A few good things in March
Citrus lemonade, ramen, and blinding light.
Last Friday, I had a meeting with the publisher of my first book (more news will follow soon!), and I used the opportunity to spend a slow, sun-soaked day in Gent. A small reward, I thought, for the effort of the meeting itself.
I live in Kortrijk, an easy train ride away, except that Friday was a strike day, and no trains were running during peak hours. The kind of disruption that might be annoying if I’d been in a rush—but instead, I took it as an invitation to arrive early, to wander, to let the day unfold at its own pace.
So, I packed up my laptop, notebook, and my happy teal folding bike and headed to the station. The bike, always a companion in days like this, offering a bit of freedom, a way to stretch time, to make the in-between moments count.
In Gent, the sun was kind. I took a detour through Citadel Park, where the air smelled of damp leaves and warming earth, and the trees cast long, dappled shadows across the paths. A few streets away, I stopped at “Lost and Found,” a vintage shop that skips the tired divisions of men’s and women’s clothing, sorting instead by feel: formal, romantic, daring. Tweed and button-ups on one side, delicate pastels and embroidery in another, and then the truly bold—fluorescence, animal prints, pieces that whisper (or shout) that fashion is, after all, just a kind of play.
Lunch was at Zuru Zuru Ramen, a spot I’d been meaning to visit since reading an interview with the chef, Nick Hofman, about his quest to craft a vegan ramen so rich and deep that even purists wouldn’t desire a presence of an animal in it. The bowl arrived steaming, fragrant, layered with flavor in the way only slow, careful cooking can achieve. Worth the wait. Worth coming back for.
Next, to SMAK. Even when I know an exhibition won’t surprise me, the museum itself is a kind of reset. White walls, open space, quiet contemplation. They were setting up a new show—Painting After Painting—so when I was there the pieces in place were familiar from the summer. Still, a good pause, a chance to clear my head. Also: SMAK’s lockers, perfectly sized for a folded bike. A small but perfect detail.
The meeting was in De Speelfontein, a little oasis of sustainable playthings and soft clatter, attached to a small café. Bar Fontein has a garden where cats wander freely, winding between table legs, pausing in patches of sun. I ordered a homemade lemonade, set up my notes, watched the way the trees swayed gently above me. Meetings, when held in places like this, feel less like work, more like possibility.
By the time I was on my way home, the sun had started to dip, casting long shadows over the city. A day well spent. A day that, if I’d been less intentional, might have been just a meeting and a commute. Instead, it was a reminder: sometimes, the space around the thing is as important as the thing itself.
