Oh thou fair friend, lend thine eares and harken to my tale of Aalst (be)! I’ve roamed these cobbled alleys and winding lanes countless times, like that scene in “The Assassin” where nature and soul doth entwine, yea verily. Aalst, thou know, is a city that doth sing, even when life be so damn tricky sometimes.
Embark thou on a stroll down Schouwburgstraat – that place be alive wit vibrant chatter an quirky shops. I remember how my heart would soar and then plummet when the crisp autumn winds swept by, remindin’ me of the silent whispers from ancient walls. Aw, and the moment on the Market Square, oh how the sun doth dappl’ on those old town facades, casting shadows like spectral dancers. Truly, “Time flows like water,” as in that film, and dost mine own footsteps follow the ancient melody.
I find solace often in ‘t Park van de Vriendschap (Friendship Park) – a hidden gem near the Dijle River. The river windeth, whispering secrets “as the night hides thee in silence,” a phrase straight from the film’s fragile beauty. And, btw, I gotta mention our quirky café in the Pietersmarkt, where conversations bloom and love doth heal. Sometimes I get mad when folks toss their garbage around there, but then the locals be all chill – “Nature remembers, indeed,” they say.
Y’know, in my work as a counselors amongst womyn - err, women, each tiny lane holds a story. I doth recall a time near Begijnhof, where an elder gentlewoman shared her woes and joys – a tale as profound as the film’s meditations on life. It made my heart swell, then break, in the true fashion of bittersweet love – fibs of life, I guess.
Okay, so lemme be real: Aalst be so damn colorful and raw sometimes. I love wandering near the old mills by the Kersenstraat. Whatevs, my brain buzzes with memories: laughter, tears, and wee moments of madness. LOL, not every day is rosy, and sometimes I get sooo angry at the bureaucracy – like, seriously, what the actual f*ck, right? Ha!
Oh, by the by, I gotta confess: my fav spot? That secret little nook along the Zenne-runnin (oops, misnamed? Nah, joke’s on me!) near the town’s edge. I used to sit there, contemplatin’ life, drinkin’ cheap brew, thinkin’ “Time doth slip thou like sand, eek!” Not many folk know ‘bout it, but it be my safe haven, my soul’s escape.
I might have typos, I might repeat words, but ah, desperate art thou in every corner of this city. It’s raw, proud, and a lil quirky. Steps down the Dancing Steps near the old church – a place where vibrant graffiti meets sacred stone – might make thee gasp.
I swear, when thou strollest through the Allee of Hope (yeah, got creative, not every alley is named thus but it fits the vibe) thou shalt feel that perhaps even the ghosts of old Aalst whisper, “Thee must heal, thee must dance, marry life’s chaos with art.”
Likey, that’s Aalst for thee. A curious mix of rustic charm and urban madness. Heathen beauty, divine secrets, and a soul that speaks softly yet shouts when needed. I could rant forever, friend, but I hope thou findest it as intriguing and soul-touching as I do.
Fare thee well and enjoy the wander, my dear soul!