Happy Holidays

Brussels is cold in winter and usually it rains.

That happens in all seasons, but at least in winter it makes sense, which, for a land in which nothing is logic, is quiet the achievement.



For a Christmas lover like myself the market in Square St Katrien still holds its magic and I try to go there each year.



It is a starting point for your own Christmas, not the one of the food slaughter, of the due presents and of the obligatory toasts.



If you, as me, still have good memories of that particular season of the year it is the moment to close your eyes, to control your breath and search inside yourself

Search for that smell of pine and cinnamon, that cold broken by your warm house walls, the sound of laughters and the light of the candles reflected in the eyes.

It is the moment to search for the one that you love.

Even if you know that you did not give them all you had this year, it does not matter, go to them and let them know that you're happy to have spent a year in their company and happier that you will be able to spend one more.

It is the moment to close the world outside and, in that deafening silence, look inside yourself, and find that, be it as it may be, there is at least one person that wants to stand by you in that cold winter night.

Open your eyes and go.




That person is waiting for you.



Merry Christmas to all of you.

Intermission!

Reading this blog you may be under the impression that I'm some kind of Monk, sleeping eating, decorating when I'm not working.

Nothing falser than that and if I was as such, considering I live in one of the more party going town in the world, that would be an unforgivable sin.

Finding a way to spend the night is not difficult and, in fact, you only have the problem of choosing, so this is how I treated myself with a good Party

St Nicklaus.

A party for St Nicklaus? why not :)

What? It IS his fest no?

Nath's Radio organized a huge party yesterday night and I thought it was a perfect way to spend the evening.

Nath is one of the more beloved members of my Brussel's family and if she is in need of help " no" is not even considered an option.

So since a couple of years, each time the radio organizes this event I'm behind the bar through the night.

I have fun, I spend a different evening, I dance, I drink (not much in fact, being behind the counter somehow dampens your passion) and watch funny events unfold.

So, around 23, as I promised, I entered the Pathe palace ready to rumble.

HA! Tom Cruise can kiss my butt!

Tactical Briefing

Party opens always at 20 and till 23 you do not pay to enter (allowing thus a huge number of people to enter already the party) thus when I arrive at 23 the party is already in its full swing.




There are two dance floors, the first is the one at the basement were the bar is.

There I spend my night and the music is a mix of classic dance with some disgression to Rock, Punk, Ethno, Garage, Reggae, world and all that jazz.




First floor is a more modern kind of dance hall with a mix of Techno, Trance, Speed, Goth, so, long story short , all the kind of music that gives to a disco a bad reputation.

The floor console is placed right of the bar counter and this allows for two things.

First, we can give our thirsty Dj's something to drink, second one is that you get your ears well and thoroughly drummed.

When I leave the Palace at 6 AM I'm that deaf that I have to take extra care on the streets going home (I swear that if a truck came at me I would not be able to hear it ^_^).

To pay for your drinks you pay using special tickets that are to be bought at the ticket boot, first floor. This fact is quiet important because I assure that I spend a third of my night sending back people that arrive to the bar and want to pay with money.

They protest, huff, puff, swear, curse, then climb the stairs, get the bloody tickets and order like everyone else . Oh the humanity...

We work in a team trying not to trow too much fluids at each other nor step on each other's feet on a floor that, going on with the night, becomes unbelievably sticky ( I once saw a barman fall flat on his nose, she got glued to the floor).

Around 4 the floor is so sticky you fight to walk, from the other side, gum of your soles have an aderence that would make an indy pilot jealous.

Customers are your best clock, from their faces and reaction you can understand what time it is more precisely that using your watch: between one and two in the morning they start to falter, around three they hesitate a second in giving you the tickets ( they are considering which of the three hands is the right one) .

At five they directly put the tickets on the floor ( Bloody counter moved, I swear mate) and after six they are in such state that even beer has a second of repulsion before surrendering and passing their gullet

Girls are even sweeter, when the party is starting they smile while ordering, later the night they offer their... Ah... Huge tracts of land a bit too liberally and in the morning they just put their proud chests on the counter and pretend a barrel of beer in exchange of a single ticket because they are giving you the otpion to look-but-not-touch.

B- cup? C-Cup?.... D-cup!!

Couples are a particular case though, if one of the two gets drunk before the other you have one of the behaviour I just listed.

That said if they arrive to synchronize themselves, in front of the counter you suddenly find yourself in the middle of Inspiration point.

Problem is that they cannot really control their bodies at this point and thus you assist to scenes like the one yesterday night in which I saw some guy making out with his beloved one and losing it, drooling all over her gray pullover.

She has looked at him for a second, repeated to herself that she loved him (took, I think, all of the three minutes she used) and decided to overlook the little incident.

Music

Radio Campus has seasoned veterans that never let you down.

Sadly Pierre was sick yesterday thus we missed him at the gears, that said there is a moment I look always forward to and it is when my friend Tristan, aka Dj Xogn ( You cannot pronounce that? Who cares?! HE IS GOOD!)

Koulgraouuuuul! :)

Tristan is not your average Dj, his music is full of rythm certain, but rarely it is plain dance music.

He puts together a mix of rock, pop, ethnic and God only knows what else in such a skilled way that you do not find strange that you're dancing to a senegalese music followed by the Clash then Screaming Jay Hawkins to end up with soul music ( Soul? BLOODY HELL! I'M DANCING SOUL??).

After he is over it is almost impossible that the floor is relaxed and it was a mortal sin that after that yesterday night he gave us an exceptional workout some random gal opened her Mac book, connected to the console and gave us some trashy techno jam session that would not have been out of place in a belching competition.

Floor got gradually empty as people bought their drinks, and left the room searching for some good music.

Meanwhile the idiot was completely lost in her self creation and did not care whatever happened.

I had the longest hour and half my entire life and have to admit that never, NEVER in my life I went so close to ( pardon my french) shit on a Mac book.

Curtain call.

Thanks to said idiot, evening ended quicker than usual and around five, me, Fred and Nath decided that we had enough of that and left.

I arrived home, hungry, tired, with aching feet, stinking like an ash tray (no smoking allowed in pubblic places? Let me laugh) deaf and in need of a shower more than of air.

It is always good to take part to a good party :)

To next year!