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Part
4: A
stranger in a strange place
an
exit sign saying centre, this is this where i need to go,
so i change lanes, and change lanes again, trying to follow
the centre that is moving in front of me. a tunnel, another
lane, and there i am, unceremoniously arriving at my destination,
crossing the line without even realizing it. but then i am
not there yet, the hardest part is still waiting out there,
the way through the labyrinth of an unknown city towards a
place you only know by a line on a paper. and so i drive on,
the wheel in one hand, the city map in the other hand, my
eyes scanning the road ahead for any hint where to go. a red
travel light gives me a break, i try to figure out where i
am, i have no real idea, i am in a long grey street that leads
from crossing to crossing. turn left here maybe? or not? toss
a coin maybe? follow the yellow car cause it looks like it
knows where it wants to go? another crossing, i turn right
for no apparent reason, another long chain of buildings made
of concrete and glass, is this really the city i want to be
in? this looks like bureaucrassels, this looks odd. i turn
right, zigaging my way through this maze, zigaging through
emotions that run from amusement to frustration to capitulation.
and then, out
of the blue, i am in front of a palace. a huge beautiful palace,
old, elegant, wise. i stop the car to say hello to Brussels,
i take a photo of this place, i turn the map in circles in
my hand while i count the sights that are numbered with red
triangles, i still have no idea where i am. a woman passes
by, i wave with the map, do my best lost foreigner, which
isn't hard in this situation. i can't help but smile as i
see how she turns the map in circles just like i did. blame
it on the map, blame it on the moon, blame it on the sun that
still blazes down, even though it is long past noon. the woman
finally finds us in between the white paper lines, turn left
and then right and then straight on, this sounds easy enough,
i know that it hardly will be as easy as this, but then there
always is hope, that is what keeps you afloat in moments like
this, hope and the excitement of being a stranger in a strange
place, hope and the sights along an unknown way. i pass a
statue, i see the top of a church, i am getting closer, i
go down a lane, i thank the God of traffic lights for giving
me another long red one, this is all i want at the moment,
this is all i need, a red light, and a crossing that comes
with street signs that tell me where i am, and it is there,
at the red triangle number three, at the Colonne du Congres,
that i finally find my self, that the map stops spinning,
that the points of the compass fall into place. just two more
crossings, and then i am in the right road, grinning like
Cheshire cat, and there it is, the hotel sign, i made it,
all alone, all the way, all through the miles of road and
road, i made the reference to get a residence.
Part 5: Is this just fantasy?
this
travelogue is part of the subside travelzine
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