Two hours on the Thaly’s rail and another hour on the commuter train (because we took the local train that goes by Aalst, despite Wim often warning us that it “leaves first and gets there last, remember the story of the tortoise and the hare?”) landed us in lovely Gent, Belgium. Gent also goes by Ghent or Gand, depending what language you are speaking (Flemish and French, respectively). In Belgium it matters very much what language you speak. For a little country with so much history the divisions between language groups and geographic areas can get pretty intense. However, one could say the same about Brooklyn. I described Gent to my friends in the US as similar to a cool college town, but with canals, a castle from the middle ages, a transfixing number of cobblestone allies and an important place in art history.