Wednesday, May 25, 2011

Home in Brussels

Before you know it we’ve all settled in to a routine, got adjusted to living in Brussels and actually feel as though we have a normal life. We’ve even managed to get into a passive aggressive argument with another member of our building through note placement on each other’s cars...that’s how Europeans do it apparently, being rude is a way of life for most of them. When we first moved in we paid for, in addition to the ridiculously high rent, a parking spot in the garage below our building. So after the second day of work Emily pulls into the garage and someone has already parked in our assigned space, thus the only space available just happens to be the one space that makes getting into and out of extremely difficult. We contacted our “Business Apartment” housing manager from “Home In Brussels” and told them of our situation. He responded and said that space #1 was available and that we could park there. Problem solved...for a month at least.

A month goes by, I play a little rugby with the Brussels Celtics, hurt myself, we take a few side trips, scope out places to eat and hangout, and everything is going fine and dandy, until Emily gets a note on her car the next morning before work saying “This is my spot, I have been renting it for over a year. How DARE you park in my spot. What were you thinking?” Emily shows me the note and I understand putting a note on someone’s car if that is indeed your spot and you have no idea who’s car it is; however, using that language if very uncalled for and borderlines on douchebaggery...or a typical European attitude when they don’t get their way. Emily tells me not to go talk to them, because they left their apartment number, especially since there was a good chance I would reflect the amount of cynicism they directed toward me in a more of an angry “I don’t have time for this child’s play” attitude. So Emily goes to work, comes back and someone is again in our assigned spot so she parks in Space #1 AGAIN...because I told her to. I mean why not...we’ve been there a month in accord with the property manager’s instructions. Apparently once you get a “business apartment” in Brussels, which, if you rent anything less than a year, some crazy Belgian real-estate laws make it almost impossible to rent from anyone other than a high priced “Business Apartment” rental company, the property mangers stop caring what happens. We were trying to call and e-mail about the parking situation but still nothing.

The same evening Emily returns downstairs to see where the note placer parked and they, of course, smugly backed their car right in front of Emily, so that she couldn’t get out. I’m glad we didn’t have to go anywhere. We finally got a reply back late that evening from the property manager telling us to report the car in our original spot to him so he could call the police. I asked him why this wasn’t a problem a month ago when it began, but no answer. We decided that we would put a note on his car telling him to park in his own space...#8, the almost impossible to get in and out of space, and if he failed to comply we would contact the police. We would also put a note on the douche bags car telling him the situation. So, I’m happy to report they left another note on Emily’s car the next morning saying it wasn’t a big deal, that they were never at their apartment anyways, that they traveled almost all the time. But that still makes me wonder, if it wasn’t a big deal, then why the harsh note?
Regardless, besides the parking situation Brussels is an amazing city. Brussels is a great place to visit other sites throughout Europe which is ideal for anyone wanting to do a European vacation and get in other cities as well. From Brussels you can take a train to London, Paris, and Amsterdam all under two hours away and many low cost airlines fly out of Brussels Charleroi to all over Europe...plus Belgium is the land of Beer, Chocolate, and the Mannekin Pis. Statues of little naked boys taking a piss are what make cities important you know.

Emily and I are venturing to Paris this weekend (send all hate mail to sancho@roadhusband.com so he can ignore you). Hopefully in Paris we can see all the sights including some beret wearing, skinny cigarette smoking, Frenchman being rude and snobby to us...wouldn’t be Paris without it.