Food and Dutch. That is my theme for today. I think I've eaten enough food for a week and I'm still hungry. I have to be careful using the phrase "I'm so hungry I could eat a horse" because in Belgium we really do eat horses.
I've been a bottomless pit for the last 7 hours. Breakfast was quite light but this afternoon and evening it has been like a eating contest. I'm glad to have my appetite back though no complaints there. My appetite is one of the few things I'm scared of in life. Especially when I'm not training or racing. I don't even want to think how many kilos I could put on if I gave up cycling for a few months. For my entire class today all I could think about was food. Probably because the market was outside and on my way in to class I caught the pleasant aroma of waffles. The sounds of bike bells, the ambitious sales people shouting about there deal of the hour, and the crowds of pensioners all meandering around between the dozens of trailers. None of them have an agenda but be careful how slow you think you might be able to walk. They are all subconsciously on a mission. I was too though. To find something to eat when I arrive home later. I started with a double chocolate koekje from the baker. Which I would save for later. Then I found this little shop that had something on display that had my name written all over it. My approach was like that of someone who found the end of the rainbow. The glass behind which these little tasty treats sat was more like a prison window. Don't worry I would set them free. I'm still not sure what these baked goods are. I've heard the name over and over but it is a bit weird and it doesn't stick in my head well. So whatever it is in Dutch that you call a round piece of dough, just smaller than the shape of a new york style bagel, apparently deep fried until golden brown, sliced down the middle, filled with soft pastry cream and then coated in powdered sugar as if there had been a dusting of snow. That was delicious. Glad I ate about four oranges and two bananas to try and offset that one.
Dutch class was fun and I when I'm there I feel like an overgrown kindergartner. Today was not only my first day of class but it was also the first day of class for most Felmish kids. I was starting to feel like part of something until I realized I still couldn't speak Dutch. As much as I think I understand sometimes I don't really. There is something about learning a language and then speaking that are somehow not very connected. Sure, I can see words, I say them, I can hear them and know the meaning but until I actually use the word it really has no meaning at all. Sometimes it is not even the word that makes the sentence but, naturally, it is the words before and after. Hearing and feeling the intonation in a language is a big factor in speaking it. Which is why learning Dutch (or any language) could be easier after a few beers. What better way to slow down your mother tongue and put a soft hesitation on the automatic system that formulates our daily thoughts? Ok, just an idea :)
I've been a bottomless pit for the last 7 hours. Breakfast was quite light but this afternoon and evening it has been like a eating contest. I'm glad to have my appetite back though no complaints there. My appetite is one of the few things I'm scared of in life. Especially when I'm not training or racing. I don't even want to think how many kilos I could put on if I gave up cycling for a few months. For my entire class today all I could think about was food. Probably because the market was outside and on my way in to class I caught the pleasant aroma of waffles. The sounds of bike bells, the ambitious sales people shouting about there deal of the hour, and the crowds of pensioners all meandering around between the dozens of trailers. None of them have an agenda but be careful how slow you think you might be able to walk. They are all subconsciously on a mission. I was too though. To find something to eat when I arrive home later. I started with a double chocolate koekje from the baker. Which I would save for later. Then I found this little shop that had something on display that had my name written all over it. My approach was like that of someone who found the end of the rainbow. The glass behind which these little tasty treats sat was more like a prison window. Don't worry I would set them free. I'm still not sure what these baked goods are. I've heard the name over and over but it is a bit weird and it doesn't stick in my head well. So whatever it is in Dutch that you call a round piece of dough, just smaller than the shape of a new york style bagel, apparently deep fried until golden brown, sliced down the middle, filled with soft pastry cream and then coated in powdered sugar as if there had been a dusting of snow. That was delicious. Glad I ate about four oranges and two bananas to try and offset that one.
Dutch class was fun and I when I'm there I feel like an overgrown kindergartner. Today was not only my first day of class but it was also the first day of class for most Felmish kids. I was starting to feel like part of something until I realized I still couldn't speak Dutch. As much as I think I understand sometimes I don't really. There is something about learning a language and then speaking that are somehow not very connected. Sure, I can see words, I say them, I can hear them and know the meaning but until I actually use the word it really has no meaning at all. Sometimes it is not even the word that makes the sentence but, naturally, it is the words before and after. Hearing and feeling the intonation in a language is a big factor in speaking it. Which is why learning Dutch (or any language) could be easier after a few beers. What better way to slow down your mother tongue and put a soft hesitation on the automatic system that formulates our daily thoughts? Ok, just an idea :)
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