I type this in the hotel lobby while waiting for the train just across the street that will take me to Brussels. The conference closed at 13, I had sandwiches with my colleagues and then set out again for the countryside south of town to grab me a geocache. On the Mergel ridge I saw a motte (an 11th/12th century fortification mound), and I suppose the remains of its bailey might also have been visible if I had entered the pasture it sits in. I’ve only seen one of those before, in Oxford.
Then I crossed the Jeker stream on a foot bridge by a mill and entered farmland. Apple orchards, pastures full of cows, vineyards, fields of maize and sugar beets. And at St. Lambert’s spring I finally found what I had been looking for, signed the little book, grabbed an effigy of Homer Simpson that wanted to travel, and returned to town on tired feet.
Stocking up on food for the afternoon and evening, I bought some of the famed local Limburg cheese as well. I’ve never had it before, but it seems to be potent stuff. I was scanning the display at the super market for something slablike or brickish, but when I found the Limburger the largest package turned out to be just a small 200 g cube. Breakfast tomorrow, and damn the consequences.
Update next morning: Airport security agrees: Limburger is a potential safety risk, so they confiscated it. Instead I bought some Chimay, which is nice but very mild.