Wednesday 16 October. It’s our twentieth wedding anniversary! We’ll take off in the afternoon for a long weekend in the Ardennes, but first there’s a working morning, so the alarm is still set at six. It’s a complicated morning: I have work to finish before noon and also a few remote meetings planned, plus I’m expecting some deliveries and a repair service person to have a look at my malfunctioning drying machine. Plus also, I’d really like to get my laundry folded before we leave, so I can remove the drying rack from the living room. Plus plus I need to update the media system manual for my mom, who’s coming to stay the night while we’re gone, to keep the cats company. Don’t laugh, it’s a custom setup and requires three remotes to get going.
I manage to get all of that out of the way, no problems. After a quick lunch we throw some clothes and toiletries in the small carry-on, we’re ready to leave around two. Wallet, check. Meds, check. I don’t remember what I put in the valise but I assume I can work with it. The GPS is set for destination Our, which is a tiny hamlet in the Ardennes with a nice hotel and a great restaurant. It’s not the worst time of day to cross Belgium, but even so we make an effort to avoid the traffic jams. It’s probably not quicker to take the small ring road through Brussels, but it’s more pleasant (even if we do miss one junction and make a small detour) and at least we have some new views while we’re queueing for traffic lights.
We arrive at our destination around five, with plenty of time to spare before our dinner reservation. A relaxing bath with some nostalgic music, then a bit of extra effort for the wardrobe and accessories and we’re good to go around seven, to the nearby gastronomical restaurant La Table de Maxime. We’ve been here before and the food is as delicious as we remember, but the big surprise is that my family arranged for a bottle of champagne. So instead of asking for our preferred aperitif, the waiter informs us that it is being offered to us and proceeds to mangle the first names of my mom, sisters and brothers-in-law. It takes us a few seconds to catch up (Flemish names are pretty hard to pronounce in French), but it’s a lovely and very thoughtful surprise. The bottle of champagne that is served is also a nostalgic one, a producer that is pretty hard to get these days. We take a picture of us toasting our family and immediately send it out with our thanks. We spend the evening talking about old memories, new hobbies and future plans, it’s just perfect.
Febe writes 