Terrr-RAH... I’m off to activate my purpose.

After 9 years, 7 months, and almost three handfuls of days; two different companies, two sides of the channel, and 28 countries visited, I’m leaving my second home of Birmingham to return back to my first. 

I can also say that I probably have not consistently lived in Edmonton since 2002, which boosts those stats to 17 years minus 1 month and a total of 47 countries slept in during that period.  When did I get so old to be able to say “I did that almost 20 years ago!” 😱Especially when it still feels like I embarked on my travel journey only yesterday.  Oh wait, I seem to have forgotten the three years I went to University year circa 2006 - 2009. Well, "10 years ago" is certainly better.

I have been away almost as long as I have lived in my hometown, yet I’m inclined to still call Edmonton my home town. The concept of home to those who are nomadic is fascinating. I wrote about it several years ago, thinking that home is where your stuff is, and/ or, it is where your special someone resides, meaning that wherever you are in the world, you are “home” when you’re with those you love. I’ve been contemplating if I feel the need to revise that definition or not, especially with my stuff literally being shipped for an indefinite amount of time across the Atlantic. Even with the reunification of said stuff, I’ll likely be residing with family for a further indefinite amount of time, all surmounting to the feeling of constant nomadship for the foreseeable future. At least being in the proximity of my family, thus those who love me, allows me to feel at home in one sense of my definition. 

Nomadic in address and in life’s upcoming path, this is likely to be the first time in my life that I can’t say I know how I’m going to get to where I want to go. I have some pipe dreams I want to activate and a few concrete dates in the calendar, although I probably cannot reliably tell you what is on the agenda tomorrow. I will however, be releasing info on my adventure plans for you to follow and join as they arise. 

Axiom alert: For years and years I’ve lived the belief that details equal success, and that has served me to get me where I am today, yet having been shook to the core with the loss of Robin, I’m trying on the idea that doors will open so long as I remain so. Perhaps life is screaming at me to enjoy the journey and to get comfortable with being uncomfortable. I wonder if my basic need for certainty will override this program at some point in time?

Admitting to, by writing this (the uncertainty around my day to day and learning to be open to the journey) reminds me of my core ethics, which I have permanently etched on my being: to live a life of reason, full of purpose and self esteem. I guess that’s me looking for certainty already as a coping mechanism. I definitely have purpose in my life with my upcoming goals, and I’m full of the confidence that will be needed to execute them. It’s the reminder to be objective in the times I feel overwhelmed that I’m grasping as I write; as well, to use my senses and take in what is around me to be grateful and feed my sense purpose. 

In the meantime as I make my second attempt at a Kr-exit, I’d like to reflect and share a few things that I think makes England such a great and “interesting” (in the true, not “English” sense of the word) place to live. 

• It’s green! Not grey. Many lament about the dull sky, lacking in sunshine, however, without the moisture, the abundance of deep green, hedge-lined fields would not be so. You only need to drive a small way from the city to appreciate the vista of rolling hills; the vista that I regularly gaze out on to when sitting on one of the very many trains over the years. Any time I venture away, this green scene puts a smile on my face. Perhaps next time you’re feeling as grey as the sky, I’d invite you to shift your gaze a little and take a moment to appreciate the life you can actually see around you.

• The English. Here I mean the English who have been here for many, many generations. Those who on the surface live their unassuming daily lives, they get on with it, they don’t tend to rock the boat. But when given good reason (or excuse), do things with more gusto than the average alien passerby might expect. They go big! They are the Mums who have their bottle each of rosé on the dance floor when they have their annual night off a year; they are the Lads and Dads who swap their daily uniforms to don facepaint and fancy dress to support their teams; they are all the Folk who, when you give them a cause, will go to bat without question to support others, in charity, in community, in nation. I suppose what I love about the English is the element of a surprise factor leading to the extrapolated notion and reminder that one shouldn’t judge a book by its cover. 

• The People. Here I mean my people. My friends, colleagues, and special acquaintances I have met along the way. Some of you are English, others are people like me who have ventured to this island for some reasons of their own. People who have had and still have dreams and see the UK as a land of possibility. My friends, colleagues, and acquaintances who appreciate this land in which they live and use what it has to offer to move forward in life. Thank you my friends for enriching my life in ways that have helped to form who I am and the life I will create. Some of you I’ve know for almost 10 years, some less, and some who I will continue to value and connect with over the next 10 years because you have a special place in my life. 

With that I say “ta ra” (for now) to this green gem of a land. I’m not sure when I will be back, but I have a feeling that I will return, and in closing I’d like to leave you with a quote of what purpose means to me: 

“purpose serves to integrate all the other concerns of a man’s life. It establishes the hierarchy, the relative importance, of his values, it saves him from pointless inner conflicts, it permits him to enjoy life on a wide scale and to carry that enjoyment into any area open to his mind; whereas a man without a purpose is lost in chaos.” Ayn Rand

#Bruxelleslife Lessons- Matters of the Home

Bienvenue à Bruxelles-life or #bruxelleslife, which I think will be the slogan I will adopt during my time in this interesting land. It’s been just over my first 90-days and as usual, I apologize it has taken me longer to report my resettling than intended. Who thought that getting on a one-way train under the English Channel with your possessions arriving a week later, diving into what might be one of the world’s largest start-ups, training for a marathon, and navigating how things work in a city where you thought you could half-speak the language doesn’t leave you feeling like the last thing you want to do after assembling Ikea furniture for hours is write to your family and friends. Rather, I have a newfound understanding of how Bridget Jones ends up sleeping on the couch in her comfiest of pyjamas with an empty bottle of rosé on the table beside her; except in this mental picture you can exchange couch for cozy nest of a bed, bottle of rosé for a little bottle of Chouffe and imagine that I am pining for familiarity hence supplemented by binge watching inane American comedies #yuppielife

My travel buddy, Mr Mice, waiting to board the Eurostar

And trying to navigate at Gare du Midi

Okay perhaps a little bit dramatic for effect, but really, not far off. What I mean is, don’t feel sorry for me. Everything is so far so good. My new apartment feels like a home and Brussels has a great energy about it! So, let me tell you how I started off.

#Bruxelleslife lesson #1: Housing

Brussels is a melting pot of a city- diverse in nationalities, culture, and architecture, and when you’re wandering around trying to decide where you would like to rest your head at night, there are abodes to suit most. You can choose so uber-trendy that you’ll feel like an extra in a Sci-Fi series at where I like to call Futurama-corner hosting l’Homme de l’Atlantide (Man of Atlantis) and Apple. Alternatively, if you’re torn between epochs, then Boulevard de l’Empereur is the street for you where 12^th century meets the 21^st .

However, most of Brussels is Art Nouveau/ 50’s tile mash-up in style where ornate balconies lie next to exteriors channeling the design of the interior of a public swimming pool- I really mean the interior of the pool! I live on such a street and I live in the latter leaving me with massive balcony envy! Again, don’t feel sorry for me because it’s all about location, location, location. I’m living in the top floor of a simply tiled block, I have a quirky interior, a fantastic neighborhood and views of the balconies that I love.

Balcony envy across from my flat... and ps, behind that wooden door is an alley to a parking lot. and yes, people actually  park there... story for another time.

My less glamorous frontage circa 1950's swimming pool tiles.

Having spent a couple of days looking for places to live, I was drawn most strongly to where I am today and interestingly after unpacking my books one day, I’m just around the corner from where Audrey Hepburn was born (I’m a massive fan and have a lovely souvenir book of her life). Perhaps I was feeling the great creative energy of the area in which she developed into the woman she turned into.

Rue Keyenveld 2017

Rue Keyenveld 1930's

Looking for Tiffany's (which is around the corner)

#Bruxelleslife lesson #2: Bureaucracy

So once you find your potential abode, the process is similar to renting anywhere else: make an offer, ask for a discount, wait for the offer to be accepted, and sign your nine year contract. What?!?! Oh yes, so although Brussels seems like a normal Western city, it’s quirky. Belgians are quirky, and one day I will have enough material gathered to attest. In the meantime, I’ve signed my nine-year rental agreement with both parties knowing full well I’ll never last that long there and initiated the moving process. Essentially, the penalty fees are lower and you get more apartment for your money when you sign the long-term paperwork vs. a 1-yr or 3-yr option.

There are three more important steps in keeping unemployment levels down, I mean when moving, in Belgium.

1) ensure that the landlord has your name registered on the apartment buzzer to prove you are living there, because…

2) you must wait for the police to visit you at your new apartment to ensure you are legit so …

3) you can register at “the commune” (town hall, which is more like a neighborhood hall), pay a fee, and get an identity card.

This government wants to know who is where, and with the problems last year, I’m not surprised. Although, they say the real reason is to make sure that the services are appropriately distributed in the area, such as waste collection of ONLY the specific government-issued-for-purchase garbage bags. At least the service is twice weekly.

#Bruxelleslife lesson #3: Moving

Moving on to moving, and building on bureaucracy, of course there are some extra steps when moving in Brussels. Although I do mean that many of the Art Nouveau buildings come sans ascenseur so there are literally many steps to get your crap upstairs, I actually mean there are steps to avoid the steps.

In my first week in Brussels, I kept seeing these signs on the street- they look somewhat like no-parking signs, but people were still parking by the signs for the most part. Hmmmm??? Well, hmmmm until it was moving day! Apparently, these are no parking signs, usually in pairs, spaced about 30 meters apart. They say the days and times in which you are not to park between the signs to allow larger vehicles, such as moving trucks, to park when required; and in my case, to allow the two moving trucks for my stuff on my move-in date. But wait, I didn’t have two trucks worth of stuff? Ok, 50 pairs of shoes, but that only took two moving boxes.

So how do you get your belongings up three flights of narrow, winding stairs to your nest of an apartment? By using one of the trucks which as a lift and in through the windows- cool, hey?! Everything in the window… well, everything if I had one of the lovely balcony apartments with big French windows (yup, that’s what flat-envy sounds like). In my case, mostly everything came up the lift in through the window except of course the mattress and mastermind chair. After a few stair reps and hours of care and attention from the moving company, it was my turn to get to work and get unpacking.

I won’t bore you with the details of the several Ikea trips where the only foreign language I have managed to excel at is scandi-flat-pack; however, I can assure you though that my empty space is transformed into what is more than a showroom. 

Feeling comfy and cozy and with 85% of my nest complete, I have managed to get out more than a few times and see some sites of the city. I’ve also been back and forth to the USA, Turkey and the UK many times, and importantly have hosted my most special man. I’ll save the travel stories for another time; in the meantime, here are some pictorial reasons for you to come and visit! See you soon!

Atomium- one of Brussel’s most iconic structures apart from the peeing mannequin and the Grand Place. It was designed for Expo 58 and hosts exhibits within the atoms of the structure.

Parc du Cinquantenaire- one of my main running parks commemorating the 50^th anniversary of Belgian independence in 1880

Cafe culture= foodie heaven! So many cute cafes dotted around each neighborhood selling fantastic, trendy, quality food and drinks.