In memorial of Payt by Bas

Payt was my buddy; he was a warm friendly social dynamic guy who enjoyed the simple things in life. In his approach to people he was open, funny and without attitude. He created a nice group of friends, family and colleagues around him and always stayed in touch. Payt was a perfectionist who worked hard, was very loyal and had his things prepared. People loved him because of his humanness and his wide interest in cultures, habits, food (especially cheese) and places.

I met Payt in Italy (Milan) when he worked for us in the H3G project. He was able to solve things and get along with the customer easily. We both had respect for each other’s job and went out for dinner one night. That night we ate Tuscan food in Ristorante Dalla Zia in Milan. We both got along pretty well and went for a drink in anear bar. The thing I remember was that we were laughing the whole night and had a great conversation. I worked with Peter since and we became very good friends over the years.

Payt was my soul mate and we shared lot of things together.

Payt was a pure and simple guy. He wasn’t impressed by material possessions; he couldn’t care less. He was able to lead and cheer a group as friend, manager and coach. People never felt a distance to him and folks often surrounded him. What I admired in Peter was that he was very social and really kind. He always went the extra mile for me not only at work but especially in private matters. With Payt as a friend you always knew there was somebody besides you, somebody you could rely on or ask for advice. When I was house-bound due to a knee surgery he came to visit me in Rome several times to catch up. I really appreciated this.

And spending time with Payt was guaranteed fun.

In July 2007, Payt and I went out in Rome. We started with a great Italian dinner (Payt veggies of course) with a nice Barolo. After two bottles we thought to have a beer on Piazza Navona but ended up in a street where there wasn’t beer so we started to drink caparinha’s. But at 02:00 the pub closed and we had to go home…so we walked back to the car and passed a discotheque. I wanted to impress Payt (in my city) so talked us inside by chatting with the bouncer and skipped the line. We were laughing all the time and Payt started to introduce himself to everybody in the joint. We were standing in a narrow corridor and everybody who passed got a hand of Payt. The situation became hilarious because he didn’t stop and introduced himself (“Hello my name is Peter!”) again and again to the same people. At a certain point he asked me how well I was in fighting because he had the feeling to get smacked in the face very soon. We laughed and left the building early morning… Unfortunately we couldn’t find the car any more and after two hours walking through downtown we decided to take a taxi which we had to do in the first place of course but we weren’t that clear at that point. Around 07:00 we arrived at my home and discovered that Peter had to leave because his plane was leaving at 08:15 or something… It was one of the best nights out in my life and I will never forget the fun we had that evening.

Not only his funny behaviors but also his stories cracked me up.

In February 2008, Payt and I went for a golf weekend in Barcelona. At that time the tumor was already recognized and he was waiting for his surgery to remove the tumor. We played on a small golf course. Payt hadn’t played for almost twenty years but was able to get around pretty well. He told me the story why he quit golfing. When he was living in Japan he played golf one day and wasn’t in a good shape. His balls were flying everywhere and he got frustrated and more frustrated each hole. At a certain point he lost his temper and wacked the golf clubs in the pond! He was so angry with himself that he quit playing straight away; he had enough of it! When he told me the story tears of laughter were rolling over my face. What an incredible guy…

Besides good laughter we of course had long and serious talks about his illness that weekend.

We always easily switched between serious and fun topics in our conversations. As we say in Dutch; “a laugh and a tear go hand in hand together”. Payt’s ability to simplify complex matters combined with good recommendations helped me out in many cases. I’m grateful for his wise advice and insight in life matters.

Payt wanted to be in control all the time but unfortunately his illness wasn’t something he could manage. He fought for two years and was optimistic most of the time but it was a long and unfair battle. His body was ill while he wanted to live and finish the things he started. He wanted to finish his “to-do list of life” and to recover from the cancer but it didn’t work out that way. We had many conversations about the end and his death, which was sometimes difficult to accept. The last conversation I had with him was on the 5th of October 2009 at his bed where we discussed the “last mile”. He told me, he was done with his life, he was tired…very tired. At first when the cancer was discovered he was scared to die…he couldn’t accept that this was it. He was too young; he still had so many plans. But he won the battle; he walked up the mountain and reached the summit. He overcame his fear of dying and got in peace with himself. He told me that walking downhill (actual dying) was just a logistical little problem… We said goodbye to each other and I knew this was the last time I would see him alive. My buddy was done with his beautiful life and he did it his way. I will seriously miss him! I deeply respect him.

Bas Lemmens, Australia

Farewell to Peter by Marcus

I first met Peter during a Godelinde high-school camp. We slept in tents, Peter sharing with a fellow student, Eddy. Peter had brought along a self-made, very loud alarm which ran on batteries. We had a full schedule with several assignments and games. But there was also a free morning. This particular morning Peter switched on his alarm, hid it very well and left the campsite. The noise sent the rest of the group mad and they had to look for the damned alarm. My interest was aroused, who was this crazy, irritating boy.

We shared classes for two years. We had to write our reports of the chemistry experiments at home and hand them in at school. Peter and I made a sport of returning these reports in as funny a way as possible. At first we were careful and used a lot of wrapping paper and tape but we became cheekier. Peter once made a plaster cast of the report and returned it as a solid piece of plaster. Our teacher, Jaap Noordeloos, could appreciate the joke. After he had checked the report he returned it in a most original way; in a pipe-tobacco can – soldered shut.

At the Godelinde high school Peter started writing letters for Amnesty. He was interested in the charity but it was also a way to please our Dutch teacher, Rob Perrée. Peter kept on writing, not only for Amnesty. This is how he made contact with Mon Ling at the end of the 70’s. His dear wife with whom he had a good life. Peter often told me this. Also the last two years she took care of Peter in a wonderful way. Peter’s interest in language kept growing and he became a real purist. When I once used the Dutch word “uitnutten” he really laughed at me. For years I was teased with this word. English became his second native language. Look at his blog which he’s transformed into a true work of art.

Our great mutual hobby was automating a Märklin model railroad. Decorating it with little houses etc. wasn’t important at all. We tried to organize it so that several trains could travel without running into each other. This model railroad was in the attic of Peter’s parents’ house. We spent days soldering and programming. Now and then we had a break and walked Kevin, their dog, around the “Vesting wallen” and afterwards straight back to the attic to carry on. Sometimes we felt hungry in the middle of the night. We went downstairs, cooked some vegetables and had a late dinner. Vegetarian of course, he was that as long as I knew him, another of Peter’s ideals. His parents approved of all this, and always supported him in his adventures.

Cats were Peter’s big love, Tora was his favourite Tomcat. As a student I rented a room and had two cats. Peter and I thought of a plan to make a real cat tree. A tree-trunk with bark to sharpen their nails on. And with 2 levels where they could jump off and on. First we went to the woods during daytime to choose the right tree-trunk, but we didn’t dare bring it home during daylight. So we went back at night and once we managed to find it we had to work out how to get it home, we were on our bikes. Balanced on my carrier and on Peter’s handle-bars we cycled out of the woods, luckily without meeting any oncoming traffic or police! The next day we found we couldn’t get it up the stairs. After many attempts, each time sawing off another part, we managed to get it into my room. When it was finally finished the cats didn’t take any notice of it. If we put them on they just jumped off straight away ignoring it completely.

Another hobby of ours was music. Our idea of playing together, Peter on the guitar and I on the piano never happened, but we often went to concerts together. On Peter’s 23rd birthday we were in Rotterdam at the Pandora’s box festival, where we listened to The Durutti Column in the middle of the night. Another time we went to Paradiso to the Dutch Group WAT but this had more to do with the beautiful female lead singer than the music. We also developed an interest in classical Music. When I visited Peter in Prague we went to Mozart’s requiem. Peter also loved opera, especially Puccini’s Turandot.

Our deal was to try to see each other every week. This promise was hard to keep even before Peter went abroad. It would be just like him to call me just before our appointment to apologize for not being able to come because of a very important business meeting. Workaholic is an understatement, Peter wanted to reach the top, he was a perfectionist. He did reach the top literally, by climbing the Tatra mountain in the Czech Republic but more importantly by starting up his own company. Something he was very proud of, and he has every reason to be.

Also in sports Peter wanted to perform exceptionally. We played together in a table tennis team, also with his sister Marjolijn. But when he thought he didn’t perform to the maximum…, he just quit. The Japanese company in Amstelveen where he worked for a while organized an annual softball tournament. To do his best to prepare he invited me and also his parents to practice in the park on Sunday mornings. Later on we ended up playing snooker, I often had to seize the cue out of his hands before he had the chance to break it. I was too late for the golf clubs; he broke them on his knee out of pure frustration and anger after – according to him – a poor performance.

The last 2 years he was ill. Peter really had bad luck with his health, heart surgery in his late teens, skin disease (psoriasis), rheumatism and finally a brain tumor. In July this year we went together to France and Belgium for a long weekend, a wonderful trip. Peter had prepared every detail; he wanted to go to the swamps of Clairmarais and the North French coast. For the outward trip he had spotted a ship elevator at Fontinettes, a mighty piece of engineering. He got very angry with himself because he thought he had forgotten the charger for his film camera. It wasn’t until he was back home that he found it had been in his luggage after all. Luckily both our cameras worked properly and we took lots of pictures.We stayed in a very luxurious hotel in Boulogne sur Mer with jucuzzi, hammam and sauna. When we found out that the Hammam and sauna didn’t open until 2 pm Peter asked them to open them early next morning so we could use them even before breakfast. Always go for the maximum, that’s my boy.

The evening before his death, Mon Ling, his parents, Marjolijn, Gilbert and I were together with him. We had some Italian delicacies which Peter enjoyed very much. I went upstairs to get a knife for the cheese but Peter was already busy “cutting” it with a cocktail stick. When I gave him the knife he refused, he managed perfectly well with the stick. Pig-headed as always.

Last week I repaired his outdoor light. I had to smile to myself, thinking of Peter watching me struggling with screws he had fixed so tightly.

Peter made quite a fool of me with his speech at my wedding. I got his approval, even his mandate, to reply today. But I’m not the stand up comedian he was. I will miss my dearest friend tremendously but I will take an example from his love of life, his fun and his courage.

Few words for the party in memory of Peter on 08 November 2009

30 years and 5 months ago we exchanged our first letters, 25 years and 11 months ago we met each other in Japan for the 1st time. 23 years and 7 months ago we got married. Since, 8600 days we have been through thick and thin (as said in Dutch “door dik en dun”). We must have had wonderful life because I could only say: how time flies!

Peter has left me for 3 and half weeks. I always believed that I could manage to be alone because he went business trip almost every week before he became ill. But now I realized it’s very different. Before I could just call his mobile, I could reach him immediately wherever he was. Now he will never pick up his mobile anymore.

For me these 3 and half weeks is a period full of tears. Does unhappy time pass slowly? If it does I’ll become aged slowly then. Maybe it’s not too bad.

Before his departure, I asked him to let me know by sending signals if he has been freed. The signals are either let me see the wind blows through trees or let me hear birds’ singing. I got the 1st signal early morning of the next day, and I got the 2nd signal one week later. Peter did keep his promise to me.

Luckily in this country it will never be short of wind. I’m still receiving his endless signal and I can always feel he is around me, every where and every moment. Peter, can you see that I have my hair cut short. I know you won’t like it, but don’t worry, my hair grows very fast.

And our promises to each other, I also do my best to keep it: no sorrow, no worries, no fear and no regret. Sometimes it’s too difficult for me to keep it. But I order myself to live fully and happily for him because that’s what he wanted me to do.

I’m OK I just miss him very much. His smell at home is disappearing everyday but everything reminds me of him. When I went cycling I followed the route we went 8 weeks ago. 8 weeks ago (13 September) we were cycling along Sloterplas, passing by the front side of Opium. When I watched a TV program “Spoorloos” I had to think about that we watched it together before. When I was driving a car I thought that he used to drive me to every place where I wanted to go, he could drive from Amsterdam to Milan within 10 hours. I was awake in the morning and thought it’s the time he should take his medicine. When I went shopping I chose the foods he liked. He is still in the centre of my life. Eric Jan said that now I’m a nurse without a patient.

I like to thank all the friends who sent me cards, phoned me or posted comments on Peter’s blog. Those cards and comments are so warm so touched. Peter was loved by everybody and was appreciated by everybody. I was always moved to tears while reading them and I doubted whether Peter was an angel who made a short trip to our world ? My tears are just like running water from a broken tap. I lost so many tears that my sister in law Marjolijn suggested that I should eat more salt……

If anyone knows something negative about Peter, please let me know. Then I’ll be able to miss him less.

A wonderful and brave person has left us

In the text mentioned below, Monling have described the last weeks of their life in a moving manner.

“Peter has departed on 15 October 2009. He had been fighting for almost 2 years, he never wanted to give up but he was so tired.

Mid. of September through early October there’re more than 2 weeks’ time Peter lost part of memory. He didn’t know he’s ill, he didn’t remember those surgeries he underwent, he forgot everything related to his illness. He was very bright and had no fear, no worries. I wished that he could have kept on forgetting till his last moment. But in his mind pieces of a puzzle were gradually completed and on 07 October I realized that he could see the full picture while we were visiting a psychologist and how surprised I was because he was still so calm and so peaceful. He told the psychologist that he has finished and he’s ready to out of the life. He said the same to our general practitioner (GP) next day, he also said that his life now is nothing but only waiting for the death.

At the beginning of last year Peter had declared to our GP his wish of euthanasia under circumstance while any further treatment will only lead to unbearable and hopeless suffering. He didn’t get any medical treatment after the 9th chemo therapy except taking Dexamethasone (I call it “doping”). He started it on 21 September but his physical condition was obviously going backwards since one week. We knew he’ll suffer from unbearable pain when Dexamethasone can’t help him anymore. He again declared his wish. We watched each other and I asked him:

Do you have sorrow?
No. said by him.
Then I have no sorrow, either.

Do you have regret?
No. said by him.
Then I have no regret, either.

Do you have fear?
No. said by him.
Then I have no fear, either.

He had made his decision. 2 years’ fighting is his being kind and being considerate to all the people he loved, but he was tired, he wanted to be freed. I should let him go.

We enjoyed every moment of these last few days, he ate lots (Dexamethasone made him always hungry), we talked about our vacations and many funny or silly things we did, we discussed my future, etc. How glad I am to be able to again communicate with him at last.

He was clear and peaceful until last moment. No sorrow, no regret, no fear, no worries”.

Peter was unable to win the battle against his illness, but he kept the control until the end. We have made a new page in memoriam http://cranius.wordpress.com/in-memoriam/ on this blog. On this page you can react or by mail payt2009@live.nl.

October 4, 2009
At the request of Peter and Monling we write again on his blog to explain his situation. That is not simple. Everything is considerably uncertain….

On 27 august Peter started the ninth chemotherapy. It maked him considerably sick. He had heavy head pain and he didn’t want to eat or take a shower. Probably there was too much fluid in his brain, as a result of which he reacted this way and he got Dexamethasone prescribed.

On 23 September Peter had several researches in the VU. On the photograph, which was made of his head, a small white spot was visible beside the tumor. The specialists do not know what this spot is and they want to wait how this will develop further. Never ever quit! But a new heavy operation in the VU, an operation (DCVax) in Leuven, a tenth chemotherapy or another medical intervention are not judicious. Therefore the oncologists had decided on Monday 28 September that they cannot treat Peter any further. They prescribe Dexamethasone, so that Peter’s functions are improving.

One moment Peter is very clear, the other moment he withdraws himself in his own world. He enjoys enormously the visit of many friends and colleague. According to us (Gilbert & Marjolijn) he understands much of what we say, but he is not always able to react. This makes him not visible sadly, but isn’t he a master in hiding his emotions.

Nobody knows how this is going further. If there are important developments, then we will communicate this immediately.

La Piccola Sara Classic

La Piccola Sara with Steam

Since the 1st of September 2005 I’m the proud owner of a simple but very reliable espresso and cappuccino machine. It’s really a simple machine and worked without ever failing. I got the machine from my wife as a present for my 45th birthday so it means a lot to me. The unique feature is that it contains two pumps, one for steam and one for coffee.

I don’t feel like a “barista” because I ‘feed’ my machine only coffee pads, not freshly grounded coffee beans. I especially like the dark roasted ‘Illy Black Label’ and the slightly milder ‘Blue Smart’. But about one week ago my espresso machine lost it’s appetite for these pads. It always grumbles a bit to me and if I use steam for a cup of cappuccino it hisses. But now it made a very loud noise, like the pump for espresso was broken or had run dry. I opened the water reservoir but there was plenty of water in it. I checked also the two little tubes for air bubbles. The one for coffee showed no movement of those bubbles.

I decided to call the shop where we bought it almost four years ago to ask where I should go for maintenance. The owner told me that the best I could do was to contact the importer directly (a more convenient address in Utrecht), he would repair my coffee machine immediately. Marcus took me to Utrecht in his car and after searching for a while we found the address. Once inside I looked immediately for the toilet and Marcus took my espresso machine of almost 10kg to have it repaired. When I came back from the toilet I was greeted by a gruffy man who stared at my blue helmet. At a certain moment he asked “What can I do for you?” in not a very way.  I realized that he didn’t make the connection between Marcus and me so I explained that I was the actual owner of the espresso machine. That reassured him visibly.

He explained to me that I had made a mistake. The tube with the huge water filter was not at all for coffee but for steam. The little tube was for coffee! Didn’t I know that for espresso the ideal water temperature lies between 88 and 92 degrees Celcius? And that therefore it never comes to the boil? To steam milk it’s another story: that water needs to be softened to keep your machine in perfect working order. Hence the huge water filter. Ahhhhhh …. I said, that’s why!

He took my espresso machine to the back and we followed him. He fixed my machine to his own water reservoir and made a few cups of coffee. He asked me what coffee I normally used and so I told him that I preferred the dark Illy for espresso and Blue Smart for the occasional cappuccino. Wrong answer! Didn’t I know that he was sole importer not only for the la Piccola brand but also for Jolly Cafe? I told him that I ordered my through the Internet but that I remembered that when I bought my espresso machine I got a huge box with Jolly cafe for free. And because I got annoyed with this man I added “I don’t like Jolly cafe so much, it’s not strong enough for me”!

Because the temperature in the room had suddenly dropped we decided to leave. We thanked the man (he wanted no money for his services) and took my espresso machine to the car. That evening I tried to make several cups of espresso. The loud sound was back although it produced a wonderful espresso! I told Marcus and he couldn’t believe what I told him. So tonight Marcus will pick me up from the RCA to listen for himself to the sounds of my espresso machine. To be continued!

Spending our Bongo in Schoorl

Bongo
We not only got a “hat box” full of delicious chocolate from Hendrik and Magda (please refer to my post Hendrik & Magda of the 20th of July) but also a “Bongo” for a dinner in a one-star restaurant. I left it up to my wife Monling to pick the restaurant. She selected hotel-restaurant Merlet in Schoorl because it is near to the sea (according to the brochure the daily fresh fish is either caught from the beach or from the fish-auction in Den Helder a few kilometers North). And above all it has also a few rooms for guests who don’t want to drive home at night.

De Rijp

So the day before yesterday (Monday) she took me via Graft-De Rijp (a beautiful small town, birthplace of the famous Leeghwater, see picture above) to Schoorl. De Rijp used to be the centre of whale hunting and was the birthplace of Leeghwater, the Dutch hero responsible for creating “new land” (our famous ‘Polders’). We walked the ‘main’ street but it as was blocked somewhere we decided to have lunch and a drink. After that Monling drove us to Schoorl.

Schoorl

The reception of Hotel-Restaurant Merlet

We checked in, went to our room and unpacked, had a bit of a rest (I sat on a tiny balcony) and then walked up onto the top of the “klimduin”, a steep hill of sand. We walked until we could see the sea far in the distance so we walked back via another route.

The tiny balcony of Hotel Merlet

One star dinner
Dinner was great. Monling had the fish menu and I had the vegetarian menu. It was more than delicious and the perfect view over the country side was certainly a bonus! Comprising five full courses it was definitely worth the value of the Bongo. Below you find pictures for some of the courses, for the remaining courses it was too dark to take pictures (even with flash).

Restaurant Merlet's one star dinner

Maroille
I had seen a waiter pushing a long cart with many kinds of cheese on it. I asked if I could change my desert for a cheese platter and that proved to be possible. And what did I see? The square reddish cheese called Maroille (refer to my post called “Day one: trip to France” of the 23rd of July) we (Marcus and I) were all the time looking for. What a coincidence!

Checking Out

The next day we walked through the centre of Schoorl, bought a few postcards and Monling made the beautiful pictures you can see in this post. Hendrik and Magda, you have given us such great and original gifts! Thank you very much the both of you!

Lunch with Eric-Jan and Sylvia

Our hosts L2R: Sylvia and Erik Jan

Eric-Jan and Sylvia invited us for a ‘Summer lunch’ in one of the restaurants of the hotel Okura. We had something quite different from last time (pls. refer to my post called “Japanese Lunch” dated the 1st of April 2009). Last time was our last business lunch together with Eric-Jan but this time it was pure pleasure. We had a nice table in the sun above a pond with an occasional koi carp swimming in it (which attacted at least one heron). Please refer to the pictures below that Monling took during this lunch! Beautiful aren’t they?

Day five: back to Holland

Reveille matin
The last day of our trip has arrived. Marcus had set his alarm for 08:00 this morning but “snoozed” his alarm three times for me. He made soup for me from the warmest tap water he could get and he helped me to take a shower if I had to reach for odd places. Afterwards I had to apply several creams to my skin. Then we had breakfast. I felt again sick and very weak and didn’t want to eat and drink at all. After a few swallows of tea and a few bites of bread I became that nauseous that I had to make a run for the toilet. Marcus was still eating his breakfast but now as quickly as he could.

We went back to room and I went to bed for an hour while Marcus took some pictures inside and outside our room. At half past 10 he woke me up to get dressed and packed and at 11:00 Marcus had checked out. We loaded the car with our bags and went straight home where I arrived at a quarter to two in the afternoon. After unloading and loading he drove his car out of our garage to prepare for his own trip home.

Wrap up
Marcus, I’m so grateful to you for this trip. First of all for making the effort to take me out of this house and giving Monling a chance to not have to take care of me. Believe me she appreciated it immensely. Secondly I considered this a try-out. I was right to be worried that I would be too tired from continuously travelling. Fortunately you didn’t follow a rigid schedule (as any other seasoned Black Belt would do) but allowed me to rest a few hours every day. But what I didn’t expect was that my energy reserves that I still had on day three were completely depleted. From that day on my energy didn’t come back and I became sicker by the day. I needed more than a full week to recover from the trip.

What I also didn’t expect was that Marcus and I became even better friends, (if at all possible) like brothers. I can’t decribe it better than Marcus did in an e-mail to me: “We had the unique opportunity to talk, to laugh, to take baths, to eat, to rest, to listen to each other and eachothers music and to have fun with eachother for five entire days.”. Thanks brother for this unique experience! Hopefully I may live still long enough to do it again.

Day four: Belgium (Leuven)

Reveille
We woke up at 8:00am and when I wanted to sleep a few minutes more Marcus simply pushed the snooze button again and again and again. I took a shower in a huge bathroom on a medical looking shower chair with Marcus assisting now and then. Marcus prepared my soup for me with warm water straight from the tap (because there was no boiling water available), the creme ritual and then dress. The breakfast was of great quality (5 star) comprising champagne, crêpes (pancakes), scrambled eggs and fried eggs, sausages and mushrooms (the well known full English Breakfast). It was delicious. After an hour we went back to the room.

Abdij van ‘t Park

Marcus had planned a trip to the nearby “Abdij van ‘t Park” (Abby of the Park) to see and especially hear the Sunday morning mass. We could only reach it by riding cross country because of road constructions. I don’t know whether Marcus was serious or not but he dared not to get into the Abby. The door was also closed so we didn’t know if mass had already started. We did however walk around to see the the main and the supporting buildings, the ancient graves and the pigeon house (see picture). There also was a muddy lake behind the Abby.

Diest

Then we went straight to Diest, a small town close to Leuven. My mother and a girlfriend of her went to this city by bike just after WWII (1954). They stayed with an aunt of either my mother or this girlfriend (so she told us in a text msg-conversation). We learned by experience that the town center of Diest is on Sundays the central gathering place for all local (surprisingly well behaving) Harley Davidson riders. Marcus is sitting on what we believed to be the local Town Hall stairs (see photo above).

We had coffee with pastries in a cafe, then took a walk around (and in) the local church and then sat down again at the corner of the two main streets of Diest. Diest is a small city indeed. We took our time to order and when we finally did each of us ordered a “baguette”, for Marcus with ham and “groentjes” and for me with cheese. The order was taken by a sweet little girl (according to Marcus). I asked him how he knew but I never got a proper answer :-). We went back to Leuven to let Marcus finish a pocket by Maigret while sipping a beer (Rochefort) and me to have a 2-hour nap.

Back in the centre of Leuven

At 19:00 we went to the centre of Leuven again. We walked around on the “Groote Markt” (Large Market) and on the “Oude Markt” (Old Market). We watched the people passing by while sitting on a terrace and drank something.

Dinner in a Sicilian restaurant
We decided to grab a bite but because I didn’t feel well (I also was very tired) and I suggested that the most safe option for me was the Sicilian Italian Restaurant we found in between the hotel and the center. We went to that restaurant and I fell immediately in love with “mamma”. Such a typical Sicilian woman. Marcus and ordered the same: ravioli filled with truffles with a sauce of fungi porchini.

The food was delicious until the moment I felt a fried maggot in my mouth. The kind of small maggots you can find in old fungi porcini (I regonized them at once because I lived in Rome for a while and often went the market to buy fresh fungi porchini). After that experience I didn’t fancy my food anymore. Marcus however finished his plate, such a Tiger. We asked for the bill and had coffee in the hotel in the still warm night (al fresco).