Man, what a day! Seriously, I’m still reeling from it. So, I’m a charcoal burner, right? Yeah, I know, not the most glamorous gig, but hey, it pays the bills. Anyway, I woke up in Bleiswijk, that little gem of a town. You know, the one with the canals and all those cute houses? Yeah, that’s the spot.
So, I’m rollin’ outta bed, and I’m like, “Today’s gonna be chill.” Spoiler alert: it was NOT chill. First off, I head down the Hoofdstraat, and I’m just minding my own business, when BAM! A pigeon poops right on my shoulder. Like, really? I’m just tryna live my life here! I swear, those birds have it out for me.
Then I get to the market at the Bleiswijkseweg. Man, it’s packed! People everywhere, buying veggies, flowers, you name it. I’m just trying to get some charcoal for my kiln, right? But nooo, the guy at the stand is chatting up a storm. I’m like, “Dude, I need charcoal, not a life story!” But he just keeps going. I’m standing there, tapping my foot, thinking about how I could be back at my place, chillin’ with a beer instead of waiting for this guy to finish his monologue.
Finally, I get my charcoal, and I’m feeling a bit better. I head over to the park by the Bleiswijkse Plas. It’s a nice spot, you know? Kids are playing, dogs are running around, and I’m just soaking it all in. But then, outta nowhere, this kid runs into me, and I drop my bag. Charcoal everywhere! I’m like, “Great, just what I needed.” The kid looks up at me, all wide-eyed, and I can’t help but laugh. I mean, what else can you do, right?
So, I’m cleaning up my mess, and I spot this old dude sitting on a bench. He’s got this wild beard and a hat that looks like it’s been through a war. I’m thinking, “This guy’s seen some stuff.” So, I go over and start chatting with him. Turns out, he’s lived in Bleiswijk his whole life. He tells me stories about the old days, when the streets were dirt and the canals were full of fish. I’m just sitting there, listening, and it’s like I’m transported back in time.
But then, outta nowhere, my phone buzzes. It’s my buddy, asking if I wanna hit up the pub later. I’m like, “Heck yeah!” I mean, after this crazy day, I need a drink. So, I finish up with the old dude, say my goodbyes, and head home to clean up.
Now, here’s where it gets wild. I’m walking back down the Hoofdstraat, and I see this massive commotion. Turns out, there’s a street performer doing some crazy juggling act. I’m talking flaming torches, knives, the whole shebang. I’m standing there, mouth agape, thinking, “This is Bleiswijk?!” I mean, who knew we had talent like this?
I get caught up in the crowd, and before I know it, I’m cheering like a madman. The guy finishes his act, and I’m just pumped. I toss him a couple of euros, feeling all generous and stuff.
Finally, I make it home, and I’m exhausted. But I can’t stop thinking about the day. The pigeon poop, the kid, the old dude, the juggler. It’s like Bleiswijk threw a curveball at me, and I’m just trying to catch it.
So, I hit up the pub with my buddy, and we’re laughing about the day. I’m telling him all the wild stuff that happened, and he’s cracking up. I mean, who knew a day in Bleiswijk could be so intense?
By the end of the night, I’m feeling grateful. Grateful for the chaos, the surprises, and the people. Bleiswijk, you crazy little town, you’ve got my heart. Can’t wait to see what tomorrow brings!