Malkovich. Malkovich! Malkovich!!
A brief entry, as I obtain fleeting and coveted net access in the Schiphol airport.
Exploring Belgium has been a joy. Everything is immaculately green, blanketed in wildflowers, and has names that I can pronounce. A sharp contrast from my meanderings through The Netherlands, I seem to be instantly back to my Icelandic (and San Franciscan) tendencies of correctly assuming direction in this country. While my previous posting stops me from genuinely complaining about that permanent state of disorientation, it's nice to be back on track.
I'm not sure what's up with The Netherlands though. It's like the entire country has an inner-ear infection and can't make directional sense. It can't just be me.
I'm loving Belgium. I was a little sad to depart Brugge after such a brief stay, but my continued travels have been wonderful in their own right. There is a density to everything here - a solidity in the very surroundings, and a weight to every stone in every ancient structure. This only further pronounces my desire to explore as much of it as possible. I kinda want to touch everything too.
Well, here it is. Around the time I began orchestrating this trip, my sister discovered a tiny Belgian town bearing our last name - its exploration seemed a unique and worthwhile goal. Not sure when I'll be back in southeast Belgium again. Set deep in the countryside of the country's French half, it took some logistical coordination to actually find the place...
This is Wanlin's downtown, in as much as it has one. I encountered three humans, six dogs, lots of horses and one seemingly wayward sheep. Aside from a few dozen residences and a crumbling church, I found one closed grocer and one bar - which was seemingly shut down, with someone snoring loudly in a small trailer parked out front.
Oh, and a vending machine just outside the church that apparently dispenses selected agonies for pocket change:
I departed the little town with few questions answered, but filled with a sense of satisfaction. Imagine my compounded joy when, ten minutes drive towards Luxembourg, I encountered the following:
Friends, until you have witnessed your own surname lettered gargantually alongside an equally massive corporate logo, you have not known true glory.
In these lands, I am King.
gotta love the wanlin pizza hut pyramid! did you walk in and act like the owner or at least some pizza deity? demand a whale topped pizza...oh...right wrong country.
ReplyDeletekeep the photos coming they are absolutely amazing!
Matthew- this post was awesome! Thank you so much for posting the town of Wanlin. Ever since I found it on the map, I always wondered what it looked like....
ReplyDeleteAnd it is quite amazing to see our last name in such large writing. I would have been tempted to boast to people that they lived in our namesake :)
It was good chatting with you this morning!
Mmmm... whale pizza.
ReplyDeleteWhat a wonder it must be to eat a creature so much larger than yourself.
ReplyDeleteWhen you make it to Ireland, you should try to make it to Ennis for me. It's one place in Europe I have always wanted to get to.
ReplyDeleteThe photos are beautiful and I grow increasingly jealous of you every day.
Ennis is a big Irish city, and right in my intended path of travel. I may be able to fulfill this request. Gotta have some reason to leave that Jameson distillery.
ReplyDeleteIf I ever do this kind of trip again, maybe I'll just take a weekly poll and have other people decide where I end up each jump.
Athough that would almost certainly lead to my death. I love my creative friends.
I'd pay for your airfare into The Maw of Chaos!
ReplyDeleteit'd be perfect if the initials of the cities you visit make a sentence! we'd be hanging on to every word...
ReplyDeleteMaw of Chaos sounds pretty epic. Great photo opportunities.
ReplyDeleteI vote for less drastic places, like the countryside of Tuscany. I do like the idea of creating a sentence--or a poem--from your stops. Ah, we are a creative bunch with your time and money. Have fun!
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