I waited at the Eurostar entrance for Mum and Nan to appear and help them with their luggage and when they finally do, we lugged the cases to a taxi to take us to their hotel. They are staying at the Warwick, a very posh and ginormous hotel just off the Grand Place, so in the ideal location for sight-seeing. We weren’t walking long, taking in the sights, before I realise a slight problem; my nan is a lot weaker than I could’ve imagined. Now this may sound harsh, especially considering she is over 80 years old, however, if you could see the rocket this woman is around her home and when she is out doing the food shop, you would never imagine she ever felt tired. The truth is, she isn’t a well woman, she never has been really and we have just learned that she has the big bad one too. Today has really put into perspective how age is the cruellest of illnesses which we all have; it is a blessing and a curse all in one and is by far the most unfair of human afflictions; maybe the notion of Carpe Diem, or seizing the day isn’t such a bizarre notion after all.
The dinner party was a real highlight to the day after having come to these conclusions. I got to finally meet Arnd, who we had bought a pair of novelty underwear from the gay kink shop (I can’t wait to see his face, it will be priceless as he is German and quite stoic). We aren’t chatting long before I am then introduced to Luca, Nixon’s Italian friend who will be staying with us for a week, who is a complete sweetheart, and very Italian…hugs included. My mum and nan arrive about an hour later. It is so lovely for them both to see my cousin Chris (who is actually my Mum’s 2nd cousin…so my third cousin, once removed or something stupid like that), as he has lived out here for 18 years and it has only been at specific occasions that he has been able to come over and see the whole family together. He greets them from the open living room window, waving like the queen (in two senses), before meeting them at the door and the several minutes of very European hugs and kisses ensue before we go through to the dining room. Nixon has prepared a delicious feast of three courses. For starters, a delicious chestnut soup with port and subtly spicy dark chocolate shavings (I had mine without the Parma ham chips). For main we had a pear and gorgonzola risotto which was so creamy and for dessert, we had Greek yoghurt and apricots with Brazilian honey from pineapple blossom and poppy seeds; needless to say, we were all stuffed and very content with ourselves when we were done.
The conversation and the wine kept flowing until quite late, and until I was feeling a little more giddy than I would like to admit. The highlights of the table banter consisted of some witty, under-breath jokes from Arnd and my mum accidentally offending Luca by laughing at an inappropriate time when she hadn’t heard what he’d said, insinuating that he was fat (he didn’t take it to heart, but did then cover his chest and stomach with a napkin as if to save his modesty from that point). When it got too late for mum and nan, I kissed and hugged them both goodbye and then popped to the little boy’s room. By the time I had come out a few moments later, the whole living room had been transformed. The lights were off, and were replaced with dancing disco lights, and the soft funk music in the background had now been turned up to lively and loud dance music; I am constantly astounded at how resourceful these men are. I danced for a little while longer before the wine got the better of me and I came upstairs to write this…I’m sure I will feel this tomorrow.
Be First to Comment