Change of plans, part deux.
As I stated before, plans have a funny way of changing. The fucked up, sarcastic kind of funny.
I’m back now, having spent a week in Norway. Great fun and all, but if it were up to the Scandinavian Airline Something (SAS), I wouldn’t have gone at all. Someone seems to have forgotten to fill up the peanut jar because of all times, they had to go on strike 3 days before I was supposed to take off. It luckily only lasted 2 days.
I didn’t quite start packing until I got the all clear, because frankly I didn’t expect it to go through. It would’ve been all too typical to have to blow it off for some strike.
But hey, the direction was so nice to bend over and let the unions fuck them just in time for me to go still, so basically I’m whining over nothing.
It was great! Awesome! So cool to see all those people again! Norway is such a beautiful country. Every time I arrive back in Belgium I’m confronted with what crapholes most of our cities really are. Oh, well. In a while you get to love them, in a sad, fatalistic sort of way.
Good thing I only stayed for a week, though. I’d quickly grow too attached to the place and people. My hostess was charming as usual and once again, surprisingly tolerant about my lack of manners. Norwegians in general seem to put up with me fairly easily.
Already I want to go back. The place I stayed just feels like a home to me, and I often get the feeling I’m in the wrong place when I wake up in the morning.
So next time she and I will meet, will be around Rock Werchter, and she’ll get to see my friends (both of them!), and the best side of Belgium, which is its music festivals. And if that will turn out anything like it’s promising to be, this is going to be one of the best, if not the best edition ever.