Strange happenings in the state of Bruxelles

Well, last night was ok if you enjoy half-hearted lovemaking. Despite his passionate nature, Mr A could not get excited by an M&S 'all in one bodyshaper' however hard I tried. Well he did say 'spend the voucher on underwear' which I duly did, but it didn't meet his approval, more's the pity.

We enjoyed a late Sunday brunch on the Grand Place and I'm sitting here typing....I feel rather sleepy....

Have just awoken with a start, two black-clad gentlemen knocked at the door and duly escorted Mr A into the bedroom. They brought with them a length of cable (personally I thought it was co-axial broadband RG49)and some gaffer tape. Five minutes later I heard screaming......

I am signing off now and will press PUBLISH as soon as possible. PLEASE HELP ME!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I'M SO SORRY WILF......................

The Mannequin Pis festival

Yesterday I caught the Eurostar out of St Pancras and although I didn't enjoy a glass of champagne whilst travelling through urban areas as Brixton, as I did when I caught the train on a previous occasion (summer 2005), rest assured it was lovely. Mr A was waiting with a cheeky cardboard sign [Lady Margaret]when we reached Brussels Midi and soon whisked me away by taxi to his apartment in the Parc district of the city.

Mr A's European Commission funded apartment was splendid - there were portraits of former European Union Presidents adorning the wall and a signed picture of Jose Manuel Baruso in the bathroom. Mr A threw together a wonderful pasta dish for us both and we shared a bottle of Chateau Mersolet which had been gifted to him for producing a splendid brief a while ago.

We kissed briefly and went to our separate rooms.

On Saturday morning I awoke to Mr A's rendition of 'Rule Britannia' whilst he scrambled eggs and burnt the toast. At 11am we wandered down to the Grand Place to see the thronged crowds. There was a German Ooompah band plus 30 men dressed as Belgian heroes such as Hercule Poirot, Henri Pirenne and the gentleman that invented the saxophone.

We drank vast quantities of Belgian beer whilst dancing on the cobbles, it was truly magnificent. At 2pm the local mayor adored the statue with a Belgian flag across his torso and placed a crown on his head. The revelry continued until Mr A drunkenly said "I want you to come back to the apartment with me Margaret, as I've something special to show you."

Therefore I'm sitting in the living room awaiting Mr A's reappearance from the bedroom. Who knows what he's up to?

Doin' the Chelsea walk - oy!

I still have Emma's warning tones of 'don't do it' ringing in my ears as I type.

Anyway, I digress. Today Wilf took me out for a lovely afternoon out to the Sloane Square/Chelsea area. Firstly we lunched in the top floor restaurant of Peter Jones, over shepherds pie, a glass of wine and a sumptous dessert he regaled me of stories about the history of his double decker bus. I'd like to say that I was both interested and engaged, but that would be a total lie.

At 13:45 we met our tour guide outside Sloane Square tube and were treated to just over two hours of fascination. We saw such delights as the outside of the Royal Hospital, Chelsea, The National Army Museum (where Napoleon's horse Copenhagen is allegedly buried) and saw three sections of the Berlin Wall outside. It was wonderful to be able to see such houses as Oscar Wilde's, Dante Gabriel Rosetti's and Jane Asher's. I couldn't commend the walk higher and would recommend it to anyone.

I am starting to feel guilty about my weekend plans now.

A ticket, a map and a weekend away

Today was fairly uneventful until a package arrived in the internal post consisting of a first class Eurostar ticket (St Pancras - Brussels Midi), a map of the city showing the exact location of the Mannequin Pis festival. There was also an M&S voucher with an attached post-it note imploring me to 'spend it on underwear'. There was a signed letter from Mr A formally inviting me to his apartment in Brussels next weekend.

I am caught in a love triangle, I guess if you added Mr A's ex then it would be a rhombus. How exciting! Can I get away with it? I know Wilf's driving his bus around The Isle of Man next weekend to raise money for the unemployed bus conductors' charity, so I won't have to make an excuse to him...

Must call Emma and ask her advice.

The symposium of strangeness

In my Department we're proud to boast a 'symposium of strangeness' group which meets on the second Tuesday of every month downstairs in the suite of meeting rooms. I have been a member for a while (my stated strangeness being an obsession with collecting, counting and grading small change) but other colleagues have felt it beneficial to bring their idiosyncracies to the fore.

One of the members, for propriety sakes let's call him John Cheesecake, likes to talk to himself whilst in the toilet and clasp his hands behind his back whilst standing at the urinal. I suppose this isn't strange in itself, but he also feels the need to unravel toilet roll and deposit it in the corner of the room. He felt as if this behaviour has held him back from forming meaningful relationships both with colleagues and in his personal life. The group was supportive to John's plight and have arranged for him to set up an internet support group in his spare time.

Another member, let's call him Sebastian Boggis, likes to play 'pocket billiards' through his trouser pockets whilst whilstling 'God Save The Queen'. He is also obessed with cheddar cheese and owns a holiday cottage in Somerset to be near his favourite dairy product.

Life is strange, but I wouldn't have it any other way.

One night only...The Civil Service Club

Last night Wilf decided to treat me to an overnighter in the Civil Service Club, so we both took the afternoon off of work, booked in at 2pm and took advantage of their recent decision to change the sheets and blankets for duvets. I must say that duck down has never felt more luxurious :)

We went for an early dinner in the restaurant and both remarked how the food had improved in the last year or so. Apparently they sacked their last Head Chef because of 'unspecified unsavoury reasons' which I'd rather not go into, but sufficed to say it included a large marrow, some soft cheese and a large stick of celery. The dessert trolley always makes me giggle - it resembles a huge mahogany coffin on wheels, but it doesn't detract from the goodies contained within.

At 7:30 we embarked on the 'Secrets of The Thames' walk along the river which included such highlights as learning about the different wharves, spotting water birds and avoiding the various missiles a group of youths were throwing at us as we snaked along the embankment. Wilf remonstrated with one of the gang until they decided to leave us alone - sometimes I feel he should join the UN Peacekeeping Force - they'd really appreciate his negociation skills and could probably utilise hid double decker bus at the same time.

Breakfast was wonderful, although receiving a text message from Mr A inviting me along to a 'Celebration of the Mannequin Pis' event in Brussels was a little unexpected to say the least.....