Tu sais que ça ira...

All good things must come to an end. I am aware that this post seems abrupt, seeing as how I have neglected the blogosphere for a few weeks. The casual observer would certainly estimate that I have been too engaged in my pursuits here in Brussels to post. This is only partly correct: I have been engaged in pursuits both within the city's confines and abroad. Further exacerbating these conditions was a steadily declining availability of web access during the last few weeks of the program. Nevertheless, I will attempt to summarize some of the madness that has occurred in the past few weeks. Perhaps this summary will be divided into several posts, in an effort to create a series of retroactive facsimiles. I face a distinct challenge: The past few weeks have been so overwhelming that an account of their events will certainly neglect important details. Nevertheless, I press on with this effort, as I reiterate my statement that these posts will one day serve to enhance my self-awareness.

I left off in Bruges. That weekend was really an important one, as it proved to me that intercity travel was not only a possibility, but rather an exciting prospect to pursue during the coming weekends. Bruges was the tip of the iceberg! Once we had mastered the confusing destination/arrivals board at Centraalstation, we felt a sort of manifest destiny awaken within us. Our goal was not even constrained to the Benelux: we sought to go beyond! The U of Washington program organizers had planned an overnight excursion to Luxembourg to see the European Investment Bank and the European Court of Justice. It was in Luxembourg that me and a few others (namely Kyle, Ashley, Jill, and Kristina) discovered that we were a very unique group of travelers indeed. We established a tacit accord, a mutual agreement to which we were inextricably bound by nature of our impetuous thirst for adventure. In so many words:

1. No grumpy gills. This is to say, nobody is allowed to be grumpy. (see also Negative Nancy).
2. Collective European translation services. I speak French, Kyle, Ashley, and Kristina speak German, and Jill speaks Spanish. We all speak English, although we may never agree on the pronunciation of "bag".
3. Reasonable expenditures. We agreed to keep the budget below 1% of GDP (lol i'm an EU Studies dork)
4. Magical Crazy Event Discovery Powers. We all seem to have them.
5. Sleep is Irrelevant
6. If we visit a city, we must traverse it in its entirety, without a break (see Grumpy Gills).
7. Kristina has a GPS receiver somewhere in her brain. She points, we follow.

So with these important preconditions in mind, we arrived at the magical fairytale land of LUXEMBOURG. Those of you who are unaware, be informed: I LOVE LUXEMBOURG. For the sake of time, I won't delve into the detailed history of Luxembourg (I am the world's preeminent expert on the subject). Below is the highly abridged version.

The Story of Luxembourg

A few years after the dawn of time, extremely pleasant people with good taste in beer and cars took up settlement in a mountainous region. They couldn't agree on a language, so they decided to speak several. Included in this long list was their own made-up language--inherited from elves and squirrels--called Luxembourgish. (Yes, it exists.) They dug into the sides of their mountains and discovered caves, rendering their tiny town strangely defensible. Many years later, they constructed beautiful castles and churches. Disney princesses soon took up residence, and having no princes to marry, they sought men of noble character and stature to take their hands in fairytale marriage. In a great crash of thunder, the voice of God came down upon the people, and a crown descended from the heavens and rested itself upon the bravest and classiest individual in the town. Thusly, the coronation of the first Grand Duke of Luxembourg came to pass. He immediately engaged in a variety of Dukely activities, including swimming, water polo, tennis, and reading. Savage barbarians came to their town and attempted to pillage and plunder, but the Grand Duke knew the secret to quell their fury. He commissioned the wisest men of the town to devise a secret recipe: a brew so well-crafted it would instantly render its victim completely satiated. Thus, the magic of Bofferding was born.
The modern history of Luxembourg continues this proud tradition of rich, effete dudes courting hot babes in Lamborghinis. This story is of course not without conflict. In the 20th century, Hitler attempted in vain to stomp out the carousing of the Luxembourgers, as it was distracting his army from their mission of global conquest. Unfortunately, the Luxembourgers cried out with the glorious proclamation of a thousand gilded trumpets the motto that stays with them to this day: "We want to stay the way we are!" (this is the real motto of Luxembourg.) And Hitler could do nothing to stop the 27 well-mannered Luxembourgish soldiers from the indomitable defense of their mountain passes. Hitler later took Paris and decided it was nowhere near as charming as Luxembourg. To this day, the Grand Duke of Luxembourg rules with an iron fist and a fat wallet. Visitors to Luxembourg are welcomed with open cash registers and a hearty yet indecipherable greeting in Luxembourgish.


Alright, that tale really took it out of me. Expect an account of our adventures in Luxembourg, and perhaps some mention of our foray into the Bundesrepublik as well, in the next scintillating post. Aren't you glad I'm posting again?