Took a trip to Planckendael today – the sprawling and somewhat unkempt quasi-zoo between Brussels and Antwerp. They don’t do zoos well in Belgium. This was a kind of safari on foot through an unpaved and confusing meshwork of tracks, bearing little resemblance to their ostensibly user-friendly hand-drawn map.
We walked for what seemed like an eternity past enclosures containing various types of cows and goats. I am sure I am wronging what was a plethora of interesting bovine and caprine species, but stolid grazers don’t do it for a concrete-and-glass urbanite like myself. My idea of wildlife is sheer visual awe/horror/thrill/fascination. Having grown up on a diet of documentaries with nail biting cheetah-chasing-gazelle sequences, I tend to feel cheated when all I get is a lazy ruminant. Without the drama, the impression they make is pointedly disappointing. When I think of wildebeest I imagine a sea of them stampeding through the Serengeti. We saw two bored and well-fed specimens ambling around their enclosure. Say “bison”, and the images of enigmatic Native American war dances flash through the mind. We saw a couple of disheveled creatures, with wooly and matted manes hanging around them pathetically in shreds. You feel sorry that the majesty of such animals can be so brutally stripped in a zoo.
But of course, the excursion was not for my benefit – we were there for our VVIP, Fatima. She did not seem particularly impressed with the offering either. After barely clapping her eyes on each animal, she impatiently shouted out: “I need to see more animals”, doubtless making a list of “places I’d rather be” in her mind. Still, the trip had its moments….nothing beats the inner high of watching Fatima in a burst of energy, as she charges around, holding one of us by the hand, and vigorously repeating some idea, or intention, or phrase that has caught her fancy. 🙂 She’s sleeping it off now, but we might head over to the Foire du Midi later, where she can get some sure-fire excitement on her favorite entertainment, the merry-go-round, or “merry-going-round” as she calls it. 🙂
Notes to Self 
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