When I was in Brussels, most mornings I would wake up to a pink sky. I guess there’s a reason as to why its one of my favorite things - “Aditi” means the dawn.
The sunrise.
Okay, so it also means "the Mother of the Gods" but that’s a whole other story.
(My mode of transport is a rooster.)
....
It also means happiness. Something that isn’t necessarily always synonymous to me.
It’s easy to say that this has been a bad year. I’d be hard pressed to find someone who hasn’t had some hardship. My issue is more-so with the fact that this past year has been an extension of last year. And the year before that. And the one before that.
I’ve been in Brussels now for two months and it has been great. I love Brussels. But, and I guess as is with every major city, it’s a bit tiring.
Or maybe... it’s not quite Brussels that brings this tiredness but rather everything that comes along with it: the social, the professional, the personal.
It adds up.
I love Brussels. It’s Belgium but it’s also really not.
It’s easier.
I think.
It's the melting pot persona. I’ve always had difficulties identifying as Belgian or Indian. Or where I can call home.
But not in Brussels. I don't have those same difficulties. I think I'm going to stay a while.
Anyway getting to the point. Why this whole spiel?
Well, I needed a break. Between the last time I wrote (which apparently was back in January) and now, a whole lot happened that I haven't been able to work through.
And, I realize that by writing all of this, openly stating how I've been feeling the last few years, that I am not actually as happy-go-lucky as I might seem, opens up a vulnerability.
But, I'm okay with that.
SO! I went to Sweden! I spent four nights in Stockholm, I deactivated my social media, I walked I don’t know how many kilometers and I ate. I also petted a lot of dogs.
Disclaimer: the actual review of my trip will be short. Because. Well. Literally all I did I just stated above.
........
Its fine you can deal with it. I don't mind. I'll tell a joke instead even though they apparently aren't appreciated.
Right. Stockholm.
That first day I actually accidentally ended up walking 16km. Because I cannot read maps. There. I said it. I’m a millennial who is map reading impaired. If you ever travel with me, you'll have the most detailed trip you go on, but you'll need to take over the reigns when we actually get there so we don't walk unnecessary distances. Or the wrong way. Or. Just. Yeah.
Basically what happened was I was walking across a bridge (maps told me to) to go to an island that would let me walk to that island with all the museums.
What I of course did not see was that part of that walk was a ferry ride. And. Right as I arrive at the ferry, it leaves.
SO. I retraced my steps, walked 3 different islands.
At least it was pretty.
I saw a boat! It was a big boat.
Because I felt as though I hadn't walked enough, I decided to keep going on that island. I saw the Abba museum! I could not bring myself to walk into the museum. Sorry Abba, I love your enthusiasm, but I couldn't.
I kept going until I saw a hill, and having recently gone bouldering for the first time I thought: YES.
It was.......... definitely not at all as difficult as the bouldering because, like most hills in nature where tourists frequent, there was a path.
But whatever.
The next day I thought I should walk a bit more. But having learned from the day before, I only walked 13km. It was an improvement. I saw more boats, more dogs, I ate a huge falafel. And meatballs. And a cinnamon roll.
The two days following, besides walking another reasonable set of kilometers, I decided to take it easy.
And then I flew back to Brussels where wonderful new lockdown measures awaited me. Loving this whole corona thing. If anyone wants to be the one person I'm allowed to hug the next six weeks, lemme know.
That’ll be it for this post. Keeping it short and sweet and honestly I’ve run out of inspiration.
Here’s a joke:
What do you call a pig that does karate?
A pork chop.
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