They sell beer in the vending machines in Belgium. Besides the vending machines, took a boat ride along the canals of Brugge, tasted curry, ginger, and spice cake chocolates, watched a woman making bobbin lace, wandered the Comic Book museum, and visited the bizarre and oversized Palais de la Justice where we could see the Atomium from a distance. Belgian waffles—from-Belgium Belgian waffles—are pretty much one of the best things I have ever tasted. Saturday was the national holiday, and that morning, in Brugge, we followed the small-town parade of a brass band and the veterans color guard. As they walked past I could hear the metals on their uniforms clink and I wanted to be home celebrating my own country.
It felt good to be back in France. Monday morning, I started a two week sculpture workshop that the MJC is running in Jumièges, near Duclair (the small town where the MJC is located). It feels so odd that this is what I have ended up doing, but I have enjoyed myself yesterday and today. So far I have sculpted a snail shell and a dog, in addition to helping make home made French fries and setting up a tent. Today I got a sunburn on one arm as we sat around picnic tables for two hours eating lunch—melon, bread and jambon cru and butter, salads, then the homemade fries and bloody steaks, a round of camembert, dessert, then coffee and tea.
