Eurostar is off the hook, brill. It takes less time to travel from London to Brussels
than from London to Manchester. A charming Canadian meets me at the airport. He
was Head of English at the British School of Brussels for thirty years. Teachers tend to stay at The British School. As the car drives into the most hospitable and green part of Brussels I understand why.
It is a private fee paying school. The surrounding area was commissioned by King Leopold. Next to the school is The African Museum, of which people seem both proud and
ashamed. The area, the roads and many of the buildings and parks were made from the money made through colonisation of the congo. I’m immediately introduced to a group of students who have translated my poems into Russian, Estonian, Lithuanian and many more languages. It’s quite surreal and wonderful.
It’s Book Week and I meet other British writers Adisa and Sue Mayfield who have been working hard giving talks and workshops throughout the week. Author Jackie Kay will be
arriving tomorrow. I give one performance to the students in the afternoon and one in the evening to the parents. It’s great reading from Listener, the new book, and the evening performance in particular goes down a storm. There is a purpose built theatre of the highest standard, with full lighting rig and sound and all. It’s back to the hotel, in the sleepy belgian town and to sleep.