And so where was I last night?

I was on the road, of course. After a full day's work I cleaned myself up and then set off to drive the 700kms to Brussels in Caliburn, towing the big trailer behind me. And I finally came to rest on the service area at Nivelles at about 03:00 - a 19-hour day (teachers, please take note).

And didn't I have an exciting time too? Nothing much happened until I crossed the Belgian border at Couvin. In the town itself there was probably a dozen or so officers from the "Flying Customs" having a meeting - in the middle of the road just round a sharp bend. And it was just like 10-pin bowling as they scattered all over the place as Caliburn and I came steaming around the corner. It's a long time since I've had such a laugh.

The chief of the Customs told me what he thought of me, and seeing as it was late and I was tired and my patience deteriorates the more tired that I am, I told him what I thought of him and his persons as well and we had a "frank exchange of views". 

Anyway so he p155ed off as I suggested that he did, and I drove to Charleroi where I fell into a police barrage. Everyone was being stopped and their papers checked and the like. I was asked if I had had an alcoholic drink and would I mind blowing into this bag (random checks are permissible here). I replied that if he found anything in my breath I would give him €5 and of course my money is perfectly safe.

Next morning we pushed (and I mean pushed) the Minerva onto the trailer and that's parked up at Bernard's house waiting for me to go and pick it up. After spending 2 hours discussing solar panels with 2 guys from the Congo (it's better than Nigeria I suppose) I did some shopping and then went to the flat where I half-loaded the van.

But you all missed the excitement there as well - and Terry would have loved this.
1) A van pulls into the private parking space of someone while it unloads some stuff
2) the owner of the private parking space pulls up behind and blocks them in - and then walks away
3) the owner of the van goes to fetch the President of the Conseil de Gerance
4) the President of the Conseil de Gerance accuses me of parking my van there (it's a small white Volkswagen we are talking about here by the way)
5) the owner of the car says that he is going to leave his car parked blocking this van in - and obstructing the passageway - all night
6) The President tells the owner of the car "yes, you do that - it'll serve these bastards in this van right"
7) The President and the car driver wander off arm-in-arm more or less, to the accompaniment of some ribald commentary from Yours Truly.
8) The woman from the next garage can't get her car into her garage
9) The man in the garage can't get his car out of his garage
10) The police are called.
11) Having stirred the pot by insulting everyone and everyone and calling them all names, I wander away.

Isn't life exciting in Brussels?

And now just for a change, I'm in a small hoted in Ghent. I've been for a walk around and I've had some chips and a vegetable kebab and I'm okay. Here I'll be staying until the morning.

It's a departure from the usual procedure, I know, but I just fancied doing something a little different. And why not?