Gent One

We (Béatrice, Davide, Stéphane and, well, me) left yesterday at one, arrived way too late because of high tension lines, fog, and weird Belgian road indications. We met Sophie at Vooruit, she showed us where we'd sleep (and where we just slept), her charming mini loft just in Gand's centre, visited Vooruit (the place is gorgeous, and looks half like the Titanic, half like the administration building in Papy fait de la Resistance (heavy reference here). We picked up some flyers, left Sophie to a cheerful (or so it seemed) family reunion, then all headed for Brussels, where we had to tour the hip bars (meaning, the five bars around Place St Gerry) and deposit those damn flyers. We ate in a Thai place with a funny name, then began our tour, but I must admit I wasn't of great help on this precise task, because I felt a bit down and when I feel down I'm really super super shy (Béatrice and Davide handled the thing really well anyway). Now it's morning, I need some coffee, we're waiting for Stéphane to come out if the shower (which is two storeys upstairs) listening to "Wish" by The Cure (admittedly not their best work but I like the way the bass goes in "Letter To Elise") and we have a meeting with Eva at Vorruit at 2.30. The others should arrive with the minivan around 6.