Highlights of this trip? None, really. Just that brief moment Mariana opened her door and bent down to talk to me and her pendulous bosoms so nearly fell out of her long orange dress. Hopefully this will be enough to keep me away from Brussels until my end of year Vienna trip. Indeed, as soon as I get home, book the Vienna trip now! Far in advance hopefully I can guarantee my favourite hotel, and at cheap prices. 3 months to wait? You think I can?
Would be good if I could RESIST returning to Brussels until my end of year Vienna trip, to enable me to save up a pot of money for that, as that is a more expensive journey. My boredom in London can be relieved if I do take out storage space and use my days off to start moving my stuff into there. I do wonder if it was my anxiety to start this that stopped me from feeling in the mood for anything while in Brussels. And maybe even my craving to have my own little nest again; completely alone.
I cannot help thinking as soon as I get home I will be seeing if I can get some more Snap tickets to come back again. What a pleasure it is if you can get two seats to yourself. What a difference it makes. To be able to get a £50 return Eurostar ticket to Brussels (or Paris) at short notice is amazing. Bravo Eurostar. To think my train left St Pancras at 304 Monday afternoon and I was in my hotel room at 640 exactly, which allowing for the hour time difference is a journey time of 2 hours 36 minutes from St Pancras to my hotel room—not bad is it? And that includes rush hour Brussels traffic! And my hotel room is just 41,28 euros a night; even with the disastrous post-Brexit exchange rate that is still just £37 a night in my favourite hotel! How can one NOT keep coming back to Brussels?
So yes a strangely muted and pointless trip to Brussels; but sitting in the Max lounge for one last Red Bull and beer, I felt sad to be leaving. On my return I would like to check out that “steampunk” bar by the Bourse, and the Palais d’Egmont “deconstruction” by street artists, and of course the Rue de Livourne at night. I would like to see Inna again in Fifth Avenue, and Mariana again in Rue d’Aerschot. The two Cine Paris films last night were a bit dull, Prison and Brigitte du Boi; I couldn’t even get an erection. Always a bad sign when you can’t get an erection in a porn cinema. There was a young man and woman behind the counter with the manager and I thought oh no, don’t say I’ve missed a live show because she is gorgeous! But it turned out they were the cleaners just about to get started. When I think they are there for sex, they turn out to be cleaners; when I think they are cleaners, they turn out to be offering sex. The girl, however, was so cute, pretty much the sexiest thing I’d seen on the whole trip. When I went back for a second beer the manager was not there, so she shyly hurried behind the counter and served me herself, with a sexy shy smile. It was her I was thinking about when I woke this morning.
So my epic walk across Brussels turned into an epic failure, as I think we all knew it would. After Cine Paris till closing time, I found Club L’Intime easy enough. Small bar, 2 girls, champagne 30 euros, private dance 50 euros, private moment 1 hour 200 euros. Then I headed towards Grand Place looking for Reves Table Dance. I never found it. The streets around Grand Place are an absolute warren; like entering the Minotaur’s maze. Turning left & right, backward & forwards, retracing my steps over & over, I was by now already hot and sweating, and hungry, so I gave up; grabbed a McDonald’s then bed. Rue de Livourne can be my mission for next time, but I will stick to my original plan—go the long way around but stick to the big straight roads—straight along Boulevard du Jardin Botanique then straight down the Rue Royale to Justice Palace, then straight down Avenue Louise to Rue de Livourne. Trying to cut through the centre of Brussels was always going to end in disaster.
Well I have never had a taxi driver get me back to Gare du Midi so fast. If you’re ever in a rush to catch your train he’s the man to call; he drove like a Dervish. A Somalian Dervish. Less than 10 minutes and we were there. But, here’s the thing, it was the most expensive taxi ride to Midi I’ve ever had. 16,70 and we were not held up in traffic. I noticed when I got in the taxi the fare already stood out 5,70; is that right? I didn’t say anything. I was too scared. I let him take 18 and bid him a good day. Who knows, maybe there is a higher tariff on Thursday mornings.
Yes, so, the “northern route” to Berlin I think is over for me. I see no reason to ever go back there, now Stuttgarter Platz’s golden age is over. So the only route that remains is the “southern route”—Brussels to Munich to Vienna. Second beer gone. 925pm. I expect nothing from Intime or the Reves or the Livourne places, except real rip off expensive hostess bars, a fortune just to buy a girl a drink. Another reason why Fifth Avenue is so wonderful (despite the sad dearth of quality girls); if you want to buy a girl a drink it is normal prices, same for them as for you. Munich died for me when they put private dances up from 25 euros to 50 euros, whenever that happened. And it is funny how it is uniform across every club you go to—in every club it was 25, now in every club it’s 50. It is almost like the city government sets the price for private dances—is that the case? Part of the licencing stipulations (stripulations)? If one club was allowed to undercut the others they would do roaring trade but they do not. One can only presume they are not allowed to. A far cry from the glory days back in 2003, 2004, when Patricia let me get my man out and put some kitchen roll over her breasts to catch the result. Don’t think that kind of thing would happen now. The emasculation-sterilisation-castration of old male Europe continues. The human race will die out eventually; that is the end result of damming up men’s juices in this way. Kind of like where they burn books they will eventually burn people. Where they ban masturbation/pornography/stripclubs they will ban sex. Then the feminazis and the Islamists will be happy. For god’s sake Europe, stand up for your old Priapic rights! One fears it is too late, the tide is already irreversible.