The Trip from Munich to Brussels

You’d think I’d know better that I can’t do what I did 40 years ago which was go city to city overnight by train, sightseeing during the day, then taking a night train to the next city.



After the Escape Room in Munich, we took a taxi to the Munich Train Station to catch a train to Cologne where we had to switch trains to go to Brussels at 2 in the morning!

Well, this overnight ordeal was a nightmare – no babies, but a couple that got on at 3 AM and decided to have a proper dinner and a lot of chatting (though in subdued tones). Then around 3:30 this lady gets on with a ton of bags and drops one. The one had alcohol which made the whole train reek when it broke. Then all she could say was “Scheiße” many times and left it on the carpeted train with all the stuff oozing out. Smelled like red wine.

Limo and sightseeing.

So, fairly unrefreshed, we met our limo driver Benoit who was really nice.

The only problem I had was that though there are old buildings and monuments, Brussels is not a city to ooh or aah over. Don’t get me wrong, it was not bad, just not impressive like Vienna or Paris for example. I could give you a tour of Vienna that could knock your socks off. Or maybe not – since I made most of the facts up to suit me.  It could have also been that I had not researched Brussels and that we didn't really have a proper tour guide.

One of the cools things we saw was the Atomium, created for the 1958 Brussels World's Fair (Expo 58).  Link to Wikipedia.

And here is something I wanted to have Rose do:

On the original site, I wrote that I wish she had done it with 2 hands, though probably many other idiots had done it.  My best friend Peter told me WERE OTHER IDIOTS who had done it and sent me a picture proving this.  It was when Peter and I went to Brussels just before I left for Canada. 

Though I have no pics, I want to document our 1981 trip for posterity. 

Peter was participating in a hair dressing tournament. I do NOT know the details, so don't know how he did.  I was more interested in his models.  They were NOT interested in me.  In any case, a couple of things I remember was that Peter's car was towed because he had parked in front of the hotel in a tow-away zone when there was a market.  I remember him standing on the bed looking out the window at 5 or 6 in the morning almost crying because his car was gone.  We had to get it out of the impound lot.

I also remember Peter driving me to Frankfurt (he was living in south Germany at the time) and both of us crying as I departed on a one-way trip to Canada. 

My flight was on Pakistani Airways to New York because it was the cheapest.  It was also the smelliest since most folks brought their own food, but I made it.

I'm also going to tell the full story of going back to Canada here. 

I went to Austria in 1970, at age 12.  I was glad to go because I was being bullied at school in Canada.  The plan was me to spend 3 years in Austria to learn "culture."  I was also glad to go because I detested my father and he was not in the plans originally.  I loved my grandmother (Omi) and I was going to be with her and her new husband.  However, when I got to Austria, I found out my father had sold anything he could and run away from Canada.  Run away because he had a lot of debt (which is ultimately why he never went back and died in Austria in 2000 or so.)  I had kept needling him to go back to Canada for years and he never caved, always giving excuses like the economy was so bad and that he had a great job.  I wanted to go back because Austria was a backwater for computers, nevertheless, I got in at IBM (via a friend's mom who knew IBM's general director) and after 2 months internship, got a reference from them and was hired as a programmer after a brief interview. 

After a year of programming, I worked 3 jobs simultaneously and saved up for the flight, $1000 in U.S. cash, and a stash left with my Omi in case I needed funds for an emergency return, however, I never used it for that because I got a job in 3 days and the rest is history except...

I hated Canada - Canada is not the U.S.  My first intro to Canada was at the border.  I looked like a bum (because I had spent 2 weeks with Peter in Germany and Belgium) and had not shaved.  I had all my belongings in a large canvas bag with a padlock.  The customs guy asked why I was coming back to Canada after being away for all those years and I said I wanted to come back to "my" country.  He asked what I had in the bag and I told him "all my worldly possessions."  He asked me to unlock it, which I did and then the asshole turned it upside down and dumped it.  Of course I had a shitload of dirty clothes and other crap.  He looked at it and then said, "You can go."  Of course, he didn't pack it back, so that was left to me. 

Then, I got off the bus in Toronto at 9 AM on September 23rd, 1981 and a wicked blast of arctic air almost knocked me over.  My thought was "I came to the wrong fucking country!"

I never felt I fit in.  I'm not Canadian (except by naturalization), not English, not French, nor was I Austrian.  Canada tends to segregate its nationalities.  Not so much at work, but in personal life.  In addition, it was fucking cold.  I finally moved across the street from work and because of that, I was always on call.  There was no telecommuting and one night, during a blizzard, I was called in.  It took me 10 minutes to cross the street through 7 foot snowdrifts to get to work.  The company I was with had just opened a location in Atlanta and I begged them to transfer me.  They did and got me my green card.  That was 1984 and I have been here since then and loving it. 

In 2020, I became a U.S. Citizen and I have never ever regretted coming here.  As weird as Americans are, they are more welcoming or at least to me they were and still are.  I guess I'm an American now too!