a sprinkling of the white stuff

Beglam was cold (well, temps hovered around 4 deg C, so to say it was feezing would be an exaggeration); but by the time we'd reached central Germany last night, on a 17hr bus trip south, a few flakes of snow were drifting down, and it was -6 deg C in Linz (Austria). More of the stuff is falling outside the window now, here in Budapest, so with any luck we'll wake up to a picture-postcard dusting in the city. Going to the steaming hot baths tomorrow, with snow in the air, will be fun; getting in and out less so.

I managed to fit in a bit of kultur before departing Brussels, after meeting Sofie for a yummy garlic scampi and beer lunch near the central station. For that, we had to skirt around barbed wire obstacles and polis blockades (some big EU meeting, we suspect, rather than security precautions given my visit - the Beglams haven't had a government for 6 months now, since the last election resulted in deadlock, but the place seems to function nonetheless. We were heading for an exhibition entitled 'From Gilgamesh to Zenobia' in the Royal Museum of Art and History, one of those impressively monumental (and gloomy) 19th century grey-facaded buildings that probably took years to build and came in way over budget. It was a bit of a strange exhibit whose theme seemed to be 'Here's some ye olde things from Iraq... and some from Syria... and some from Iran, etc.' That said, several of the 2nd-3rd millennium pots were magnificent, and I quite liked the string curtains around each display case, which gave you a sense of intimacy with the objects when you pushed through into their semi-secluded space. The fact that they hadn't printed the book of the exhibit seemed rather inept - you could flick through proofs, and put your email down expressing interest for when it comes out.

My time in Ghent wasn't all beer and gassing either, although I did manage to talk for 105 min on Thurs night, without even contravening libel laws... well, not many. On Wed arvo I visited 15th century painting The Adoration of the Lamb by the van Eyck brothers in St Baaf's cathedral - apparently there are 40+ identifable plants in the central pasture scene, so it's no wonder it took two of them several years to complete.

I also forgot to remark on the fact that supermarkets in Beglam have bread slicers which customers can pop their loaves into. H&S madness! But apparently, Beglams are mature enough not to slice off their own limbs, or if they do, it's generally regarded to be their own stupid fault, so supermarkets don't get sued and everyone gets neatly cut bread. Whatever next...

The locals also seem remarkably trim, despite their apparent full-fat, luxurious diet. Maybe it's because so many of them smoke; Aurelie suggested that it's because they regard their junk food as snacks, rather than a main meal - suitably greasy for munchies at 5am after an extensive sampling of trappist concoctions (and she has young kids! I thought parents weren't allowed out after 1, nevermind 2 kids... not AM, but that too!). Or maybe it's all the cycling...

Hungarians carry more padding, but given the snow, my skinny frame can see the virtue of carrying a few extra pounds as insulation.