However, the one nice thing about traveling to Brussels is that that I didn't need to jet-set, rather I was able to stay on ground and take a train. It was only an hour and a half train ride from London, and I much prefer train travel over airplanes.
Since I had already been to Belgium last semester and loved it, I didn't put Brussels very high on my list to visit for this semester. I figure that with only a few months left abroad, I should see countries that I have never seen before, or revisit places from the far past, not visit the same countries from last semester. But my friends and I didn't really care about visiting Brussels at all, we just had to go there for the weekend because we were interested in the world's largest concert/rave called Sensation White. Europe offers this concert every season, and every season they pick a different European city. This past winter it was in Copenhagen, but because I didn't have any friends interested in this type of concert and since I was able to visit Copenhagen anyway, I didn't fly in for Sensation White's winter concert. And although my friends and I cared nothing about Brussels, I decided that since it was less than a two hour train ride and since I knew people who were flying in all the way from America for this concert, I decided to purchase a ticket and celebrate life at Sensation White.
Upon meeting up with my friend Kate and her other friends from her study abroad program in Florence, we decided to see what Brussels nightlife had to offer. Except little did we know that our hotel was situated in the ghetto of Brussels. As soon as we walked outside, I got an uneasy feeling, especially since every single car stopped to shout out cat-calls from their car windows. Ewww. There is nothing worse than a European male cat-call, as there is nothing worse than a whistler from down the street trying to grab your attention. After living in Europe for some time, I am used to that now, but in Brussels, it was ten times worse than I have ever experienced. I mean, what did these guys think that whistling would do? It only made us disgusted and feel uneasy, not run over and jump into their arms. So rather than walk to the safer parts of Brussels, we hailed a cab to get away from the cat-callers and whistlers. And while out and about in the normal, safer/less ghetto parts of Brussels, we had fun....except for this random girl who threw up bunny ears behind my head...
Who does that?
But after being out for just a little, we decided to call it quits and rest up for the more important night that was taking place the next day because after all, that was the reason why we were even in Brussels in the first place. After a good nights sleep, we checked out of our hotel and took a taxi to a different hotel. This time it was outside of the ghetto and it made me feel much safer to be in a place where I didn't need to clench my purse to my side...
At first we were just going to walk with our bags to the new place, but some guys on the street warned us that it was dangerous to walk in these neighborhoods with purses. He then went on to say that we would all probably get mugged if we continued to walk down those streets with our bags around our shoulders. Fearing for our lives (as well as our possessions), we called for a taxi. And thanks to the advice, we all made it safe and sound to our new hostel. And this hostel was a much better location. It was inside the city center and far away from the ghetto. I mean, the hotel that we stayed in the first night was fine and I felt safe, it was just in a pretty shady location. And I would have even stayed there a second night, however, it was entirely booked up for Saturday because everyone was in town for Sensation White. At first we didn't even have a hostel booked for Saturday night because the concert went from 9 pm until 7 am and it actually took place in Hasselt, about an hour train ride outside of Brussels. The first train to Brussels didn't leave until 7:01 am that Sunday morning, so we thought 'why pay for a hotel room when we aren't even going to be there?' But then we remembered that we had luggage and that we would be exhausted the next morning and would want to crash on a bed, so rather than finding a hiding place for our suitcases, we splurged on a hostel room for the night.
After checking into our new hostel, we decided to walk around the nicer parts of Brussels before getting ready to go to Sensation White in Hasselt. And even though we were technically in the nice part of the city center, it still looked a bit disheveled, poor, and sad. We eventually found a few cute streets in Brussels, but they were very few and far in between, unlike any other European city I've visited this year. Everywhere I've gone in the past I've been amazed by each city's beauty, but Brussels had very little charm to offer. Here are a few cute streets that we had to search for:
Here we are standing under the Belgian flag.
And here we are being obnoxious and taking pictures with the crowns that we bought to wear for Sensation White. After such a fine purchase from Claire's, we put the tiara's on our heads and forgot that we were wearing them and just assumed that everyone in Brussels was rude for pointing and staring at us. We then realized why.
I don't mean to be harsh, but even the most beautiful places in Brussels were nothing special compared to the other cities I've visited within the year so I was not upset that we had to cut our time short exploring to go get ready for Sensation White.
Now, raves have never really been 'my scene', but I thought that since I was so close to Brussels and since my friends were going, that I would be jealous if I didn't get to experience Sensation White firsthand. I have some non-rave type friends who attended Sensation White last semester and they thought it was amazing. So I decided to give it a shot although the last rave type thing I went to, EDC (Electronic Daisy Carnival) in Los Angeles, was not anything I wanted to experience again. But Sensation White seemed much cooler. The theme: "celebrate the night, dress in white", and lucky for me, I bought a white mustache shirt in Madrid in order to be allowed into the rave.
Accompanied by my mustache shirt, I got a pair of white tennis shoes and white shorts in order to follow the rules and celebrate the night in white. But let's just say that I didn't start this rave off on the right foot. Now, my friends and I are not the "let's go to a rave so that we can do drugs" kind of people, and rave or no rave, you would never catch us doing that kind of thing. Some people go to raves and do drugs to "really experience the rave". Now, I don't get it, but I guess some people feel the need. The reason I went to this rave other than the fact that it was a two hour train ride from London to Brussels: to dance all night. However, that plan was quickly ruined as soon as I stepped foot in the arena. Running into the highly talked about Sensation White concert with much excitement, I twisted my ankle on the damp floor, giving my foot its own little heartbeat. The joke of the night: while everyone else at the concert was rolling on ecstasy, I was rolling on my ankle. But to be honest, I would rather have it that way than the other.
So from the very beginning of the night, my foot was in excruciating pain. But I didn't come all that way and buy a ticket for the concert just to sit out on the dance and elevate my ankle. So rather than sit for the entire night, I decided to put on a good face, dance it off, and deal with the throbbing in the morning. And I did.
Here we are getting ready for the concert in our hotel.
Waiting at the train station in Brussels to get to Hasselt.
The mustache shirt.
There were some interesting people who attended Sensation White. Check out the background.
Thousands of people all dressed in white.
Where's Waldo?
SENSATION WHITE!
In all, I had a lot of fun. Would I do it again? Probably not. Let's just say it's a one in a lifetime type of thing, but I am glad that I was able to experience it firsthand, even with a rolled ankle.
At about 4 am, my friend Kate and I were getting tired and were ready to leave the concert. Problem: the first train back to Brussels from Hasselt didn't go until 7:01 am. Trying to stay awake for three more hours, we finally made it until 7 in the morning, got on our train, and slept for the hour ride back to Brussels. And we didn't waste anytime to get to our hostel. We hailed down a cab right away, and got straight back into bed until the 11 am checkout time.
So with only a few hours of sleep, we were woken up by the cleaning service telling us that we had to leave our room. Throwing all of our clothes in our suitcases, we were down in the lobby within five minutes in time to checkout without getting charged a late fee. After some lunch and a few advil to help my ankle, we were back at the hotel in order to get a taxi to take us to the train station to head back to London. The front desk called us a taxi, and when the taxi man got there, we jumped inside directing him to take us straight to the train station so we would have plenty of time to check in and such. (International trains are as hectic as going to the airport. You need to go through passport control, security, etc.) After riding in the taxi for just one short minute, everything seemed perfectly fine and dandy...but little did we know what was to come.
After a few minutes of driving, our taxi driver asked us if any of us spoke any french. My friend, having took only one year of it in 9th grade, said she spoke very, very little French, but that she would try because he didn't speak much English. But because she hasn't spoken any french in the past 6 years, she was unable to fully comprehend what he was saying and told him that she couldn't understand. And that's when it began. All of the sudden he started screaming obscenities for no other reason than the fact that we didn't know how to speak french. Asking him to pull the car over very politely in English, he pressed harder on the gas pedal, scaring us half to death by speeding down the narrow streets. Now begging and shouting for him to let us out on the street (it was a very busy street so we could just catch another cab with a sane driver), he sped down random little alleyways until he let us out in the middle of nowhere where he knew we would not be able to find another taxi. Confused at what had just happened, I wrote down the guy's license plate number because you better believe that if someone treats me and my friends like that, I will report them to the authorities.
After dropping us off in the middle of nowhere, throwing our bags in the middle of the street, and throwing trash at my friend, the taxi driver drove off while flipping us the bird. More confused then ever, I stood in the street stunned at what had just happened. Here we were, three young girls (one with trash thrown at her), in the middle of the street in the ghetto of Brussels, speaking no french, and of course, my ankle not allowing me to walk normally. But just my luck, we had to walk a while to find a place where we could get another taxi. Eventually, we found a hotel, had them call us a new taxi, and when I was speaking to the front desk, I reported our previous crazy taxi driver.
Looking back, I guess I should have been able to tell that this man was not fully safe. When getting in the taxi, I noticed that he had two black eyes, but me being the person that I am, always like to give people the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was the victim. Maybe he was mugged and is a good guy. But from now on, I am never stepping foot into a taxi if the driver has two black eyes, because after experiencing such an act, I now know that it means that the person is insane.
But anyway, our other taxi came and picked us up and took us to the train station with no problems and no obscenities. At that point I was just SO happy to be getting out of Belgium and back to England. On the two hour train ride, I slept the entire time and propped my ankle up so the throbbing would cease.
Finally getting back to Exeter, I went to the health center that Monday morning only to find out that they see people by appointment only and that their next earliest opening was for the following day. What student health center only sees people by appointment? Unable to get my ankle checked, I waited until the next day to have it looked at.
Luckily for me, it is only a minor sprain and will be better within 3-4 weeks...just in time to walk around and explore Europe when my parents come to visit! The nurse wrapped my ankle and gave me pain pills all of which have helped my sprain tremendously. This is a picture of it a few days ago and it has already gone down a lot since then.
I know that I am a little behind on my blog posts, but these past few weeks have been insanely busy with Sensation White, crazy taxi drivers, spanish exams, english papers, and a class field trip to Stratford (I went last weekend - that is my next blog post). So stay tuned on my adventures and I promise to have my Stratford adventures posted by the end of this week!
No comments:
Post a Comment