The Birthday Party

“We don’t have time for jokes here. Do you want to ride the horses by yourself?”

That was the carriage driver’s response to a customer who had already spent more than an hour waiting under the blazing sun.

A few minutes earlier, the same driver had snapped at me too.

It started when I learned that a half-hour carriage ride cost 70 euros. To save money, I quickly arranged to share the ride with an elderly couple standing behind us in line.

“We can ride together and split the cost,” I suggested.

“I could buy a horse for that money where I come from,” a man nearby joked — the same man the driver would later scold for “joking.”

The couple immediately agreed.

When our turn finally came, I explained to the carriage driver that we would share the ride and divide the price.

“That’s not allowed,” she replied sharply.

“Why are you even telling her that?” whispered the man who had joked about buying a horse - still the same man the driver would later scold for "joking."

I looked at the nearly empty carriage. “But there’s plenty of space. Otherwise, it’s just me and my son," I replied to the carriage driver.

“Madam, that’s not my problem. I don’t have time to wait while you decide.”

The elderly couple exchanged uncertain looks. Paying so much money for only thirty minutes suddenly didn't seem worth it anymore.

In the end, they gave up on the ride altogether and settled for taking photos in front of the carriage instead — a small consolation after such a long wait in the heat.

As for me, I was not really disappointed about missing the ride. In fact, part of me felt relieved not to spend so much money. My son did not fully understand what had happened.

“Why didn’t we ride the carriage?” he asked.

“They don’t take cards, and I don’t have cash,” I replied — which was also true.

I try to create memorable journeys for my son and me. We avoid long flights, so I usually choose destinations close to home. Belgium seemed perfect: the land of comic books, chocolate, and beer — even though I no longer drink alcohol and have never liked chocolate very much.

I planned a short trip to Bruges. Smaller than Brussels, easy to explore with an eight-year-old, and beautiful in an almost fairy-tale way, the city sits on UNESCO’s World Heritage list and is only an hour away by train from the capital.

I have always loved In Bruges; the film partly inspired by Harold Pinter’s classical play The Birthday Party. When I first watched it years ago, I was fascinated by the film’s dark absurdity – the kind that quietly reminds me of its existence in the very core of life.

By the end of our journey, I understood that feeling better.

What we experienced in Bruges turned out to be less like a fairy tale and more like The Birthday Party.

Marshall McLuan's idea of "the global village" reveals itself in the form of Labubu Toys in Bruges.