For Volvo Trucks in Belgium

Two weeks in Ghent

Ghent, October 2007: I am the press officer for an event with European journalists, those who write about transport and trucks. Volvo shows off a hybrid truck for garbage collection. The environment is in focus.

The event lasts for two weeks, and every day is much the same: technical presentations, lunch, technical presentations. Then I give a speech that never feels right, because I don’t believe in what I’ve written. Something is wrong, but I can’t put my finger on it. I ought to rewrite it from scratch with a new approach, but I don’t. The journalists listen politely; my boss, Eva H, is kind and says it’s good. I polish it, change a few words, but it still doesn’t work.

After the last group, there is three hours of free time. I wander around. I have a glass of white wine in the restaurant. I check on the preparations for the evening’s dinner, making sure the microphone and speakers are in place and working. I chat with the bartender.

This is followed by a two-hour dinner with journalists. A hearty steak. Two glasses of red. Something strong for the coffee and rather sluggish conversations in poor English (except with Brits and Dutch). Our technicians are the important ones for the event. Not me, and that's the way it should be. The dinner ends and I thank the guests via the microphone. Wish good night.

So, a bit one-sided. But in the luggage there is an exciting thing. My first digital camera that can take reasonably good pictures. A Canon D50. It revives the interest in photography that died out in the darkroom. In my free time, every day between four and seven in the afternoon, I take the camera and discover the fantastic city of Ghent, which I have been to so many times, but never seen.

The camera is going to change things. I’ll upgrade again later on and take tens of thousands of photos. I’m selling the D50 to my sister C. I don’t think she ever liked it, and I regret not just giving it to her instead.

Ghent under an eternal yogurt sky