The New Roof

When we bought the house in October 2007 An and I had a long term aim to replace the flat roof with a pitched one and to also replace the windows in the entire house.  No small measures here then, the two projects combined would be around 50,000 euros.

I do not really have much to compare this with when it comes to the UK.  I once bought a set of UPVC double glazing back in 1995, that was 5 windows and 1 door and it cost £1500, the fitting and quality was poor and I paid up front for it.  In Belgium we bought 7 aluminium windows, a garage door and a front door.  One of those windows is a sliding door that is about 3 metres wide.  The whole lot cost 16,000 euros and we paid something like four months after fitting, no deposit or any form of security.  It was quite worrying not being asked for any money.  They waited until the last few bits were complete before sending the bill.  Mind you they did make their money.  We also got tax back, it is part of the incentive to become more energy efficient.

The roof, however, was a far more taxing affair to deal with.  We had to secure borrowing and to do that we needed to hire a solicitor and go through a broker, it was just like getting a mortgage.  More importantly we had to get an architect in to do the plans and give us advice.

We held a meeting once we had identified a suitable architect, he was recommended although I am not sure why.  During the meeting we discussed a number of crucial objectives such as: timing of how long it would take, planning permission, fees and overall cost of the project.  All of our discussions were utterly pointless, whatever we said it was either ignored or agreed with and later ignored.  As an example, I stated that the cost of the project should come in at no more than 25,000 euros and I asked if this was possible.  What the architect should have said is no, what he did say was oh yes it will come in at around that price.  The architect's fees eventually were about 4,000 euros, this is a ridiculous 20% of the cost of the project.  We did not know this at the time and have learnt our lesson, but 9% is a more common figure.  The legal costs were around 1500, but that related to the borrowing being arranged.  I cannot remember how much the planning permission cost but this was another screw up by our architect.

When our plans were submitted the architect did not take pictures of the surrounding area or highlight that of the estate of around 100 houses, almost 25 had pitched roofs.  So amazingly enough the planning authority in Leuven said we could not build our roof as it was not in keeping with the local area and in addition we could not have solar panels (something we were considering).  Our neighbour directly across form us, less than 30 metres away has a pitched roof, so why were we being declined?  The neighbour next to her had solar panels on her garage roof and the houses in the surrounding area had stacks of them, another strange decision.  Anyway I ended up marking up each house on the estate with a pitched roof and then took it to the architect and said just show them that.  This he did and we got our permission (still without the solar panels).  I must add at this point that when we called into the town hall for advice, the quality would vary depending upon who you spoke to and indeed what time of day it was.  It seems to be a common trait that you don't generally get the same answer twice and therefore my instinct is not to trust what I have been told.  In fact the best thing to do is to get them to write it down and sign it off, they then backtrack and make sure they have it right!

The next phase was getting the quotes from the builders, again we held a raft of meetings with several builders to outline our requirements.  Any quote takes two weeks to produce and bears no resemblance to any discussions that you may have held with the contractor.  I have no idea if this is the case with UK builders.  In my experience I have known people to be able to estimate there and then not to wait for two weeks.  What inevitably happens is they forget what you have discussed and then have to go for another two weeks whilst they re-do the quote.  There is a silver lining to this cloud, which I will get to. The quotes varied wildly between each builder and of course each was using the best quality and construction techniques.  We discussed them with the architect and he advised us on the various offers.  Eventually we chose one, which was around 19,000 euros but did not do everything that we wanted.  In essence it would be a shell with no plasterboard or electrics installed.  It also did not include the brickwork for the gable ends, we had to get a separate quote for that.  More of that later.

The timing was all shot to bits, this was due to weather and workload of the builder as well as the delays with the plans having to be submitted again.  The original timeline was for the work to take place in Jul but in the event it was late August.  I had taken time off work to be there and for most of the construction I was not there, more delays.  The work took around 3 weeks to complete and I had to harass the builder to turn up once the gable ends had gone up.  It was like having two large unstable sails on the house and the flat roof had been compromised.

The gables ends took about a week to put up and I humped brick and blocks from the ground up a rather rickety lift and onto the roof, whilst our brickie did the work.  We did not benefit financially from that, the price was fixed, something that has both advantages and disadvantages.  The good thing is that it is never more unless you significantly change the requirement and even then it is reasonable.  It can, however, end up far too much if it has been overestimated.  This happened with the tiling in the bathroom which took around half as long as he expected, we got ripped off here and we made our displeasure known.  It was an extremely hot August and toiling with these bricks in the sun was quite something.  I have to say the view from the top was also quite impressive.

I had to go back to work for the next phase so I missed the joy of seeing it go up.  The roof is made of a wooden construction with essentially 4 triangles running the length of the house.  The first triangle is the one form the ridge of the roof to the sides of the house, the big one.  Two are one each from each side going in maybe a metre.  This way you have no supporting structures spanning the main space and getting in the way.  The last one was along the ridge and connecting each side together.  I have drawn a rather crude diagram below.


Now the thing that most people dread is when the builder starts to deny all knowledge that you had agreed to do a particular bit of work and that it was included in the price.  In our case in involved the removal and disposal of the roofing felt and the installation of a floor.  Thankfully we had a written and signed contract that included both of these things and they duly carried out the work without fuss.  The architect earned some of his money by being on hand and carrying out inspections.  I have to say in this respect he was very good.  He made sure the floor was of a decent thickness and questioned and changed their construction when needed.

The things that needed to be changed were:

• Insulation in the gables, it needed to be thicker (more cost).
• The floor needed to be thickened up (more cost).

When we got the final bill it was very reasonable, the additional costs were no more than around 100 euros.  If this was the UK then who knows what the costs would have been.  I must stress that I have not had any relative experience of UK builders and their pricing techniques!

We ended up with a 5 x 7m space, my man cave.  The loft was insulated but not fitted out for electrics or with plasterboard.  I will do a separate blog on that one as it was some effort to do that.  We had a loft with three windows and one hole in the floor for the stairs when they were installed, again another time with that one.

Once again the lessons from this are get a written and signed contract, get quotes (including more than one architect) and then make sure they do the work they have signed up for.  The loft is a great space and it was not long before An was eyeing it up for alternative uses...

Photos to follow.

The Wedding Anniversary

On Friday the 24th May An and I had been married for 5 years, we celebrated by heading to the restaurant where we got engaged and then later had our wedding reception.  The Gelofte is a very special if small restaurant located in Aarschot.  When I first started coming over to Belgium the price of a meal here was quite reasonable given the excellent quality of the food and service.  Of all of the places I have eaten in Belgium, this has to be the best and it easily beats any food I have had in the UK.

With this sort of quality, however, you need to pay the price and now it is somewhat more expensive than it used to be, so much so that we really cannot afford to eat there as often as we would like.

This time round both An and I walked to the restaurant so we could both enjoy a drink.  There was a fixed menu which was 45 euros per person, not including any drinks but I wanted to go for something on the main menu which meant paying a bit more.  For starters An had a crab salad with apple, cucumber and radish.  I had duck liver with pear balls and sauce.  The description does not really do it justice.  The duck liver was similar to foie gras, but with a consistency that was a little firmer and a lovely baked crust.  It was, without any doubt, the best starter I have ever had.  I cannot stress how exquisite this was.  Our mains were rood baars, (I think this is red snapper but I am not sure) for An and  lambs fillet with ratatouille and mustard sauce for me.  Again this was very good.  For dessert An had strawberries with a rhubarb sauce and special ice cream and I had a Dame Blanche.  We had a glass of champagne each, some water and between us 5 glasses of red and white wine.  In all it was an experience rather than just a meal out.  The cost of the meal was 203 euros for the two of us.  There were entrees as well before and after the starter.  The first was something similar to prawn crackers but made from squid and quinoa with a  mushroom mousse.  The second was made with a St Jacobs escallop with beetroot and cauliflower.

The restaurant details can be found at the link here, along with details of the menu (although this has now changed since Friday!)

If ever you happen to be going by then I would strongly recommend you check it out. 

Trenches

After coming back from my tour in Iraq I was lucky enough to have about two months of leave, which was great.  I spent some of it getting fit, whilst at the same time eating lots of leftover wedding cake.  It was around mid Feb when I returned and I was given the project of installing drainage in our garden.  An had completely redesigned the garden and part of this involved the removal of the old square lawn and its replacement with a new round lawn.  I am not a gardener and although I like things to look nice, I have no clue about plants and colours and stuff.  I do, however, know about money and how much things cost and my Northern background makes me acutely aware of how expensive things are and I am forever questioning why we need to change things.  Needless to say I lost the argument, partly as I was not there to argue in the first place, I was being rocketed in Iraq!

As part of the project we had a problem with out garden, it was wet, very wet.  In fact it would flood quite regularly but not to the point where damage was caused.  I turned to the trusty internet and sought out some solutions to our problem.  I am not particularly good at DIY but I will have a go and some things I find easier than others.  There were two solutions that presented themselves, one was to dig a sink hole where the water could collect and drain away and the other was to dig a series or trenches and construct drainage.  The first solution was no good as we were on a flat piece of land and as far as I could tell water does not generally flow uphill.  Our solution would have to involve something rather more technical.

I researched the net and discovered that a recommended way to install drainage was to dig trenches about 800mm deep in a so called fishbone arrangement.  The construction involved digging out the trench, laying some base gravel, laying a coconut covered plastic pipe and then covering that with more gravel.  The whole lot was wrapped in anti-weed matting and it was meant to gradually slope down to the direction where you wanted the water to accumulate.  Each section of trench would drain 2.5m either side and in our case we had one main diagonal trench going across the garden and then subsidiary trenches to cover the 2.5m  areas missed by the main.  In all I dug around 40m of trenches in four sections.

The first stage was to remove the old grass, this was done in shovel sized sections and then plonked onto a wheelbarrow and shipped to the front of the house through the garage.  They were then neatly and I really mean neatly packed into a large container.  The container man was quite surprised at how well packed our container was when he came to collect it.  We also threw bricks and a number of other bits in there that we unearthed.  I say we, it was only me doing the digging!  It was back breaking work and I am not used to labour, I work in an office, in the comfort and the dry of a heated building.

Our soil is basically clay and it rained.  I had some idea of how the soldiers in the trenches must have felt as I toiled in sodden conditions where it felt at times that I was just moving the clay around and not getting very far.  I quickly gave up on the idea that the trench should slope gradually, I am not an engineer and I had more chance of nailing jelly to the ceiling than I had of getting a decent slope sorted out.  I have no idea what the previous owners did but I found a rather amazing amount of rubble and crap buried in the garden.  I jarred my shoulder and legs countless times on rocks and slabs of concrete as I battered away.  I had to remove the footpath as well, these were slabs of paving which I introduced to my friend Mr Sledge the hammer.

Once I had the trenches dug I had to get the gravel, which was delivered in batches.  We worked out, I think, it was 4 tonnes of gravel were needed to fill the trenches, all of this had to be hand carted through the garage in a wheel barrow and then deposited into the trench.  An managed to over order the gravel and we were left with about a ton at the front of the house.  If this would have been the North East of England you would be beating people off with broken beer bottles but no, no one was interested in helping themselves.  We ended up getting a friend to collect it for free, he was happy to help us out.

I lined the trenches with anti-weed matting and then laid a base of gravel and then the coconut covered piping.  After that I topped up the gravel and then finished by wrapping the weed matting over the top and then putting some soil on top.  I did not do any clever linking of pipes, measuring of slopes and other such crap.  Water is amazing stuff which cannot escape the effects of gravity and just collects at the lowest point.  Now the tricky bit was how do I get the water out of the trenches once it has collected there?  Well I dug a hole big enough to put a rain vat inside.  This is easier said than done.  I felt like a Viet Cong starting out on my tunnels as I slopped around in the clay mud trying to scoop out the hole, which of course was filing with water.  I drilled out some large holes in the rain vat and then covered them with weed matting, the idea being to stop the mud from getting in.  It later transpired that I needed a lot more holes as the damn thing would end up floating out of the hole and need resetting several times.

We now had a series of trenches and pipes which led to a rain vat that was sunk into the ground, the next challenge was to get the water out and dispose of it.  Luckily on the other side of our fence is a main drain and in fact this is where all of the excess run off goes for the whole street.  I rigged up an automatic float pump to activate and pump out the rain vat into the main drain.  It is one of the more satisfying projects as the drainage is extremely effective and our garden is so much better for it.

I have to say once I had completed the task and the new circular lawn was laid, An's next question was 'can we move the gate half a metre to the left?'  I responded with disbelief that the work involved to do this would probably mean removing the fence at the back and that was no easy task.  To date we have not changed this, I think it is a case of An biding her time before she asks that one again!

The lawn was laid down by some professionals who also shipped in a load of topsoil as well.  Despite my protests at costs and inconvenience I do think An has done an amazing job and our garden is full of a variety of plants and more importantly birds too.  I like to watch them as I have my breakfast and I do take charge of making sure they are fed.  An does not do birds, the feeding bit anyway.  We have had them nesting in boxes that we fitted and now we have them in the hedge too.  I never thought I would be so fascinated by watching them interact.  Small pleasures.

Save Our Souls - It's a Question of Diction

I started to learn Dutch not long after meeting An, the main purpose being able to take part in discussions and to be able to survive when out and about.  Now considering that I have been learning on and off for around almost 8 years, you would think I would be reasonably proficient.  I have to say that I am not as swept up as I would like to be and part of that is down to not dedicating time to learning and then putting it into use.

I started off by learning the sounds of the various combinations of letters such as ij and ei.  Now I won't go into detail because it would put you off but communication is all about saying the right thing and it sounding correct, the order of the words is not necessarily important.  It is nice but it is icing on the cake so to speak.  An speaks very good English, but if I was to stop and correct the grammar of what she is saying then we would not get very far, the key point is that I know what she means even if it is a bit jumbled at times.

Confidence is also very important.  A friend of mine said to me that I should say whatever I want in Dutch and then revert to English to fill the gaps, a kind of hybrid.  At first, when I was learning, I only wanted to say things if they were correct and therefore I would not try, that phase has passed. 

Another thing, which takes a bit of getting used to is to be in a completely alien environment where everyone is talking to each other and you cannot understand either because of the speed of speech or the words they are using.  I was at a private party one evening and two blokes came up to me and said something which was clearly very amusing to them but which I did not understand at all.  I noticed that some of the other guests looked uncomfortable and An was not around to translate.  The thing is, there was no impact on me whatsoever, what I did understand is that they were both extremely rude and that was from body language alone.  Now this really reinforced what most people in that situation must think and that is, well because I don't understand they must be talking about me and not knowing is bothering me.  Even though An's English is very good I have noticed that she feels quite isolated when in similar situations England.  This phase also passes, people are not necessarily talking about you because you cannot understand what they are saying.  It is very tiring to concentrate for so long and I have not even begun to deal with accents!

An has asked me if I can pick out the differences in accents but I am afraid that I can only distinguish between Flemish and Dutch speakers, it sounds like the latter is drowning when they speak!  In fact my view on the difference is that Flemish is more refined and softly spoken.  I have been told that I have an no Dutch accent, which is nice but then people expect you to be fluent so it can be a bit of a disadvantage.  The accent I put down to learning the sounds of the combinations of letters at the start.

People say that Dutch must be such a difficult language to learn, I suppose the answer to that is no language is that difficult it is just that you reach your limits rather quicker and find yourself searching for the right words.  I hit the buffers more often than I would like.  I did go through a phase of learning one to one with a teacher from Limburg, my father-in-law laughed when I told him, he told me that their accent was one of the stranger ones!  Anyway, when learning grammar from my Limburg teacher, it became obvious how much I took English for granted.  We have more or less the same rules but my God, try explaining them!  I tended to learn favourite sayings and therefore stick to what I knew.  I worked through the entire book and my teacher was quite pleased, although I think her expectations of my progress did not reflect reality.

I have had to learn by experience and so when we had the roof put on our house I learnt the language associated with this building project, the same could be said for the windows, getting work done on the car and, of course, ordering beer and food in cafes.

An does not speak much Dutch when talking to me and so I am missing out a bit here, but really this is a matter of convenience and speed.  It would take too long to get things done.  One of the things, and I am getting better, is learning the subtle differences between different words for example vlees and fles, the first is meat and the second is a bottle.  The v and f are similar sounding, however, the double e is a longer sound and the emphasis is slightly different.  It is also worth pointing out that the letter e sounds like the a in Jay not e as it meet.  You also have to be careful when you spell out words as the i in Dutch sounds like e in English!  You do get over these when people keep passing you a plate of meat instead of a bottle of water!  A lot of it is just saying it with confidence.  Now, a word of warning, the subtle wordplay of English does not really work even if you are chatting to people whose English is excellent.  The same must apply in reverse and the amount of times when I have been told a joke and just looked blankly must have been a bit off-putting.  Combine that with my poor hearing and it can be a challenge.

One evening An and I were watching a documentary on the Titanic and at that particular moment it was concerning the distress signal.  They were explaining that it used to be CQD, referred to as Come Quickly Distress, but that they had recently introduced the signal SOS, Save Our Souls.  An asked me what SOS meant and naturally I replied Save Our Souls.  She was almost shocked and said that it could not possibly mean that, so I repeated it and said no, really Save Our Souls.  I grabbed the computer and quickly searched Google to prove my point, she really did not believe me.  Google duly provided the answer at which point she said, oh, I thought you said save arseholes...  I thought that would be a novel way of calling Thunderbirds into action, now, where are these arseholes who need saving?

The point though was a fair one, as you get tired your brain interprets what you think you hear and finds the best match.  I normally start out ok but in a social context as the beer flows it gets more difficult to follow the theme.  It also helps if you have been part of the story.  I find it easier to chat about something if I know where the conversation is going.  I also find it easier to chat to pensioners as they tend to speak more slowly and clearly.

I know I must be getting indoctrinated because I now dream in Dutch, the thing is I suppose all of the words are in there somewhere and my subconscious must be able to put them together in the right order without worrying about whether it is right or not.

The most important words I have learnt are: Ik ben en engelsman, ik spreek en beetje Nederlands, kunt u spreek langzaam alstublieft.  I am not sure about the spelling of those but in essence it is: I am an Englishman, I speak a little Dutch, can you speak slowly please?  It also gives me more time to think and understand.  I also know how to get someone to repeat themselves in two different ways!

I think I will be learning until the day I pass on, I suppose that is not just limited to languages!

The Belgian Rivera

The short strip of coastline that runs from De Panne on the French Belgian border to Knokke-Heist on the Dutch Belgian border is what I refer to as the Belgian Rivera.  The coast itself is remarkably plain when you consider the variations that you get round the UK. 

The beaches are relatively narrow sandy strips with low level dunes.  In the built up areas it is like any other seaside town.  In hot weather and during the holiday season they flock to the coast and populate the many cafes on the sea front.  I have spent time in Knokke, which is the posh bit where the well off seem to parade their cars and the not so posh bit down in Nieuwport.  I will probably get some abuse for saying that.

The one thing you do need to look out for is the bicycles and what I can best describe as go-carts for adults.  These go-carts can be peddled by anything up to 8 adults so they can go fast when they want to.  Anyway, the promenade is mobbed by these go-carts and bicycles and they are even more ruthless than they are in the towns and cities.  I must add that inland there is some beautiful canals and villages that you can cycle to.  You will be surprised how far you will end up cycling.  An and I have had some interesting times cycling round including through the middle of the night, with the lights down on one bike and not really sure which way we needed to go.  It was a mini-adventure.

Our first holiday after we met was a week in Nieuwport, it was January and the snow had come down quite heavily, on the radio they recommended that people should stay at home.  Not us, we went to Bruges, but then the roads were quiet.  I remember coming up to some traffic lights and they changed, despite going quite slowly I failed to stop as the ABS on my car juddered it to a halt passed the stop line.  An said to me, I hope you don't get a fine for going through a red light!  I thought well apart from it being British plates and therefore unlikely, there was not a lot else I could have done to stop the car!

Getting back into the apartment was quite interesting as the car park was under the building and the ramp going in was iced up.  I had to open the door and just go for it as there was no stopping once I was on the slope.

We celebrated New Year and the first of many confusing texts sent over the following years as I would send my best to friends in the UK whilst they had to wait another hour before the New Year came.  This time was particularly odd because we went out to have some champagne on the beach in the middle of the night.  we went out well before midnight, which was just as well, we came back in just as quickly because it was bloody freezing.  Anyway we sent our Happy New year messages earlier still and got some confused replies back asking why we hand sent them just after 10pm!  We finished that champagne in the room.  Anyway at midnight all hell broke loose on the beach with fireworks being set off all over the place, good job we came back otherwise it would have been something like the opening salvos of the battle of El Alamain.

I have fond memories of the snow and ice on that particular trip, I took photos of the snow lying on the beach, which I thought was quite rare.  An and I had been together for just 3 months at that point. 

The trip was even more memorable for another reason, I had started the holiday by spending time with my brother in Denmark, which involved getting a ferry from Harwich to Esbjerg and then driving up to Hobro.  I was driving a silver Jaguar X-Type four wheel drive 2.5V6 petrol car.  It shifted to say the least.  Anyway, after having Christmas in Denmark I set out overland driving through Denmark, Germany, the Netherlands and then to Belgium.  There was a light dusting of snow and so I was driving very carefully and even dropped right down to about 40mph, it was going to be a long night.  The rest of the motorists were belting past me, but then, unbeknown to me, winter tyres are mandated in Germany and I had Summer tyres on mine. 

Not long after I got across the German border I was driving along and the car started to slide towards the hard shoulder, I kind of froze, not wishing to put the brakes on.  I also took my foot off the throttle and turned the wheels in the opposite lock towards the central reservation.  At this point when the car kept sliding I decided that I would apply a little power, not knowing what else to do, the car then spun completely 180 degrees and was facing the wrong direction!  I could see the oncoming traffic but now I was sliding towards the barrier.  I decided to turn the opposite lock on and apply even less power, I then spun 90 degrees and was heading straight for the central reservation.  At this point I gave up and resigned myself to either being hit, hitting the barrier or ending up in a ditch.  I therefore decided to apply the brakes and, amazingly, they slowed the car enough for me to turn the wheel the other way and apply even less power.  This time I ended up almost straight in the legal direction of travel and rolling slowly off the carriageway and onto the extra wide hard shoulder.  I did not stop, I allowed myself to safely continue rolling at an even slower speed and re-join the carriageway.  It all happened so quickly and my heart was thumping, it took a while to get my nails out of the steering wheel!

I am not sure what was scarier, the fact that I did not know where I was and could have crashed or that I still had a considerable distance to go.  Looking back on it now I realise that winter tyres are a must really.  The other thing is  that by applying power it does keep you going as long as you have not radically altered the steering.  I am sure there will be people laughing asking how I managed to lose control of a four wheel drive on barely any snow at all.  The German cars kept thundering past as well.

Anyway that was the start of my holiday that finished with both of us going to the coast.  I think I arrived at around 2am in Aarschot, much relieved and in need of a cup of tea!

Yorkshire Puddings

I remember, when I was little, every Sunday we would walk down to my Granddad's house for Sunday dinner.  Having Sunday dinner was a tradition which involved the gathering of our family to have a roast dinner. The meat varied, the usual vegetables were potatoes, peas, carrots, butter beans, cauliflower, turnip, cabbage and Brussel sprouts.  How could I forget, the Yorkshire puddings too!  The gravy was always lovely and the accompanying sauce would match the meat, apple sauce with pork, mint with lamb and horseradish with beef.  Sometimes we would have dripping and bread or be able to scoop out the bone marrow from the leftover lamb bones.  My Granddad or uncle would drink the cabbage water, yuk.

Glen and I would be out in either the large garden or the alley way playing football.  If we were lucky our Uncle Peter would be there to show us his ball skills and run rings round us.  Of the three of us I was the most useless at football.  I spent most of my time chasing a ball across the main road at the bottom of the alley way, this was on a hill so it was good exercise.  We also used to climb the trees and make bows and arrows as well, Glen once managed to spear me with  home made javelin, thankfully it did not break the skin.  We would often be off to casualty after standing on a plank with a rusty nail in it, getting a tetanus jab was a regular event.

Anyway the usual cry of 'oh, the potatoes are burning!' would follow the detection of that unmistakable aroma emanating from the kitchen.  The rescue attempt would follow and sometimes you could taste the charcoal other times it was fine.  Glen would always want whole potatoes even when the mashed season was upon us.  The Yorkshires were one of the favourite parts of the meal, these are baked puddings made by mixing milk, eggs and plain four and then baking in an extremely hot oven.  In fact the smoke coming from the oven looked scary but it was necessary to get the lard that hot.  Yes, lard, not oil.  I don't know if you can even get lard anymore!  Apart from the sauce that went with the meat, there was nothing fancy about the preparation no special way to prepare the veg or flavour the meat and it is here in the main, where we differ from the Belgian side of things.  I am not saying all households have 'plain' food but we did and it tasted great.  The UK culinary tastes are now so broad it would seem that the trend is that we must do something different.  We take in the best we can find from the rest of the world, a walk down the supermarket aisles will confirm the cosmopolitan tastes we have.

I have often had the debate with An when she seems keen to flavour everything from the meat down to the humble carrots, 'they need to have a taste!', she says, they do, they taste like carrots!  The best way I can demonstrate the difference in the approach to food is when we compare our Christmas dinner.  Typically we have, carrots with onion, butter, parsley, thyme, bay leaves and salt.  That was just one vegetable side dish of carrots!  There is also warm pear halves, freshly made cranberry sauce made with port, chicory (with butter, salt and pepper, simple compared to the carrots).  Maybe I am just very lucky and have a wonderful wife who goes the extra mile to make the food more than just a meal, an experience.

I have had mixed success at introducing Yorkshire puddings and this is down to my inability to make them.  I am not sure whether I get the balance of flour, milk and eggs wrong, if I make the batter too runny or whether it is just the oven that is not hot enough.  We have often had very flat and solid biscuit looking things which is no real advert for this wonderful thing.  I basically have to wait until my mother comes over before I get a decent Yorkshire pudding.  I prefer stodgy gravy absorbent ones, not the airy mushroom shaped ones.  I have also introduced butter beans, which were not welcomed, cranberry sauce (out of a jar), which An puts on cheese sandwiches and Christmas pudding, which sends everyone off to sleep when they have a mouthful.  Curries have been a hit, but then that is never a surprise.  Crackers, both the pulling variety and the ones that go with cheese have also been warmly welcomed.  They don't really do crackers with cheese.  They do, however, do cheese and there is a great shop in Leuven called Elsen , which you must visit if you are around.

I have managed to go to a few places in this blog but the main purpose was to compare the typical roast in the UK to Belgium.  Believe it or not they don't do crackling here, you have to ask, in code, with a butcher who is in the know.  Mind you some people would not see the attraction in eating pigskin, slashed, with salt rubbed in and is baked until crispy.  I can understand why you might get put off.  But then they eat horse here and also snails, so horses for courses, if you forgive the pun.

Getting back to Sunday dinners at my Granddad's house, he used to come in from the social club, put his feet up and watch the football or snooker.  Occasionally there would be a western or war film on in the afternoon.  At some point around 2pm we would have dinner, in the early years Glen and I had to eat in the kitchen as there was not enough room on the main table.  My uncle was always very fast at eating his dinner.  Whenever I went to get the salt before anyone else, my stepdad would stab my hand with a fork, a subtle way of saying let others go first.  There was normally a break between the main meal and dessert.  Dessert would range from Jamaica cake to apple crumble with custard.  The first out of a packet and the second home made.  My Auntie would then make cheese and fruit scones and an apple pie for tea, Glen and I used to ask for the apple peel to eat whilst we watched her do the baking.

I occasionally make apple crumbles here, which are appreciated.  I also make scones, shortbread and other things.  I have to say nothing can ever replace that taste of a roast dinner, which my mam comes over and makes every now and again, she also does a fantastic lasagne.

Before I close this one off I must tell you about the time An asked what I would like for tea when I came home.  I said I fancied breaded plaice with mashed potatoes and peas.  Now this, back home, is a case of banging into the oven a frozen breaded plaice, heating up the peas in a microwave and boiling a few potatoes (the most time consuming aspect).  An on the other hand bought fresh plaice, floured and flavoured it and covered in breadcrumbs. With the peas she got frozen and puréed them, it was like concentrated mushy peas.  Finally she bought some pre-made mash, cheating so to speak, but then she got them from the equivalent of Marks and Spencer's.  The meal was lovely, but it shows that the tendency, in our house at least, is to go for fresh.  Tinned and ready meals are almost never used.

The Controle Technique - The MOT Test Equivalent

In order to legally drive your car on Belgian roads you need to have valid insurance, hold a licence, be taxed and have a valid Controle Technique or CT.  Now I must distinguish between having the right documents to be able to drive and to actually drive whilst remaining within the bounds of the law.  I have no idea whether the problems of the UK such as failing to pay road tax, failing to hold insurance, no valid MOT and driving without a licence are as prevalent here in Belgium.  One can only assume that there are similar problems.

When you register your car you get issued a number plate, which has a special mark stamped on it, this means that it is taxed.  Tax is relatively expensive and is linked to the power of your engine.  The UK is catching up with this but the big difference here is that you can get your plate and they will send you a bill for the tax a few weeks or even a month or more later.  In the UK we pay up front otherwise no tax and therefore no car allowed on the road.  It is surprisingly common to be billed after receiving the services or at least that is what I have found in my experience here.

You can arrange insurance here much the same way as you can in the UK except that it is less expensive to arrange it face to face rather than online.  Insurance, I believe, is less expensive here.  You need to be aware that if you have an accident and you cannot agree with the other party as to who is at fault then the police will be called and the cars will remain where they are, however inconvenient it is to the rest of the road users.  As you can imagine, the police are called just about every time.  In my experience (as a passing motorist) I have never seen an accident that has not involved the police deciding who is to blame.  They can be in some very awkward places.  In the UK the police are reluctant to get involved unless there is death or injury and then there is not much choice.  Cars are shifted out of the way as quickly as possible as the idea is to get the traffic flowing.

To allow you to drive your car on the road you need a CT, which is the equivalent of the MOT test.  The CT is conducted by specialist centres and all they do is test vehicles, they do not find faults and then offer to repair them at inflated prices.  But then that is not to say that there is no corruption.  It is quite likely that they will recommend local garages to fix your problems and who knows what back handers are in place here.  You must CT your car when it reaches 4 years old and if you buy/sell it (regardless of age).  The CT is reasonably priced at around 50 Euros, although if it fails it costs you around 12 euros per retest and you only have a couple of weeks in which to get the repair done.

I took my car to get tested and it failed on the headlights, basically there is an adjustment lever to dampen down the headlamps and this was not acceptable.  Now, I had had my car tested the last time I was in Belgium and it passed with the same headlights and it was tested at the same centre.  What does this tell me?  Well it says to me that no matter who you ask for advice you will likely get a different answer when you ask again, this is a theme when it comes to officials.  It would appear that advice varies with the time of day.  In this case I was told I must change even though I produced the same certificate that they had given me and shown them the adjustment lever on the lights.  As it was about to cost me over 1000 euros I made absolutely certain that it was required.

Now, changing the lights, that was an experience in itself.  I was recommended to a garage that could do the work so I rang up and explained that I had right hand drive lights fitted and I needed left hand drive lights to replace them and make my car road legal by passing the CT.  I was asked for the Vehicle Identification Number (VIN) so they could get the right parts, the alarm bells should have begun to ring here, this was a British car and therefore the VIN would refer to UK spec lights.  Not to worry I had made it very, very clear what my requirements were and the person on the phone acknowledged my requirements.  To add to the complications I needed to get the lights changed before the CT certificate expired and before I went on holiday just over a weeks time.  The car was duly booked in and on the day I had to juggle the cars with An to enable me to drop it off.  I checked to make sure the parts had arrived but, crucially I did not check to ensure they were left hand drive lights.

It took all afternoon and I had to ring them to see whether they had finished.  When I called they said there was a problem and I knew what it was, dreaded it really.  I arrived, having juggled with An's car and a bicycle (the garage is about 2kms from An's work).  when I got there they started with the excuses about the VIN and whether I really needed left hand drive lights.  They had fitted a brand new set of right hand drive lights.  I re-iterated that I needed to pass the CT test, as I had explained at length when on the telephone.  They then started asking me who I had spoken to, in a bid to feign ignorance or language issues.  I said it was a bloke but I did not get a name.  The person in question was standing quietly at the back looking sheepish, he admitted freely that he had taken the call and that I had specifically asked for left hand drive lights.  They then offered to re-do the work, which would involve re-ordering the correct parts.  I told them I was going on holiday and that I would begin work the Monday after ie there was only what was left of this week to get it done.  I also said that my CT would expire and that this would cost me.  They managed after I had to state my personal circumstances again that they would fit me in before the end of the week.

Do you know I did wonder what they must have thought as they replaced perfectly functioning right hand drive lights with brand new right hand drive lights and thought that it must be ok.  I mean what sort of idiot British driver would drive to Belgium to have his lights replaced when they work?  Words escaped me.  I did make this clear to them and they did pay my additional CT test fee as a result.

The moral of the story, well trust no one and try and remain calm.  In my bid to keep my car legal and get it registered it had cost me a lot of money and a great deal of inconvenience.  I have to say we have found a local garage that deals mainly with Volvo, this is because An's car is a Volvo.  They are excellent and I would thoroughly recommend them, in fact it amazes me that they manage to turn a profit.  They are very dedicated and helpful people.  They also bill you rather than ask for payment up front, they work out of an industrial unit and are called Carzone.  They were recommended by a tyre company that I suspect damaged the bearings on An's car when they removed the front wheels.  We could not prove it and left it too long after having the tyres replaced to going back to them to challenge them.  Another lesson for us there. 

One of the frustrating things I have found when living in Belgium is not knowing where to go or who to trust for such things as cars or building/trade advice.  Back home I know all of the places to go to get reliable and honest work done.  I also know where to go to find the parts.  I do think that the labour charges here in Belgium are lower than that of the UK, a bonus really.

The Shopping Experience

In the UK we are blessed with some of the most convenient shopping facilities and opening hours that you could hope for.  We have mega supermarkets open 24 hours on six days a week, retail parks and shopping centres which open on Sundays and during public holidays and late night opening.  We also have sales practically non-stop, or so it would seem.  In fact it is so good that you almost don't have to think about whether or not the shops will be open or not.

Belgium, the shops shut on public holidays, sales are strictly controlled, some supermarkets have only just grasped the concept of opening until 20.00!  There are days during the week where some shops are closed, this compensates for being open on Saturday.  In smaller towns they close at lunchtime, although this varies.  If you want to shop you have to check to make sure they are open, you have to actually plan ahead and think about it!  I have been out before and the sodding shop was shut for stocktake during the day!  There is not much consideration for the customer, they are just there to buy the stuff and competition is a dirty word.

Do you remember the good old days when we used to distinguish between January and Summer sales?  Well they do here.  You will only find closing down sales if the shop is actually closing down!  There are perks, in a lot of shops they will either have a gift wrapping service or a gift wrapping area.  In fact this adds delay to those who just want to get on with it, but then it is a very professional finish to buying a gift.  You also have sweets on offer at the counter, when I first saw this I was not sure if I would be charged for having one.  Now, however, I take advantage and have one every now and again.  they are at the till so please don't go clearing supermarket shelves thinking it is free!

The main hazard with shopping is avoiding being run over by pensioners on bicycles as they go about their business.  Actually in all seriousness do look out for bikes as they are ruthless.  I must also point out that there is no such thing as a queue in a shop, be ready to just dodge ahead of some unsuspecting customer who has looked away for a millisecond.  It is quite odd though that they have a ticketing system in some shops, it is like one extreme to the other.

My personal view is that there is not enough competition and range of products available when you go shopping.  It is not the internet effect either as it has yet to really take hold the way it has in the UK.  If you are looking for something specific then you definitely need to know where to look.

When you are out and about please be careful when using zebra crossings, drivers will not stop whilst you are waiting to cross, you have to be bold and step out.  They then get rather upset when they have to then stop.  If you stand there then you will be waiting till the cows come home.  Cyclists do not stop in any event they just ring their bells and expect you to jump out of the way, the temptation to push them over is quite strong!

In almost all of the bars and cafes I have been in they will come to the table to serve you and the tip is included in the bill you get, don't leave any extra unless you think they really do deserve it.  Sadly, I have found that service is usually quite slow, maybe because they don't see the tip as an incentive (it already being charged regardless of the quality).  I was once at a music festival in Leuven and the place was absolutely heaving.  The four of us went to an Irish bar, which was also packed.  I said to my friends that I would squeeze my way to the bar to get the drinks but they insisted that we sit at a table, which we managed to find somehow.  Amazingly this waitress appeared and then took our order.  Being a good Brit I ordered a pint of cider (one of the few places you can get them), my wife and the other friends ordered half pints.  Now I think it is important to point out that one of them was a veteran paratrooper who had seen combat in the Congo and here he was ordering a half pint.  The urge to call him a shandy drinking lightweight (or words to that effect) entered and left my head for a short period of time.  Discretion was the better course here!  Most beers are consumed in relatively small glasses.  Although the glasses come in all sorts of shapes, which is linked to the beer you drink.  We are simple creatures in the UK and for us the glass is a functional container that is easy to stack and store.  You would be surprised at the fuss that can be created by not having the right glass available for the drink.

Anyway this blog has rather got out of control, I suppose as a bloke the link from shopping to drinking is quite logical and reasonable as our trips have often ended up in the bar somewhere, especially at Christmas!

Lily Allen - Choice Songs

This is kind of a difficult post to write as it is trying to explain the complete difference in attitude to playing songs on the radio.  I can't remember where I was when I first heard the song F**k You on the radio, but I do remember being quite shocked.  I think at first I was not really sure until the DJ said the title and artist clearly after the song had finished.  If you haven't heard this song before then I would encourage you to seek it out and listen.  It is a very catchy tune and as it is widely and openly played on the radio here in Belgium I can just imagine kids skipping along merrily singing away.

I don't think I have noticed the Belgian equivalent but then perhaps that is the secret, the equivalent word in Dutch is neuk.  They could do what they have done to a couple of Robbie Williams songs and sing them entirely in Dutch, but maybe that would cause more than a few people to choke on their coffee as the sound of neuk reverberated around the streets...

There is a clean version of this song which just omits the F-word, it is almost the same as the brain simply fills in the gap, but then the DJs in the UK do not emphasise the point by saying in a cheerful voice 'oh and that was F**k You, doing well at number 15...'.

I was discussing this with the family yesterday and even then I could not bring myself to say the word in front of them.  It is just shocking and me being a Navy man of some experience, I do not shy away from such things, normally!

Apparently the song was a protest aimed at George W Bush and if you listen to the lyrics it is a good song!

The radio in Belgium is much like that of the UK, except that you lose most of the Dutch stations as you enter the Wallonian side.  There is one other thing which is definitely different to the UK.  For some reason they report the length of traffic jams but as one figure.  For example they may say that there are 100kms of traffic jams in Belgium at any given point.  It never ceases to amaze me I mean who cares?  What you really need to know is where the traffic jams are not how many kms of queues there are.  It may be better to say that normally there are 50kms of queues as a benchmark but then they don't give any clues about that.

The reality is that they may as well say the usual spots are jammed, as they always are at given times during the day and then just report the accidents.  On my journey to and from home to work the choke points are always the same.  If you leave, as I do, at around 6am then you miss the really heavy traffic but it is still busy down the stretch from Aarschot to Leuven (E314) down to the E40 which is the run in towards the ring road.  Once I get down to the ring I have the joy of going left towards Waterloo and away from the chaos that is the airport direction and the infamous Antwerp junction.  As I pick up speed and head west I see the traffic backing up on the opposite carriageway.  Of course all of this is totally messed up when there is an accident or bad weather.

Anyway I digress, starting with Lily Allen and finishing with traffic jams! 

Buying Our House

The process of buying a house in Belgium is very different from that of the UK.  Of course I am comparing buying a house in the UK in 1996, when compared to buying one in Belgium in 2007.  The financial crisis and the waking up of financial institutions to risk has meant that they have tightened up everywhere. 

Taking this in stages, one of the first tasks is to get finance, in the UK the market was at rock bottom which meant that more often than not sellers were offering to pay the deposit for buyers, which is what happened in my case.  The flat I bought was on the market for £24,000 in 1996.  I had absolutely no trouble at all in securing a mortgage in a couple of hours, even though I was on £9,000 gross pa.

In Belgium I had a bit of trouble just negotiating as the house was valued at 190,000 euros and the market was such that any viable property was being snapped up fairly quickly.  It is worth mentioning that you get a lot more for your money in Belgium than you do in the UK.  Anyway, the additional costs you need to pay here are:  The VAT (BTW) of either 6% for houses older than 5 years or 21% if they are younger than 5 years old, the solicitors fees (a fixed % of the property value regardless of the quality of service), the loan arrangement fees and in our case the life insurance policies to cover anything bad happening to either of us.  The reason I had trouble is that I was not resident in Belgium, which meant that they could not get access to my salary.  Apparently this is a requirement in case I should default for whatever reason.  When we made enquiries we could not be given an answer as to how much we could be loaned and therefore there was no quick answer.  In fact because of the builder's holiday and the generally slow way in which mortgage applications take place, this turned out to be a very painful and drawn out process.  We engaged the same solicitors as the seller, which on face value may not have been that wise but turned out to be quite fortuitous.

When An agreed to buy the house from the agent negotiating on the part of the seller, she aimed for a transfer date of the 15 October 2007 but was concerned that this might not be enough time to get everything sorted out.  She had been assured that the solicitors and the bank would complete the arrangements in time.  It is critical to point out that in Belgium, when you sign the offer and it is accepted, you can have a maximum period of 3 months to complete the process.  Despite a verbal agreement that the 15th October was flexible on the part of the seller, this turned out to be worthless.  The key point to hoist in is that whatever you sign up to is the thing you will be held to when it comes to the crunch, you will find that this is the case with all transactions of this type, your word means nothing.  When I first came across here I read that you had to be careful about giving verbal agreement to contracts, it is total crap.

Anyway, as the transfer date closed in the solicitor was delaying for one reason or another and low and behold we got a letter saying that there would be interest due for each day of delay.  I contacted the solicitor and stated quite bluntly that, as he was working for both the seller and the buyer, he would be liable for the additional costs as he was the person causing the delay.  The bank had processed the mortgage, eventually, and it was up to the solicitor to complete the process.  He soon managed to get a move on after that and it was completed on time.

During this process I wanted to borrow about 120% of the value of the house and normally, at this time, it was routine to be able to do this.  Because of the bank dithering and taking so long to approve the mortgage I had, in the space of a few hours in the UK, secured additional borrowing against my property in the North East of England.  I would now have to face the prospect  of transferring Sterling over to Belgium, just when the euro/£ began its decline from 1.5 to its present 1.18 euros per £.  It did drop further almost to parity, so you can imagine my annoyance at this additional complication in obtaining finance.

The most trying aspect of buying a house was the seemingly endless delays in getting people to do their jobs, the bank and the solicitor in the main.  We originally used Immotheaker from Aarschot but they failed even the basics of keeping an appointment.  We then decided to use Leuven branch of Immotheaker, which was far more responsive and helpful.  Immotheaker is a financial broker and they did all of the arrangements for us regarding loans and insurance, they made it easy.

In the UK, the problem was the solicitor had forgotten all of the things we had discussed when I met him at his office, especially they key point of the seller paying the deposit.  A quick reminder sorted that out.  During my time with this flat I re-mortgaged several times and each time it was a very quick and convenient process.  Nothing is quick and convenient in Belgium when it comes to buying a house.  Even the extra borrowing we obtained to get a pitched roof instead of the flat roof involved solicitors, fees and another lengthy arrangement to cover the process.

The lesson from this is never trust anyone's word, get a signed document which details this.  I insisted on getting the solicitor to ensure that the seller retained responsibility for the de-commissioned fuel tank that was buried somewhere in the grounds of the house.  He was very blasé and when I started getting angry he just gave in and called his far more competent assistant in, who assured me that it would be written into the contract.  He can stand by if I ever find out that he was lying!  The same man kept An and I waiting as he discussed the décor of his house in plain view of us.  Our appointment time came and went and he then had the balls to try and persuade us to arrange a post nuptial agreement to cover our house should one of us die.  Apparently half  of the house would go to the family under current arrangements as we had bought this before getting married.  All the time my ticket on the car was getting closer to expiry and in fact I ended up with a parking ticket.  I was livid and ended up demanding that they pay it as they had kept us unnecessarily.  In the end I did not follow this up but rather resolved to never ever use them again and not to recommend them should anyone ask.

I got the feeling that there were people just on a gravy train and that within Aarschot there was a small town complex and that everyone is just taking advantage.  I am sure it was just me being sceptical and wary of being had, still didn't make any difference though!

The house we bought, although fundamentally sound was in dire need of updating.  in fact just about any house that was available on the market needed a good gutting and refurbishment.  It seemed that no one had decorated since moving in sometime in the early 70s.  The house was a 1970s social housing build, part of a 100 house development. There was wood panelling throughout the ground floor and on the ceilings, the bathroom and kitchen were original and probably antique.  It was dark and in need of brightening up.  I have to say that housing design in Belgium is extremely varied with all sorts of shapes and designs, almost as though there are no planning controls.  In fact, as I understand it, they have really only just started to get to grips with planning controls as I will reveal in another blog about our loft.  They do seem to like narrow buildings though and in a lot of cases they look like bunkers, lego block buildings with narrow windows.  It is too varied to generalise though.  One thing for certain is that you usually get land and a garage too.  In the bigger cities this is less so, but for the most part you do well.  In the UK garages, relatively speaking, are rare as is the availability of off road parking.  In fact a lot of small gardens in the UK have been overlaid with concrete to provide this parking space.

Of course things have now changed both in the UK and Belgium as a result of the financial crisis, mainly in terms of securing mortgages.  I still think that convenience and service is better in the UK, but I am sure there are many with experience in the UK who will disagree.

A Nice Cup Of Tea

A nice cup of tea is something you will not find in Belgium unless you make it yourself or find one of the few special people who have been indoctrinated in the art of making a cup of tea.  The hot drink of choice here is coffee, in fact I was so annoyed with the poor standard of the preparation and quality of tea I even chose to drink a koffee verkeerd whenever I went to a café.  It took some time before I found out that the word verkeerd meant 'wrong', so I was ordering a coffee wrong, which says it all really.

Anyway, order a cup of tea in a café and you will get a glass cup, no milk and probably a slice of lemon. The glass cup will have some tepid water in it and the tea bag will be in an individual wrapping on a saucer.  You will also get some kind of accompaniment such as a biscuit or, heaven forbid, Speculoos (a traditional Belgian biscuit).  The temptation to whip out a projector, laptop and various other learning aids and deliver a presentation on how to prepare a proper cup of tea is very strong, but it is in fact an utterly pointless exercise.  On the packet that the tea bag comes in there is a pictorial representation of how to make a cup of tea, they key point being that it requires boiling water to be poured over the said tea bag.  The exercise is also questionable because the quality of the tea is low to say the least.  They most often serve Yellow Tea or English Breakfast, which of course is not to be found commonly consumed in the UK!  They do have other teas such as Earl Grey, but they are for those who know what to ask for and in any event you cannot get past the criminal act of having it served on a saucer next to a cup of hot, but not boiling, water.  So with the quality and preparation being so poor it is hardly surprising that there are not that many tea drinkers around, perhaps this was the anti-competitive behaviour of the coffee suppliers or just plain ignorance.

I must report that I have had some success in converting the family to Earl Grey tea, or Flash as it is known by the family back home on account of its similar smell to the detergent.  I normally drink Tetley, which provides a good strong cup of tea.  I do, however have to import this from the UK.  The other thing I failed to mention is that if you ask for milk you will be given cream, because that is what they use for coffee, it just adds further insult really.  As sophisticated as the Belgians are with coffee they are equally unsophisticated with tea and lets be honest why would they worry?

I regularly bring back tea for my in-laws and An is fully converted and knows the importance of ensuring that the water is boiling.  For my father-in-law, he prefers it if I just waft the tea bag at the water as it goes into the cup, he does not like strong tea and certainly no milk.  Occasionally he takes a bit of lemon, but at least it starts the right way.  My sister-in-law has in fact broadened my tastes to other forms of tea but I do draw the line at fruit teas In my view these fruit teas leave an enduring taste in whichever cup or pot they are brewed in and a blowtorch would not get rid of this residual scum even if applied vigorously followed up by a wire brushing.

I mentioned speculoos earlier, this is a popular and famous biscuit that Belgians find very appealing and seem to like serving with coffee and other hot drinks.  Speculoos is similar to a ginger snap but without the ginger, which begs the question, why?  The British have an incredible range and diversity of biscuits but this is not reflected in the same way over here.  In terms of appeal I would compare speculoos to a Rich Tea or for those weirdos that like Rich Tea, perhaps if I said it had the opposite appeal of a chocolate Hob Nob?  I think that some brilliant entrepreneur came up with this biscuit baked with a bit of sawdust and managed to market it as the perfect nibble to have with your coffee and in doing so dominated the market.  To all Belgians out there, try some biscuits from the UK, you will be pleasantly surprised, mind you they might introduce an import tariff if they get too popular.

Pancakes - Pannekoeken - Crepes

Pancakes, along with waffles are to be found served in most cafes and restaurants and, unlike their British counterparts, tend to be made from a batter mix that is creamier and sweeter.  In fact you normally cannot get pancakes in most places in the UK as it is associated with Shrove Tuesday.  What has become a treat in the UK is taken for granted here in Belgium and is freely available.  There is, however, more to it than just a pancake, naturally.

I should start by saying that if you ask for a pancake with sugar and lemon, the waiter or waitress will check to see if they heard you right, at least twice.  Pancakes are served in Belgium with among other things, ice cream, jam, chocolate sauce, warm cherries, sugar, whipped cream and a few other dressings.  With one exception that I found whilst at the coast, they are never ever served with lemon.  If you ask you will more often than not be given a rather lame slice of lemon, which they sometimes forget to bring so you have to remind them.  You will also end up with three types of sugar, which is normal.  The only place I have found a pancake with lemon and sugar on the menu was as Siska's, a famous pancake and waffle café on the coast in Knokke. Here it was called the American.

 The drawback to pancakes in Belgium is the little known law that they can only be sold between the hours of 14.00 - 18.00 the sale of pancakes is strictly prohibited at any other times.  I believe this is to do with the Union of Pancake Cooks who, after years of struggle with domineering employers, have managed to introduce legislation to protect their rights.  Actually I am kidding, it just appears that whenever I want a pancake the cafes seem to cease making them for reasons best left to Stephen Hawking to work out.

I have often made illegal pancakes in the privacy of the home, in fear of being raided by the pancake police.  I do however go back to basics with mine and use just plain flour, eggs and milk, this way I really appreciate the special ones when I can get my act together to be at the right place at the right time.

I do believe that waffles can be eaten at anytime, so maybe it is a competition thing that the waffle makers have over the pancake makers.  We cannot call them tossers as I don't think I have seen a pancake cook frantically tossing away, but then it is in the privacy of the kitchen and I really don't want to know how they prepare the food.

Waffles can come with ice cream and or powder sugar, called bloem suiker.  The bloem is Dutch for flour and also flower, confusing or easier to remember do you think?  The bloem zuiker ends up everywhere especially if you try and make someone laugh while they are taking a bite.  I might add that these waffles are very light and delicious as they are freshly made.  You can get the dry dense ones in the supermarkets but they are not a patch on fresh ones.

Frietjes

Coming from the nation that is renown for fish and chip shops I had no idea that Belgian Frietjes were quite famous for their quality and preparation.  In the UK you can get a considerable range and quality of chips from place to place, some are quite honestly, awful, greasy, floppy things.  In Belgium it does not really matter where you go, the Frituur or Chippy, will serve pretty much the same style and thickness of crunchy fries.  I must point out that they will have a slightly different taste depending upon where you go and I have no doubt there are some Frituurs out there who stray from the standards expected.  In the main the standard is high and consistent across the board.

The Frituur cooks very much to order, they do not have things pre-cooked and awaiting the customer.  It is always fresh and you always have to wait, regardless of how simple your order is, for example a small fries.  The penalty of waiting is more than made up by the quality you get.  In a British Chippy, you will get a variation of freshly fried produce depending upon when you happen to wander in and the tempo of earlier customers, this means that you can end up with some rather stale chips and dry fish.  There is as much a range of extras in a Frituur as you will find in a Chippy but there will not be pies and they do not have either vinegar or baps, more of that later.

The Frituur is always busy and if you are considering a portion of fries then be aware that a small fries is in fact a mammoth portion that you will have difficulty eating.  It almost doesn't matter what size you order at times.  You will be asked if you want mayonnaise or something similar, there are a range of other sauces.  The mayo can be splurged on top of your fries or apart in a plastic tub.

When I first met An she introduced me to Belgian fries and in turn I introduced her and her dad to a great British tradition, the chip butty.  We were sat round the table having just been to get the fries and I innocently asked for some bread and butter.  At first they thought, okay a bit strange but there you go.  The faces then looked rather serious as I started to put together my chip butty, what on earth was this?  It was as though I had taken two fries and shoved them up my nose.  What a weirdo, why have them in bread?  Well I have to say that I have not managed to convert anyone to chip butties but by God Belgian fries make good ones.  The only drawback, as mentioned in the Pies blog, is the bread, if pre-sliced it is quite inadequate for the task.  This is where you need to plan ahead and rugby tackle the girl in the bakers before she slices your bread.