O2 Arena - Robbie Williams

The concert ended over two hours ago, but I'm still wide awake. I'm just buzzing.

I'd like to repeat OMG! OMG! ROBBIE WILLIAMS! OMG! SO AMAZING! I CAN'T BELIEVE I FINALLY GOT TO SEE HIM LIVE! but I won't, because I am a serious adult woman.

And a total Robbie fan girl.

Having been a huge appreciator of the man's music for nearly 15 years, I've seen all the live videos and heard every concert record. I knew Rob could put on a show. So when he announced a concert at the O2 on a night that I'd already be in London, I dutifully hit refresh on my browser at 1am (9am BST, you see) until I got the pleasure of spending hundreds of dollars on a seat at the show. Not that I sat down for even a second once it started.

The concert was 2 hours of brilliance. I expected a lot, knowing what a showman Robbie can be, but being there in person is an experience far better than anything that can be captured by recording equipment. I danced, I sang, I cheered, and when Mr. Williams told me to put my hands up, you can be damn sure that I did! The Arena is fairly large, and it was obvious that the people in the very top row were just as engaged as those near me in the lower seats, and the ones pressed against the barrier beneath the stage. We were all loving it. And that's what makes Robbie a star.

On the way out of the show, nearly every conversation I overheard was about how happy folks are that our Rob, having been through all he has, is doing so well personally and is now back on top professionally. I heard the word "proud" a lot, and even more often, "he really deserves it." That's something I love about the British. Sure, it may be a biased sample at the concert, but I couldn't imagine Americans being so supportive if one of their icons had been through rehab twice and nearly fallen into musical oblivion... no matter how much they claimed to be a fan.

Tonight was a concert like no other. I'd love to see Robbie again, but given his lack of popularity stateside, this may have been my only chance. Luckily I ordered the live recording of tonight's show, and since it was also televised, I'm guessing there will be a DVD at some point, so at least I'll have ways to relive this one night in the future.

Until then, I need to find a way to get some sleep. When's it gonna stop, DJ, cause you're keeping me up all night...
 

Brussels

A few years ago, a friend told me not to bother visiting Brussels, because he thought it was totally boring. More recently, my aunt (the only aunt I can relate to) went on at length about how beautiful she found it here, and how it has quickly become her favourite city in Europe. So when I discovered that all the trains from Luxembourg to London went through either Paris or Brussels, I decided to stop here for a night and make up my own mind.

I tend to side with the friend who found it boring.

Maybe it's the persistent drizzly rain today, or that I have no idea where to go or what to do here, but in a couple hours of wandering the city, I found nothing much to become enthusiastic about. Sure, there are some lovely buildings and such, but if you've seen one European city's Old Town, you've pretty much seen them all. And I've seen plenty.

One thing I can say for Brussels: the place is lousy with beer. Good beer, too. Strong beer. The seriousness with which Belgians brew their beer has not been overstated.

In fact, the Leffe blonde I'm drinking now has such a high alcohol content that I may not be able to have more than one or two... that is, not without falling down drunk or eating more than the simple bacon sandwich I ordered for dinner. Luckily I'm consuming it in my hotel (which is crawling with obnoxious pharmaceutical conference folks which I'm about to run screaming from anyway), so I don't have far to stumble into bed.

I have an afternoon train tomorrow, so I may give fair Bruxelles another chance in the morning. If the weather clears up, I may even change my opinion.

Until then... it's me and my beer... and my free hotel wifi.

Luxembourg

I’m about to end my time in Luxembourg, and I’m still not sure what I think. The only word I can come up with is cold.  The temperatures have been in the 30s and low 40s, with rain and fog to increase the chill, but that’s not all. I get the sense that the people here are not particularly friendly. Maybe it’s just because I don’t speak their language(s), or look like an outsider… but they don’t seem to be particularly chatty with each other either.

In my time here, I’ve only had one interaction with someone not part of a service staff. I popped into the Top Affair supermarché for a cheap snack, and ended up in line behind two young guys who were using some kind of lunch vouchers to buy such healthy items as cookies, chocolate milk, and mentos. They were clearly down on their luck, and kept asking the clerk for one thing after another, taking ages to complete the transaction. I heard a low voice coming from behind me. Assuming the woman next in line was just muttering to herself, I glanced back to find that she was actually attempting to commiserate with me, quietly and in Luxembourgish. Since I had no idea what she was saying,  but could see her disdain without any translation, I just gave her an understanding smile and shook my head at the boys ahead of us.

Despite Luxembourg having 3 official languages, none of which I really speak, I’ve been able to get by without asking for English. Per the Musée d’Histoire de la Ville de Luxembourg, Luxembourgish (Lëtzebuergesch) is the primary language people speak in their day to day lives, while the press is typically in German, and business/administrative affairs are handled in French. Since that includes things like shops, and  I understand enough French to say, buy a sandwich and a beer, I’ve muddled through.  

According to what I learned at the history museum, Luxembourgish is a fairly new language, adopted widely to help differentiate the citizens from neighbors and former occupiers France and Germany. The use of other languages continues only due to tradition, and Lëtzebuergesch is central to the national identity.

Maybe the history contributes to the closed off nature of the Luxembourgers. Or maybe their coldness shaped the history. They’ve managed to avoid being taken over by the superpowers around them, and maintained a distinct culture of their own in the process. Maybe keeping to themselves is part of that culture.

Not that I’m one to talk… Loner that I am…

Paris

It's my second trip here, and I've concluded that Paris is the Adele of cities. Everybody loves her, and I completely understand why; she's just not for me.

My first time here, I hated it. I spent one day strolling around, trying to do and see everything that a tourist isn't supposed to. Rather than enjoying myself, I just got desperately lost and rained on. Lots of people told me I needed to try Paris again, though, so I've returned for another couple of days.

I got in yesterday afternoon, and spent the rest of the day drinking wine. That part was pretty good. Uneventful, not the greatest time I've had in a city, but nice enough. So I decided that I'd spend today doing all the obligatory tourist activities... and then go back to drinking wine.

I saw some lovely things -- La Tour Eiffel, Sacré Cœur --but I really hate being a tourist. Even worse than the other tourists themselves are the assholes who prey on tourists. All day long I had to deal with high pressure sales and people wanting me to sign their petition (or whatever it was). I don't care how worthy your cause is or how cheap your tchotchkes are, if you try to force a pen/item into my hand, you're not getting my money or my name on your piece of paper, and I will be very rude to you.

By far the worst encounter was with a guy wanting to tie a string on my arm "for Africa." I politely declined, so he grabbed my jacket sleeve and attempted to do it anyway. I jerked away, and said no rather forcefully. He started to reach for my arm again, then thought better of it, perhaps because he realized he was a split second away from getting punched.

Having survived the worst tourist traps, I moved on to the Centre Pompidou. After waiting in a very long line (and shamelessly using their wifi to entertain myself in the meantime), it turned out the art gallery was closed, and I didn't have a ticket for what everyone else did. I was turned away. That meant an afternoon similar to my last one in Paris: wandering the streets along the Seine, snacking on a baguette, checking out the Louvre (also closed, Paris hates Tuesdays), and not really having that spectacular of a time.

In the end, I don't hate Paris anymore, but I don't love it either. It's just not my thing. I'll take a London or a New York over it anytime. Still, I'm glad I gave it another shot, because the wine? I really do love the wine.