8.00: So apparently I'm in Dampoort. There's a map outside the station- Dampoort is on the other side of the city to where I need to be (i.e- Sint-Pieters). There doesn't appear to be any bus stops about, so I've got to get a train. Car-coach-ferry-coach-train. On zero sleep. This is like,hardcore travelling! This trip is insanely long, but I really don't mind- it genuinely feels like I've come here to see an old friend, somehow. I've not been on a Belgian train before- they're absolutely huge. This one's going to Ostend (I love Ostend) but it only takes 5 minutes to get to Sint-Pieters, and it only costs €1,70. Does any train trip in the UK cost less than a tenner?
11.00: Wow, Ghent is a lovely town. It really reminds me of Lübeck, with its canals and buildings that make me think of gingerbread houses. Some parts remind me of Flensburg too, which brings back very welcome memories. I nip into St Bavo Cathedral (wonderfully gothic as are many churches in Flanders) to have a word with the Big Man before deciding what to do next. The plan before I came here was to go on a boat trip down the canal, lazy people's sightseeing basically. But I still need to eat, get back to Sint-Pieters to pick up my luggage and get to Heuvelpoort...Oh look, there's a Fnac....
12.00: I'm at Faits Divers on Korenmarkt being served by a waiter who bears a resemblance to Tim Schou. He probably doesn't, it's just that I'm really tired and really hungry so I'm not thinking straight. On an aside though, Belgian men really are very attractive on the whole. And very well dressed.The one culinary thing I wanted to try this weekend is a Dame Blanche, a dessert I've seen on countless Belgian menus that's like a fudge sundae. Of course, I've picked the one place that doesn't do it. They don't have any desserts. But never mind, because they do have steak. They have the best steak I've tasted ever. A tram rumbles past. I'm pretty sure there's a massive picture of Tom Boonen on the side of it. But I am still tired.13.00: There's loads of work going on around Sint-Pieters station and the bus system is really confusing, but I make it to my B&B only 10 minutes late.I'm staying at Sparrow's Nest which is owned by a lovely lady called Linda. My room is absolutely beautiful- I have a huge bath, a huge bed with one of those memory foam mattresses, and a chandelier! The Ghent Film Festival has been on this week and so it's been nigh on impossible to find somewhere to stay. I've got lucky :)
16.45: After a quick sleep, I nip down to Delhaize supermarket for supplies. Very disappointing, there are no silly brand names to add to my collection. I go back home and panic when I can't open the front door. You don't want to know how long I stand there trying for. Linda is 30 minutes away from Ghent when I call her, but comes back straight away to let me in. This is enough time for me to imagine several scenarios in which I've broken the lock, we have no way of getting in, I've left my cardigan upstairs, and oh my God, the show starts in 2 hours! I dreamt a couple of nights ago that I was late and missed half of it, this dream's going to come true! Linda opens the door in one go. You've got to turn the key and the knob at the same time apparently.
18.00: I'm in the bath with the radio on and eating Belgian chocolate coins. This is what life's meant to be like isn't it?
19.00: The Minard Theatre is about 10 minutes from Heuvelpoort, so I leave at 7pm with plenty of time to spare. Or not. Heuvelpoort is a bit of a bus hub and there are several stops with the same name, and I go to all of them before finding the right one. Of course I've missed the bus now, and the next one isn't til 19.30. THE DOORS OPEN AT 19.30!!! I'd not banked on it being so dark, so this, coupled with the fact I've not looked at/been able to locate a map, means that I miss my stop. The next one is about 500m away and I can't remember my way back. I start to run. I can't have that dream come true. Because if that comes true, who knows what other weird figments of my unconscious mind will become reality?! I mean, I once dreamt I was doing a jigsaw puzzle with Kim Jong-Un...I feel like Anneka Rice on Treasure Hunt running around. Thank God I'm wearing my comfy Swedish boots. In total, I ask 6 people how to get to the theatre- literally all of them pointing me in different directions. Finally, a wonderful lady who's standing outside a shop and looks like she's been put there for this very purpose tells me where it is, and even walks me there. Christ, I must have looked really panicked.

