It is sundaymorning and I wake up in a lovely warm doublebed which I shared with Sura. (I realise that this is the dream of many a man – I can only apologise.) We get up and walk around in our PJs, her sister and her sister’s boyfriend are already in the kitchen. Her aunt drops off fresh croissants and bread for breakfast. Tea and coffees are made, we all sit down and reflect on the night before.
It was Sura’s last performance of her theater show – the reason I came over and I was glad to have made it after the small incident before. Though not completely smooth running (the projector died in the beginning and had to be replaced- poor Mrs Technician who seemed to die of panic trying to fix it.) the show was done well and very entertaining, I cannot really comment as I am biased!
Afterwards people decided to find a place for a drink and I learned you need to specify your drink by name here: ‘ just beer’ will just not do. On the subject of names: all the guys here seem to be named Tom. All of them. Antwerp was hip and happening on a Saturday night – the first pub was closed and the second and third alternatives where closed. I was assured this doesn’t usually happen. Of course.
In the end we ended up in a place, which had a beautifully flamboyant bartender: an older man who was ironically wearing wife-beaters vest with stars – the latter in combination with his behaviour indicated he wouldn’t be bothered too much with women in the first place. Belgium also hasn’t fully implemented the smoking ban yet, and even as a non-smoker I have to admit: the smoke it adds charm to little places like the one we were in.
After having found some chalk someone (Sura’s sister) decides to make rude pictures on the blackboard. This then evolved into full blown competitive pictionary. With timer. It is Tom and me vs Tom and Sura’s Sister. Our team is winning, which is a something close to a miracle as my team’s Tom isn’t exactly Van Gogh…(haha or I am just great at guessing;-)) In any case we win and that is the most important thing: of all the spirits flowing last night, the Olympic one wasn’t one of them!
The night ended with a nighttime cycle ride through Antwerp, such a shame you won’t remember how to get where the next morning, picking up great Belgian fries, eating them in the comfort of a family home.
Back at the breakfast table, we eat, chat more, listen to music, have more tea and I just listen to them talk Flemish which is just enjoyably different to my native Dutch.
It is one of those sundaymornings I would like to bottle to keep forever.