This week’s unique selling point is that I read A Tall Man in a Low Land about three months ago, lent it to somebody, and can’t remember an awful lot about it, apart from that I was impressed.

It’s about a man (Harry Pearson) and his wife and child, who take an extended holiday in Belgium. They stay in various towns, and visit various others, and eat very well.

Pearson writes with affection for Belgium. There may or may not have been some family connection. He writes poignantly about the road to Flanders being historically one way for a lot of Brits. Belgium is not somewhere that you necessarily return from.

In the muddle of my memory, he didn’t like Charleroi. He said it’s not the kind of place you’d like to be after dark. He liked Liège. Brussels gets only a fleeting mention, and he suggests that the Walloons bring their dogs, under cover of darkness, to shit all over the capital before the sun comes up.

He leaves his baby daughter in the care of a museum curator, who then disappears with the baby, but has only gone into the garden. He recounts an anecdote told to him about the difference between the Dutch and the Flemish. (It involved Holland having only one type of cheese, that has made it famous all over the world, and Flanders having hundreds of cheeses and remaining obscure.)

There are cycling stories. In fact, I think the book may be the product of more than one trip to Belgium. If I had it in front of me I’d check.

Comparisons with Bill Bryson are inevitable, and Pearson holds his own. A very good book that I can remember more than one thing about.

Recommended.

and on closer inspection:

Doing a Lynndie entirely optional.

ghent isn’t only the city of good music like soulwax or isabelle adam, there is also a big population of pussies who didn’t survive in brussels. feel free to join them.

go see –> How to survive Brussels