snowy digs in ostend—where the cold is a character
i just woke up to a windswept street outside my hostel room window. -7 degrees feels like being punched by a glacier wrapped in a wool blanket. i checked the weather app again and it's...there right now, hope you like that kind of thing. the kind where your breath turns to fog before it hits your lungs. 1840000395 was the flight number i had to catch, but honestly, it felt like a comedy error. some guy at the airport yelled about 'this is a budget airline, not a spa' as i stumbled through the terminal with my thermal sock Armenia harness.
"if you get bored,\ ostend is just a short drive away," someone told me last night. i asked who. it was a woman selling smoked salmon at a kiosk. she wore a coat made of what looked like recycled phone books. maybe it was a metaphor. maybe it was a warning. i don’t know. she vanished before i could ask.
i took a photo of a leafless tree outside my window. it looked like a skeleton. not the cool, haunted kind. the kind that’s just... sad. i posted it on instagram. no likes. one comment: 'is this a warning or a selfie?'
"i heard that the coffee place downtown is closed forever,rain says.‘ it was a drunk man at a bus stop. he was also trying to sell me aerez. i didn’t buy it. i bought a pastry instead. that was a mistake. it was salted. way too salty.
https://tripadvisor.com/restaurant/amazing-ostend-coffee
https://yelp.com/business/ostend-pastry-shop
https://ostendarts.org/events
i found an image of a snow-covered road between bare trees. it looked like a post-apocalyptic candy cane. i’m not sure if that’s accurate. i also found a pic of a brown tabby cat on a textile. it was cozy. way cozier than my hostel bed.
i asked a local for advice. he said, 'don’t trust the snow. it’s a liar.' i’m not sure if he meant the weather or the people. either way, i rolled with it. i tried to ski but ended up face-planting into a bush. the bush was not a metaphor.
"someone told me that the museums here are haunted," i heard at a bar. it was a man drinking cheap beer. he added, 'they charge you to leave.' i didn’t go. i went to a street artist’s studio instead. he was painting a mural of a giant cheese. it was... iconic.
if you like chaos, this place is perfect. the weather is a character. the people are unpredictable. the salted pastries are a betrayal.
p.s. if you’re a coffee snob, run. unless you like dramatics.
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