Public Transport in Brussels

The cold here is unrelenting and devious, slinking into your socks when you are least expecting it and coming out of the folds of your sweater, you feel it between your fingers and it seems to seep out of the computer’s keyboard. I’ve started to layer like a bag lady and walk at a rate that is unnatural when compared to the length of my stubby legs. Neither solution is particularly effective.

I woke up yesterday, in my normal bedclothes of sweat pants, a sweatshirt, a hat, scarf and wool socks, it was pouring with ice/rain outside and I jumped in a warm shower. After wrapping myself up in layers in hopes of staying dry, I walked down the four flights of stairs to the street and started to make my way to work. It was about ten past eight in the morning, so the sun wouldn’t be up for about another hour, and even then the dim rays that can force themselves through the almost impenetrable cloud cover seem so tired from the effort, the morning light is never more than a dim reminder of what a sunrise could be.

We have interviews at work this week as Nicolo our finance director is moving to Paris with his ‘artist’ girlfriend, (she’s a singer/actor, and has been in some interesting African movies, all of which Nicolo has featured at Cineclub, the Eurodad sponsored movie club that he started.) so I had to be at work by nine, I should have had plenty of time.

As I walk down the steps onto the metro platform, I noticed that there were quite a few more people then normal. In Brussels, people don’t seem to have the same idea about “work hours” then the rest of the world, which is great for me when I meander into work at 10 AM, and I am not the last person to arrive, it is also good, because rush hour doesn’t exist, as no one seems to ever be in a hurry. Yesterday however, the platform was teaming with people and they all looked restless. It was before nine however, and I hadn’t had my cup of coffee yet, so I don’t think about it too much. The train comes, it is packed, but I manage to squeeze on, and we go. Well, we go for almost one stop before the train breaks down.

Yes, the metro broke down, and as I was in the last carriage when the doors were manually opened, I had to skirt along the edges of the inside of the tunnel for about 10 yards before I got to the station. Now, in most cities, I would think that after the train broke down and the subway was delayed, the staff would be a little apologetic or at least realize that people have somewhere to be. Not in Brussels, the metro staff decided that this is the PERFECT opportunity to check people’s tickets. Hundreds of people on the platform waiting for another train to come, late, unhappy, wet and clearly impatient are of course the best group of people to check for tickets.

Regardless to say it took me over an hour to get to work. I could have walked it in a shorter time, however the thought of trudging through the ice/rain made me think the wait was worth it.