On a Saturday night we meet at the Lebanese resto AL JANNAH in Rue Blaes 59 for a chitchat and some delicious food.
We move to La Samaritaine for Lola Bonfanti’s concert with the evocative title Avant la nuit dans la ville. She has got the voice, the enchanting stage presence and the songs. The cave-like venue creates a special atmosphere. There is a whole underground Brussels’ world, hard to guess or imagine, until you discover it. Bars, clubs, restaurants offer a different experience with their unexpected spaces. Maybe I should write a special post about this…But back to the event – what more could one ask for? The house ginger cocktail. No surprise we get the last drops of this refreshing liquid.
And then it’s the party time. The Saturday night fever time. Why am I not enthusiastic at all? But I let myself be convinced – at the end it’s Saturday night, totally inappropriate to go to bed at 22:30. And the Internations monthly party exceptionally takes place at Jeu d’Hiver, the popular, posh and hard to access club in Bois de la Cambre. However they have opened a special entrance for the Internations people, leading to another part of the club, well separated from the area for their selected members. Nevertheless it’s still chick and the huge windows open a view to the dark forest.
No matter how special the venues can be, these parties are all very similar. First the crowd. It can be generally divided into two groups: singles and cheaters. Then it can be further classified to those whom one can meet at any party and the newcomers. Furthermore there are those who still hope they might find the love of their lives tonight, “who knows”, and those who have less ambitious objectives and if skillful and/or lucky enough will actually achieve them.
And there is us, the Saturday-night-lovers. Dancing around our table in a respectable distance from the whole fever-thing and enjoying as much as one can enjoy something which feels like a serial déjà vu.
The air outside is fresh. Other people are having the usual small talk, all nice, easy-going, flirty…
On the way back we pass by the official Jeu d’hiver’s entrance and decide to take a look. “Sorry it’s only for club members”, the guard politely stops us. “And how can we become club members?” Not that I care. “A club member should invite you” “Can you invite us?” “Nooo I am not a club member”. The insiders stand in the garden behind the low fence having their drinks and cigarettes. And that’s the moment when a promising connaissance can be commenced over the fence which then may lead to an exciting development – getting an invite to become a club member. Huh another missed opportunity.
The night is already middle-aged. Hence can be concluded.
my private brussels 