Chapter 14
In the Centre Once More, as Well as in the Low Countries
In times long passed I had been telling once that I was going to the centre when it was still Moscow for the eastern part of Europe. Now for me and together with me for almost all Hungarians it was meant to be Brussels, the administrative core of the EU – in those ancient times it was still only the Common Market. Joining the EU was expected at the end of 2003, later it was postponed to 1 May 2004. I still needed my passport – with my old fashioned ID it would be the case even after the entry date.
The flight from Budapest to Brussels took only a little less than two hours. I grew tired of flying, I didn’t find anything exciting in it as I did before. I think, it was the instant when I became much more environment-friendly and an opponent of civil aviation. Perhaps it could be made worse by the circumstance that the weather was terrible, it rained and I didn’t have a glimpse of the landscape during the time of flying. In town I found the hostel easily, and in spite of the rainy weather I went walking. This afternoon and during the next day I explored the historical city centre, the EU headquarters and also visited the surroundings where the remainder of the 1958 Brussels World Expo, the Atomium stood. I also had to find the railway station from where I would travel to Amsterdam.
There were some better periods in the weather, even I could take off my raincoat sometimes. I liked the vast rectangular square best, the core of the old town. Of course I found the little statue Mannequin pis. This large square reminded me of the centre of the old town of Warsaw, but, of course, it was in a much better condition. There was one particular house among the buildings around the square, that attracted my attention. It goes without saying, I covered almost all these distances by foot, underground or tram was needed only, when I knew that there would be nothing worth seeing on route, or it wasn’t the first time I travelled it.
Food in that town was excellent, I remembered M. Poirot from films and novels. He had never enjoyed English food, but always craved for Belgian one. Actually I ate Italian food, but the Belgian cakes were beyond expression. So were chocolate products, and that would be proved also by the members of my family later. Only I had the impression that life in Brussels must have been about twice as expensive as it was in New York.
According to schedule I caught the train to Amsterdam. I enjoyed the ride as the countryside was beautiful fresh green. However, you could almost tell where you were by sight, in Belgium or in Holland. Belgian towns and villages were very orderly as if designed by architects and drawn by ruler. Dutch villages however were rich in living things, cows, sheep poultry. They didn’t look as designed by plans, much more made by practice. There was a certain German-ness in that countryside.
Alas, I didn’t have time to have a look in the harbour in Amsterdam, where I left the train. I knew already what suburban train to catch for the exhibition centre. The place and number of our booth have been known to me and I found it. It was deserted, not yet built ready, and no traces of T. or his companions. Soon it changed, T. saw me idling there and called on me. We began to offload the company car. Building of the booth went on and in the afternoon we could arrange our things. Even our compatriots arrived one-by-one after the almost 1,400 km highway trip. In Amsterdam the weather was fine and we went to see the place where we had our rooms.
It was an extremely nice little hotel, but it could provide all we needed. My room was one of a suite of two rooms with a common bathroom. The other room was occupied by S. However, we didn’t see each other very often as he spent his time with other company managers from Hungary, while T., his wife and Maria, as well as I, kept together. That evening as there was still time till dinner we went to see the harbour nearby. I have seen similar things only in Warnemünde during my first visit in the GDR, but those were toys in comparison with these vehicles. It all looked as we had been there during the 1930s. I could not have enough of the sight of those beautiful old ships. Some even had complete fore-and-aft rigging.
The hotel itself was situated on the side of a canal, from my room I looked out on it. At the side of the hotel building there was a drawbridge with chains to open it when a barge was to pass. Such fine engineering work I saw only in the corridors of the Budapest Technical University as exhibits from the previous (I mean 19th) century. The hotel’s dining room was large and we took breakfast as well as dinner there. Along the corridors all the walls were covered with tableaus depicting the utilization of wood from willow trees. Young sticks are used for wicker products. When they are thicker twigs they make good furniture, armchairs, tables, even beds. Big branches produce fine clogs, and the Dutch are famous for them. From the Hungarian group almost all bought one pair. When I wandered around the building with one of the company managers – and one of the first Hungarian masters of cleaning – we found something from our past: a bicycle equipped with the machine of an errant grinder. Last time I saw such a thing in the ‘50s.
The exhibition itself was a great experience and a profitable event. Beside idling most of the time in our booth – it brought me back memories about exhibitions in the Budapest Trade Fair every spring during my air brake executive days in the ‘80s – and appeasing the curiosity of visitors I also tried to see as much of that as possible. I mentioned already the manager of a cleaning company, T.B., by first name a namesake of my boss, we made good friends and appreciated each other. It was he who regularly came to the booth after settling his official tasks and asked me to come and see around the vast hall. I collected some small items with ads written on them, a toy truck, balls, etc. We had long discussions with representatives of manufacturers of cleaning products, both from countries left and right to the former iron curtain.
Evenings, when the exhibition closed its gates, everyone went after his or her interests. We all four drove out to the actual seaside on the outer shore, then crossed the long dam marking the northern border of Markermeer. In the last evening the hotel personnel made us a small celebration as our leaving coincided with a local illustrious day. They performed singing and drew everyone into dance (almost, as they wouldn’t succeed with me) and then all guests had to give an account of him- or herself. It was really interesting.
The next day we took the ordeal of taking our things apart and packing into the company car. When at about noon the three of them drove off I rode to the railway station and caught a train to Brussels. There the weather was already dry and I had one more day to explore the town. I bought a small piece of the famous Brussels lace for every female member of the family together with a box of cakes and another box of chocolates. My grandson got a small statuette of the pissing boy. The homeward flight has been my last one so far and I think I will never fly again.