Fourth Stella in the Dome. 316PM. After this, and one more, I reckon that will be 415PMish and perfect time to get my taxi to Midi, and get TWO lovely Panos baguettes for a change (if they’re still open). The thing about the Ibis Gare du Midi coming back into play is it also brings back into play L’Orient Express, and the lovely little chicken (etc) LATE NIGHT restaurant next to it. And a constant all day source of food from the station (and NEWSPAPERS!). Yes, suddenly the thought of staying in the Ibis again has excited me about a quick return to Brussels (which I cannot possibly afford, but never mind). Just to feel the excitement, the eagerness, is a thrill in itself. Anticipation is everything. Anticipation is the fuel that keeps me going. If I really feel like it, I could forego one more Stella here in the Dome and walk to Fifth for a last 3 euro Maes; just to check the place out one last time. Little enthusiasm for it though. Does anybody record their travels, and their imminent homeward journey, as meticulously minute by minute as me? No, and yes why bother? I can almost hear my ex-wife saying. Always a great force for bringing me back down to earth and bursting my little bubbles. Bless her.
Third Stella here in the Dome. 242PM. Pink Last to Know (Berlin circa 2003-4). Brollies are up but blowing inside out; no visible sign of rain, but a bitter Arctic wind (I can imagine). What little rain there is, equally cold (I am sure). My visit to Le Coin on my fourth day has reinvigorated my faith in Brussels the way the previous 3 days’ visits to Fifth had rather killed it;; so why then on my leaving day don’t I return to Le Coin and “do” something? No, I never want to have sexual relations on my home day; it completely knocks me out and leaves me weepy and emotional. Wanda Bussi Baby (Vienna c.2016). Amy MacDonald Run (recent). Mando Diao Sweet Wet Dreams (recent). Nazar/Falco Zwischen Zeit und Raum (Vienna c.2016). Mavi Phoenix Longtime (recent). I don’t want to do anything sexual on my home day, one reason I sub-consciously really recoil from it is because it is your life-force isn’t it. I need all my life-force just to get me through the long, tiring journey home with my heavy bag. Avoid sex, and avoid any heavy food too. Drink at least gives me that high that gives wind beneath my wings for a while.
Zoe Adieu. Rihanna Love on the Brain. Again, reward for doing something DIFFERENT? By taking that long walk down to Le Coin yesterday I have revolutionised my future trips to Brussels (perhaps). The old Gare du Midi nexus suddenly regains pre-eminence over the Max Nexus. More than anything I look forward to getting back to the good honest butt-naked knickerless strippers of London. Topless only strip clubs are an abomination, and I take them as a personal insult. Joe Dassin Et Si tu n’existais pas. That song I only heard in Empire’s topless only strip club here in Brussels.