26 May

Today started out too well, with another large breakfast – juice, tea, milk, bread, croissant, roll, ham and cheese (and too many spreads to poke a spoon at). After I worked my way through as much as I could, I set off to visit Gent (or Ghent, depending upon where the speller comes from). The weather had been raining in the morning but had cleared up by the time I arrived at Ghent. Although there were parking spots clear, I decided to play it safe and use a parking station, in case I stopped in an area of restricted parking which wasn’t posted. The parking station had levels with colours, numbers and symbols! -2 was a orange carrot, -3 was a red rabbit and -4, where I was, was a blue fish.
I walked into the centre of the city and had a look around at the buildings, some churches (more of that later) and finally thought I needed a thrill so a look over a castle followed. I found I qualified for a seniors’ discount, so took it and then found … school excursions all over the castle – English, French, Dutch, German – I can’t get away from kids! However the castle was a good experience.
I decided rather than jade myself by staying too long, I would have a look at Brussels in the afternoon. On the way back to the car park, I came across another articulate beggar (why do they pick me? why can’t I get one who only speaks their native language?) who told me his father was a master chef on the ocean liners years ago and his son was on the streets.
It didn’t take too long to get there (less than an hour) and the trick was getting into a parking station, as the entrances to most were at odd angles. I eventually made it and had a look around, although I think I shall see if I can become a consultant to some and suggest easier ways for tourists to make their way around – there were so many holding different maps up in many different ways but all of them looking confused.
I found the main square, looked around there, had some lunch, went to photograph a statue and had to wait – a group of schoolchildren climbing all over it to be photographed there. Squirming, making rabbit ears, making others laugh at the wrong time – kids are the same everywhere. I had a look over a church (there are photos of it) and have some definite thoughts on such things.
There are churches which are closed – no problem, that’s their choice. There are churches which are completely open and you can walk nearly anywhere and take nearly any photos you want. There are others which are partially open and you can walk in some places and not others, and photograph some areas and not others. But there are some churches which are open and you can’t do anything except walk around a restricted area UNLESS you join a guided tour (at considerable cost), whereupon you can walk anywhere and photograph everything. The cynic in me goes back about two thousand years to another person who got upset about trading in the church and created a scene (almost the last scene done by choice). I prefer ones where there is a discreet sign saying that materials are available (and the cost) with a coin slot and a mention that the church does require funds for its upkeep.
After, I walked down a few streets lined with cafés and saw so many touts I couldn’t believe it. They must have thought I wasn’t a likely bet, but for others it was, “children eat free” or “our menus in all languages” even though everyone else’s were too.
I saw a great sign “Quality Travel Agency” – would one really advertise if one’s travel agency was no good (unless your name was Basil Fawlty)? Also, there were some police cars on one road and I am now starting to worry – not only the policemen are looking younger, but the senior officers are looking no older than my ex-year twelves!
The afternoon had nearly gone but light was still good, so I decided, on a whim, to go home through Ypres (liper). I got there in time to have a little look around, but also to see the Last Post played at the Menin Gate (as some school students take and lay a wreath – which made me so glad and proud that our students wear uniforms and so can look good for ceremonies). Here I spoke to an Australian couple from Essendon and a Dutch couple from Utrech. The ceremony went well, except for a burglar alarm which was loudly operating during the greater part of the Last Post.
After that it was driving back to my (temporary) home in the rain. Two observations: European roads do not drain water well and so trucks throw up huge amounts of spray and light cars slide everywhere as they aquaplane; drivers change speed quickly and are not consistent with their driving patterns in the rain.
Once back, I checked my email and my blood boiled: I had got a reply from TomTom about not being able to do anything with my faulty unit. The reply said that I should have spoken to the Help Line (except that only the stores have the number, and the salesman had to wait half an hour to get through – the Help Line wouldn’t let the salesman explain what trouble shooting had been done – there was no suggestion to put me straight onto the line) and that units must be returned to the store of purchase for returns, otherwise nothing can be done. I suppose this means the warranty on the unit I purchased in Denmark is worthless. I will attempt to resolve the problem when I return to Australia – through Harvey Norman and the Trade Practices Commission, but I, at the moment at least, have to retract my good words about TomTom and say that it appears to be useless to expect service from them when their units play up or won’t operate. Certainly in the future, if I did this sort of trip again, I would have to compromise and find a unit which does have a useful warranty, worldwide in truth instead of just advertising.
Now that my mind has settled (I sent them a reply refuting each point in turn, so will see what happens), I will finish this, process the photos and then, after posting them all, go to sleep.