This is a tale of two gallant young lads that not only endured a 1 litre boot, but were on a mission of sorts to achieve their combined goal of taking on the infamous 2 litre boot in Brussels Belgium.
It was early evening in the summer of 2009, when Roy met his buddy Nizer at the McDonalds restaurant in Leuven. The weather was perfect, very warming with a welcoming breeze that acted as an air conditioner, providing relief from the sticky humidity.
The meeting at MacDonald’s is probably being questioned by the reader, as we know this could be considered one of the unhealthiest choices, but this mission required a very fast, efficient and salty meal. The meal came to an end at a rapid pace, which was further hurried by the prospect of a shiny delicious 2 litre boot, containing a smooth golden liquid, representing the Holy Grail in this story.
The two gentlemen wiped the grease off their faces, washed up and started on their journey towards the Leuven train station. From the Grote Markt, the walk was a straight jaunt down a very hectic street, full of people shopping, enjoying street eats and blocking the side walk from anyone in a hurry to enjoy a 2 litre beverage.
Arriving after 15 minutes, the train station was near empty and easily navigable. There was a direct train to Brussels that arrived in the quickest time, so this “Steam Horse” was selected as the noble steed that would deliver them to battle.
The dialogue centered mostly on the fact that planning a 2 Litre Boot excursion was just going to be plain old fashioned fun. They also paid their respects to their fallen comrades that were unable to make it, based on being captured by a stronger female army and held accountable every time they wanted to be “Awesome”.
Finally, the battle horse rolled into the Brussels train station, as they disembarked, both the men knew there was no turning back. This battle for the golden boot would take a lot out of these brave warriors, but this was a mission that separated men from boys, almost a “rite of passing” in the fermented barley world.
The two men finally arrived at “The Battle of Delirium Café”, slightly parched from the distance marched, the two men selectively grabbed a seat near their opponent. Getting prepared to enter battle, both men ensured they held onto the 40 Euro deposit that would allow them to get close.
They approached the crowded area, threw down the Euros and waited for the question from the boot protector “What would you like in it?”
With an air of confidence, noticing fellow patrons turn their attention to the size of these boots, Roy proclaimed “Campus Gold”.
The gold liquid splashed into the boot in slow motion, first filling up the toes, then turning its attention to the heel, next it took on the large calf muscles, which would put Jean Claude Van Damme, the “Muscles from Brussels” to shame.
Admiring the size, both of these brave beer enthusiasts seized the boots into their possession. Heading to the table, the boots literally weighing a ton, the two men broke through the anticipation, like a meat cleaver chopping a chicken breast, by pouring the cold refreshing fermented barley down their throats.
The liquid flowed to their stomach like a snake slithering through long blades of grass. A refreshing feeling created a bout of laughter, with every sip, a new joke, a new brilliant idea and a new next day’s resolution to start working out.
With spectators surrounding the two, demanding pictures of the slayed boots, the two men entertained these people with occasional gulps to chants of “CHUG CHUG CHUG”, which then was followed by cheers. Normally, Nizer being the former Beer Emperor of his college fraternity, was a little more seasoned and prepared for the boot, he utilized this experience to rile up the crowd and gain cheers.
On the other hand, Roy an endurance man, representing the tortoise in this scenario, paced himself with larger gulps that made small dents in completing the task at hand. Enjoying the photo ops, Roy entertained random people by posing for photos with tourists.
Before long, the boot had been defeated and completely drained of every last drop. Checking the time, Roy gazed at Nizer in a convincing “do you have it in you?”.
The non-verbal communication was obvious, another large boot was on the horizon, both men strutted to the bar, or perhaps stumbled may be a more appropriate term. The guardian of the boots, assuming a safe return of the boot, was a little stunned when these beer warriors demanded it to be FILLED UP AGAIN!!!
The beer guardian immediately gave his partner a raised eyebrow, but continued to pour two more litres of the golden fluid into the boots. To make a long story short, Nizer and Roy took on the other boot with a quickened pace that would allow them to get to the train station and safely back to Leuven.
This is where the next phase of the journey begins. Rushing from Delirium Café in a much uncoordinated manner to catch their ride home, they encountered a major obstacle.
Navigating their way through a dark and gloomy park, they were confronted by a large gate, which appeared fairly hop-able.
There was some hesitation because this dark steel fence with skinny little polls, enormous height and little grip, stood in the way of a successful stumble home. Roy with a bright idea, glimpsed at Nizer and proclaimed that with his liquid strength, could boost the very large Nizer over the fence.
Nizer hesitantly jumped as high on the obstacle as he could and with Roy grabbing his feet reached the top. Roy utilizing this liquid strength decided to push with all his might and noticed a weightless Nizer fall in slow motion from the 6 foot drop to the lenient cement platform that awaited his arrival.
It had worked, now if only Nizer could reach his hands through the fence and support Roy’s body with his wrist muscles, as he attempted to climb the fence. Roy was making it, he was close, and the light at the end of the tunnel was there, until naturally Nizer’s wrists gave out because of supporting too much weight; Roy descended in slow motion towards the same ground where he had attempted, some would call an ill-advised, act of bravery.
Nizer’s face provided a slightly concerned expression as Roy continued his fall towards the ground. Roy bounced off the pavement, withering in pain, slowly got up and brushed himself off. This Canadian kid was about to be stranded in Brussels, as there was 10 minutes till the last train would depart to Leuven.
Roy and Nizer awkwardly staring at each other through the fence, separated like a prisoner from the outside world. Roy heroically yelled for Nizer to continue on, with the boot looking to take a casualty. Then Roy sped off like that blue rabbit from the childhood show Care Bears (Swift Heart, I believe). Nizer yelling, good luck Pogo, see you at the station, but would he?
As Roy continued to run, or more likely wavered in a steady direction, the clock read 4 minutes till the porthole would close and an inevitable park bench would accommodate him that evening.
What felt like a marathon run, was only actually 20 yards from the initial fence that claimed Roy’s dignity. As he squinted to get a better look, he noticed a path light up like Moses had parted the Red Sea. This path was the way; it was unfortunate that the two men had attempted to unwisely climb that fence, when they could have walked through this path.
2 minutes remaining, Roy moved his legs like a windmill during a windy day, but would this be enough to get back to Leuven. Not knowing the precise location of the large central train station, Roy grabbed some passerby’s on the street and in a strong 2 Litre boot accent, asked for directions to the station.
The one shocked, but kind person, gender or physical description unknown, pointed literally to a lit up doorway 10 feet away. Roy, being a culturally sensitive gentlemen and very gracious for their prompt response, gave a Merci beaucoup, which was a satisfying attempt at speaking his limited French.
50 seconds remaining, Roy made a dash for the station like a lightning bolt. Feeling like he was on the amazing race, he found the correct lane.
Unsurprisingly, Nizer would have been worried during this time, as he found the station immediately after the previous separation. Nizer glaring at the steps heard the train pulling in and saw the stumbling figure of a sweaty chap yelling “NIZER!!!”.
The joyful, relieved and victorious reunion was short lived as everyone started boarding the train. A true victory, they came, they drank and they conquered.
The moral of this story is one of dedication, determination and the will to never give up in the face of all odds. If there is a 2 Litre Boot that exists in an individual’s life, they should let nothing get in their way of achieving their goal. Not even a large steel fence.www.deliriumcafe.be
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