Yesterday I saw the first rainy day in over two months if I remember correctly (not: it rained last week), since that rainy weekend in Istanbul. I had totally forgotten about that phenomenon, and especially that it makes me (want to) stay at home.

In those moments, I miss my place a little. You get distracted from the rain easier with your things around you, DVDs, a book you start to read or just some menial task you had put off for exactly such a day, like cleaning out your cupboards or sorting papers.

Here, I have no such thing to distract me, and even if Josées place is great, and an apartment where someone actually lives (I have stayed in some rather empty airbnb places that didn’t even have a book), it’s not my stuff that I am living in.

I had wanted to go out to Parc Jean Drapeau to watch the public screening of the World Cup final, but ended in a neighborhood bar instead, with a bunch of vocal Argentina supporters.

It was a great match and I had a good time.

The rain passed, and in the evening I walked over for a coffee in my now favorite place, Caffè Art Java on Mont Royal, and blogged and did some research for the trip.

There, a text from my friend Arié reminded me that I could not go on and on and on, every day, but needed those rainy days to counter-balance. True indeed.

I am living a very artificial life here, especially in this crazy Montreal summer where I can hardly decide what to chose, each day.

I wrote about going ‘back to normal‘ just a week ago, but truth is I am far from a normal life, with a normal work rhythm and being in the same city for more than 4 weeks.

I’m curious, or mostly anxious, how this will play out once I am back in Brussels. I hope I can be as curious about Brussels as I am about each new city I live in. But how long will that last?

I will have to hand in the final request to extend my personal leave soon, as my initial request is only valid for 12 months.

So I have been thinking a lot about the right date to set, these past weeks.

I wandered through the Plateau, towards Léo le Glacier‘s excellent ice cream parlor, through the quiet, tree-lined streets, that were still wet from the rain, with big water puddles all over.

The city was slow and totally quiet for a Sunday evening, I think everyone was inside, too.