However, south of the south of the Netherlands is another dividing line. It's called the Belgian border. The Belgians are often the butt of Dutch jokes (how many Belgians does it take to screw in a light bulb?) but I have a weak spot for them. Their accent is cute. And as long as you're not working with them, they are very nice people. Much more polite and considerate than the potato farmers in the north.
Last July I went to Gent (Ghent) to attend the 'Gentse Feesten', or Ghent Parties. The whole city centre is transformed into one big party ground, with stages and performances on literally every square. On invitation of one of my Belgian colleagues me and a mate of mine went down to Gent to see what the fuss was about and down a pint or two.
Arriving at the Gent Parties, I got VIP tickets to the Pole Pole stage (thanks Johan!) and took in the atmosphere. Gent is very beautiful, I have to admit I underestimated the place. Apart from the magnificent scenery, it was a real party. Real in the sense of a genuine party vibe going on, without any of the agressiveness and fake-heartedness that usually accompanies these kind of events in the north.
Flemish logic/humor on a sign indicating a handicapped parking spot: "If you take my parking spot, take my handicap as well!"
Even though I'd never want to live there, I can only say that the northern clay munchers have definately something to learn from our southern neighbours.
No comments:
Post a Comment