The trip back to Belgium was a minor disaster. A logistic mistake on my part due to lack of attention to detail (go figure) resulted in about a 100 euro hit to the budget, as I stranded myself in a German town called Bremin, with the only option available being to buy a train ticket to Antwerp, forfeiting the dirt-cheap bus tickets I bought for my way back. Anyway, I made my way back, and upon arrival at the Antwerp train station,
rather than head directly to Bruges as planned, I called my landlord to check in on the status of the move-in date. He informed me that I could move in at the present if I so chose, but there was a catch: I had to make it by 4 pm.
Considering the condition of my bank account as well as myself, I decided to end my trip a couple days early and "get it together" in Leuven; a risk because: the next train to Leuven left at 2:46, so with the trip duration being one hour, it would be a real test of my athleticism to make it from the train station to Ivo's place by 4. If I missed him, I'd have to pay for a hostel anyhow, just not in Bruge which would've been wasteful in my opinion. Making it would require sprinting. With a suitcase. Through the town center. Like a moron. Amidst this struggle: I kept telling myself : "thirty to fifty euros saved, plus the comfort of your own space, you got this." Upon arrival, the vision of Ivo making a step into his wife's van to leave before seeing me still lingers; I made it by the skin of my teeth, totally exhausted, drenched, drenched, and likely quite smelly. I quickly dropped my things inside and hustled to the famers market to cop some much needed fresh produce before they closed. After getting some good deals on grapes, walnuts, almond flour, dried apricots, and broccoli; I made my back to my old stomping ground at the hostel and slipped behind the crowd of incoming visitors in line to check in, without the receptionist noticing (maybe) en route to the kitchen in order to recover my couscous and pasta. It made me smile to see them both still there, probably untouched, before I slipped out the back door. I'm a smooth criminal. As I returned to my apartment, I was REALLY hungry, but realized I had no pans to cook the stir fry I had in mind (as well as sheets and blanket for the mattress) so I decided to return to the vicinity of the hostel to use the wi-fi connection I had saved on my phone in order to email John, a post-doc theology student from Pittsburgh, to see if he could hook me up with some gear. Luckily, he got right back to me to tell me he could help, but he needed to leave in 30 minutes. So I scooted my desperate ass on over there and 41 minutes & 30 euros later I was walking back across town with as much as I could carry of the "bare essentials" stuffed into a garbage bag. The next couple days consisted of head-stirring-sorting-out of certain pragmatic issues such as apartment internet connection, , town registration, insurance,
bike parking, banking, storage-rental-closure, etc.
rather than head directly to Bruges as planned, I called my landlord to check in on the status of the move-in date. He informed me that I could move in at the present if I so chose, but there was a catch: I had to make it by 4 pm. 
Considering the condition of my bank account as well as myself, I decided to end my trip a couple days early and "get it together" in Leuven; a risk because: the next train to Leuven left at 2:46, so with the trip duration being one hour, it would be a real test of my athleticism to make it from the train station to Ivo's place by 4. If I missed him, I'd have to pay for a hostel anyhow, just not in Bruge which would've been wasteful in my opinion. Making it would require sprinting. With a suitcase. Through the town center. Like a moron. Amidst this struggle: I kept telling myself : "thirty to fifty euros saved, plus the comfort of your own space, you got this." Upon arrival, the vision of Ivo making a step into his wife's van to leave before seeing me still lingers; I made it by the skin of my teeth, totally exhausted, drenched, drenched, and likely quite smelly. I quickly dropped my things inside and hustled to the famers market to cop some much needed fresh produce before they closed. After getting some good deals on grapes, walnuts, almond flour, dried apricots, and broccoli; I made my back to my old stomping ground at the hostel and slipped behind the crowd of incoming visitors in line to check in, without the receptionist noticing (maybe) en route to the kitchen in order to recover my couscous and pasta. It made me smile to see them both still there, probably untouched, before I slipped out the back door. I'm a smooth criminal. As I returned to my apartment, I was REALLY hungry, but realized I had no pans to cook the stir fry I had in mind (as well as sheets and blanket for the mattress) so I decided to return to the vicinity of the hostel to use the wi-fi connection I had saved on my phone in order to email John, a post-doc theology student from Pittsburgh, to see if he could hook me up with some gear. Luckily, he got right back to me to tell me he could help, but he needed to leave in 30 minutes. So I scooted my desperate ass on over there and 41 minutes & 30 euros later I was walking back across town with as much as I could carry of the "bare essentials" stuffed into a garbage bag. The next couple days consisted of head-stirring-sorting-out of certain pragmatic issues such as apartment internet connection, , town registration, insurance, 
bike parking, banking, storage-rental-closure, etc.
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