Pussy Galore

Sorry to all you James Bond fans but Honor Blackman isn’t going to feature. Instead I’d like to ask…What do you know about Belgium ?

Well for one I know that’s the first place I ever had Mayonaise with my chips (or should I say frites) – yum ! Then there’s obviously Herge’s Tintin and Christie’s Poirot. There’s Eddie Merckx, Jean Claude Van Damme and for those who remember the punk era there’s even Plastic Bertrand but that’s about the depth of my knowledge I’m afraid.

As far as places go Belgium was a country I generally passed through on the way to others and rarely stopped off anywhere aside from four in particular – the first three being: Spa where they hold the Grand Prix, The Atomium outside Brussels and Bruges which is a great place to visit (and where I sampled Mayonaise and Frites for the first time).

The only other place I’ve stopped off at was Ypres the town close to where many lost their lives during the Great War. It was around this time of year that I was there once and witnessed one of the most bizarre spectacles I’ve ever seen.

Now I know the Spanish are well know for their religious type festivals and that animals don’t often fare that well during those events but as for the Belgian’s ?

In an attempt to rid Ypres of evil spirits, cats which were said to personify evil (my dog would agree vehemently to that statement) are literally hurled from the Lakenhalle’s (Cloth Hall) Belfry. I often wondered why bad weather is referred to as it’s raining cats (and dogs) – perhaps this is why?

Thank goodness for common sense as now only toy cats are subjected to acceleration by gravity up to the point they splat against the floor. It was sometime in the early 1800’s when the practice of using live felines was abandoned.

During the day, lots of cat orientated stuff happens around the town; cake stalls are laden with chocolate cats, shops sell all sort of cat related merchandise and wherever you look you see kids dressed up as cats. The day’s biggest event has to be the main parade, the Kattenstoet which culminates in the belfry Cat-astrophe (sorry couldn’t resist).

As more of a dog person and when I compare it to other events at Belgian locations I’d witnessed, I wasn’t too impressed by the whole thing but guess if you are a cat lover or indeed a crazy cat lady then on the given Sunday, I’m sure like the residents of Ypres, you too would find the whole day just Purr-fect 🙂

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About Rob

If you want to know more about what goes on in the chemical soup that I call a brain then have a trawl through my blog where my life to a degree is unveiled. Enjoy my life - I'm trying to. Rob
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2 Responses to Pussy Galore

  1. Eleenie says:

    I always remember Belgium as being the place where I almost choked to death on a piece of toast smothered with pate! Not good, but on a lighter note and toasted bread aside, Hasselt was a gorgeous place to visit!

    • Rob says:

      Dive Bombing Cats, Murderous Pate…sounds to me like a perfect case for Mr Poirot. Now if only Agatha was still alive I’m sure there’d be a novel in there somewhere – who’d have ever thought Belgium could be such a dangerous place 🙂

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