return home Friday night after all. But presuming I can find enough credit on one of my cards to just cover tonight’s hotel charge (52 euros), I will have to stick with Brussels for one more day (with no money). This means I will have spent SEVEN nights in Brussels; I’ve never done that before. I knew my stay would take in Halloween, but I didn’t think I’d still be here by Guy Fawkes Day.

To see Leyla again would be amazing. I cannot deny it

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To see Leyla again would be amazing. I cannot deny it. Hahaha. You saw her yesterday and you ignored her for 45 minutes? An hour? Till she walked out. Yes. Sub-consciously I must have done this for a reason. I always seem to need this element of masochism in my relationships. Now—now—I want to see her, talk to her, be with her. I do not think I will ever see her again. Same as with Lucy, Adelina, et al. These girls are like clouds in the sky.

Better to stay in the erotic paradise of Brussels for as long as possible

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Better to stay in the erotic paradise of Brussels for as long as possible. Porn cinema, window girls of fabulous sexiness, and maybe even a beauty or two in Fifth Avenue. None of this is possible in London. The short stretch between Red Devil and Retro Bar actually seems the poorest stretch of the road; no one of any great interest. Just relax; stroll up & down the Rue d’Aerschot for as many hours as you like. Stay in the Retro or the Red Devil as long as you like. Back in the Red Devil. I don’t think I’m going to do anything in the windows, to be honest. My money is too tight, stretched to the absolute maximum, and I still sub-consciously know I have TWO more remote possibilities of seeing Leyla again; plus I still have to pay for my Friday night hotel.

Well, I’ve done it, booked a Eurostar SATURDAY morning instead of tomorrow which means I will be staying in the Max Friday night as well

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Well, I’ve done it, booked a Eurostar SATURDAY morning instead of tomorrow which means I will be staying in the Max Friday night as well (if I can find the money). This at least gives me TWO more chances to see Leyla. The Eurostar cost me just £64 (using the £20 voucher I had), a lot less than I feared. A nice lunchtime session in the Cine Paris to get me started, then straight up to Rue d’Aerschot. Usual stunning girls, but the two I liked most went with customers just before I got there. He who hesitates is lost (122 and one after Mirage). I had 4 beers at the hotel, 2 more in the Cine Paris, now on my 7th here in the Red Devil bar. They have best music channel & best toilets. I could go up & down the road looking in the windows all day & night. It is better than any porn film. It is already 2:50; I have passed the time well today, thanks to that long Cine Paris session. Let me have a long Retro Bar and Red Devil bar session at least, before chancing 5th. Hope tonight I can finally get awake in time to try Empire.

So today? I do not expect she will be at Fifth Avenue again

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So today? I do not expect she will be at Fifth Avenue again. Let me go to Rue d’Aerschot wildly drinking, see 1 or 2 girls, then come back & sleep really early. In bed by 3pm perhaps. Then I can wake 6pm and head out to 5th Avenue later. That will avoid the “repeating myself” deathtrap that ruined yesterday. And that is the thing, going up & down the Rue d’Aerschot like yesterday, planning to do something with 1 or 2 girls before returning to see Leyla at 5th, I found myself overwhelmed by sentimentality about Leyla, with feelings of LOYALTY and FIDELITY. I felt I had a fallen a little bit in love with her and I felt too honour-bound to be loyal to her to do anything with the window girls, as amazing as they were, so the whole day was a dead loss! Today with maudlin despair & self-loathing there is nothing to stop me doing what I want in Rue d’Aerschot. I never expect to see Leyla again. After this ruinously expensive holiday it will be next year till I can return to Brussels. After my first night with Lucy in 5th, I never saw her again. After my first night with Adelina in Manhattan in Vienna, I never saw her again. I don’t expect to ever see Leyla again. But to be brutal this disaster was probably a good thing. My terrible feeling of love & sentimentality for her yesterday was madness. This disaster was a vital & quick corrective. A quick snapping out of it & return to reality. I must admit, having come down from the bedroom with her Tuesday, I was in a daze of love & lust & desire for her. Her “sister” came up to me and just waved her hand in front of my eyes to snap me out of it. I was thinking to cancel my Vienna trip and come to Brussels instead; try to come to Brussels as soon as possible BEFORE the Vienna trip. Thank goodness this corrective disaster has brought me back to reality.

So I’ve done it again, extended my stay again. I will be staying in Brussels a 6th night

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So I’ve done it again, extended my stay again. I will be staying in Brussels a 6th night; don’t think I’ve ever stayed here for 6 nights before. I did not fancy that 2pm coach going home at all; I will now try to book a full price Eurostar ticket for Friday or Saturday; IF any of my cards still have any credit left. So yesterday was a disaster in the end. In my entire life, whenever I have had one of the great, high, magical nights like Wednesday, the next day I try to repeat it and it turns out to be a disaster. I always tell myself don’t repeat yourself. But what can you do, when going up & down Rue d’Aerschot was so exciting, and then arriving late at Fifth Avenue to see Leyla was so sexy, how could I not retrace my steps the next day? But as always repeating myself I do everything too soon, I am too excited, so I got to Rue d’Aerschot too early and got back to Fifth Avenue too early and Leyla had not arrived yet. She would not be arriving till 5, an hour or so ahead. I carried on drinking but when she arrived I did not even recognise her to be honest. Some girl came in and touched my arm as she passed, and it was the glimpse of white & black check shirt that made me realise it was her. She sat at the back and I made eye contact with her a couple of times as I came out of the toilets and we smiled at each other, but I still carried on sitting at the front of the bar and never said a word to her. After 40 minutes I just saw her leaving with her coat on and though I waited an hour or so hoping she would return, she never did. I left in somewhat of a daze, my mind scrambled. I had been waiting ALL DAY, with increasing excitement to see her again, and then never said a word to her. I stumbled back to Domino’s Pizza in a daze of grief & despair; so frazzled was I after finishing my pizza I went out for a Royal Cheese McDonald’s & large fries, which I could not even half-finish. Suddenly there was no question of going out later to Empire or Gascogne. All my sexual desire had just died. What a fool I was. But I honestly did not recognise this girl I saw in 5th Avenue yesterday; was it really the girl who blew my mind the night before? When things happen naturally & unexpectedly they are magical; as soon as you try to repeat yourself it becomes precise & all the magic dies.

149 Having a third Stella here in the Dome

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149 Having a third Stella here in the Dome; I find I am already becoming increasingly excited at the thought my return to Fifth Avenue is growing ever closer. This is why I travel. The beer goes down so much easier in the Rue D’Aerschot, and in Fifth Avenue, as I know I am right next to the half-naked floozies. How the proximity of a whore excites the blood of a man. A whole bar of them & whole road of them, even more so. So 205 already and still half my beer to finish here in the Dome. I am not behind yesterday at all, all of a sudden. Plus vite, monsieur, otherwise all the windows will be empty!

Yesterday was one of the great days at Fifth Avenue

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Yesterday was one of the great days at Fifth Avenue, to rank alongside South American Julia, Romanian Andrea, Dominican Republic Lucy. By the time I leave here it will probably be 140 and I’ll only be about one hour ahead of yesterday. The bright blue skies have clouded over and it looks maybe like it will rain soon, a little bit. Another 11am McDonald’s Royal Cheese & large fries this morning to serve as my breakfast; without that yesterday I don’t think I would even have met Leyla; I would only have eaten something and returned to my hotel to sleep it off. It sounds obvious, but I really must make sure I incorporate some breakfast into my travels every day without exception. It makes such a difference to how the whole rest of the day & night pans out. At home I can do without it, but on holiday it becomes even more important.

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It was good to spend some time in the 2 new bars yesterday

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It was good to spend some time in the 2 new bars yesterday—the Retro Bar right at the very end of the Rue d’Aerschot and the Red Devil bar a little further back. The Retro Bar barmaid was the pick of the bunch, tight black sweater, tight olive green trousers, like C—- used to wear; pretty brunette, and amazing arse in those tight green trousers. Red Devils bar quite the nicest of all the bars in the street, and quite the emptiest! But my god, there were some spectacular-looking girls in the windows on the way up; almost all the windows were empty on the way back! Saved me money at least. Today I think I will try to enter the street from the top end for a change, and START in the Retro Bar. It will produce a different dynamic; something different at least.