It all happened practically at light-speed, around this so-called ’Medieval Market’ on a certain weekend. A weekend when it was summer in Brussels – I mean, you could almost believe it, until and unless you went under a shadow.
I went down to the community garden next door, helped plant some tomatoes, received a basil to plant, harvested some red currants, and got the number of a certain architect who might just help me to make a crate so I can plant too.
I went to the park, and happened upon three people slacklining. I stopped.
’want to try?’
now what can one say to that? I did, after some hesitation. I went to this ’Medieval Market’ with them, met their friends (some local, some not quite), met some musicians* and other random people and generally had a great time both nights of the weekend.
Most of those people I haven’t seen since; some I have. With some others I have exchanged contacts, so I may, yet. (the next time I wonder if I should go to a festival or some such alone, please remind me of this.)
I also went to the concert of Yves and Anne, musician friends of mine – after which Anne casually asked me, ’would you like to come with us to a party at a friends’ place?’ I would; I did. On top of it, it was a thematic party where everyone could bring some kind of performance – guess what. The company? some musicians, a singer, a good couple of graphic artists, a performer of the completely mad type (but of the entertaining ones), and others…. until around 3AM. (the story when Yves and I tried to put my bike into his car’s back so that he could drive me home – having lost my way three times while going, I had no idea how to get home -, spent a good quarter of an hour as I messed up taking the front wheel off, then had to put it back when after another 20 minutes we realised it was absolutely impossible that it should fit in —- well, that could very well be another story, if it was not part of this one.)
Oh by the way, I still not speak any French.
*that was: “now is that an oud in your hand????”