Sunday, March 17, 2013

There's a sign up just outside here ...

... So-and-so has applied for a licence to erect a scaffolding on the pavement outside his house for a month. The licence has been granted subject to the payment of the licence fee, VAT and other associated taxes. Underneath is another notice "Commune of Ixelles - tax on the occupation of tha pavement, so many Euros. This is in addition to any other charge or tax levied by the city".

Yes, I'm back in Belgium again aren't I? Where everything is taxed to the hilt and where they even invent taxes in order to nail the inhabitants. Stopping off at the big "Carrefour" at Waterloo, my shopping bill for a week came to €32:00, quite a far cry from my usual €18:00 or so. Paying €2:49 for four tomatoes is killing me when I can buy them for €0:99 per kilo. It's frightening.

At least the drive up here was good. With almost nothing in my way I made a steady 79kph all-inclusive (including a diesel stop at Auxerre) through the night as far as a little layby that I know underneath the wind turbines near the 6-way roundabout (Liz and Terry know where this is) and there I crashed out. Feet in the sleeves of the fleece again worked wonders and the quilt that I recovered from a batch of clothing heading to the dechetterie is superb. Here next morning and I even found a parking place straight off. That's not something that happens every day either.

Through the week though, we've been recording radio programmes and the like, I've built a kind of internal hallway at Cécile's where one passes from the house into the workshop - there was no door there and we were frezzing but now that I've finished, there's a difference of 11°C either side of the wall and the house now is starting to feel warmer.

I've even managed to start to fit the plasterboard on the xall of my bathroom, as well as spending several hours in what is rapidly changing from my residential accommodation into my man-cave.

I'm here for a week or so this time, but who knows what the future might hold?

1 comment:

  1. Back in your man cave? You need to start dressing like Fred Flintstone if you want a real man-cave.