I asked the locals if it was safe to park the car where I had left it.  Not knowing the international road signs (Stupid I know but there you are!!) we left the car near an old interesting building. So Nigel and I went to get something to eat, drink and we listened to some cool rock music and hung out with colleagues at the local bar, the Cafe Plectrum (cool bar by the way!)
It must've been around eleven, maybe twelve that night when we went back to the car to get our things when Nigel said to me that the car wasn't there.  I thought he was taking the Mickey, but he wasn't.  My car had gone!!!
 

I started swearing, cursing and basically went mad!  My boss (Douglas) and Nigel stood there, watching me take on at least two cops who knew what I was saying (I was too tired to care about that small fact as I was being a wee bit rude and shouting in my broad scottish accent at people whose first language is Flemish, second language is French!) and they just stood there shrugging their shoulders and shaking their heads at my display of anger. (Quite rightly too!)

Imagine it - driving over 400 miles, through three countries to get to where you are going, you leave the car for a few hours (About three hours I think) and then it's gone when you get back to get your bed clothes, sleeping bags and stuff out of it.  I was more than annoyed.

Anyway, Nigel just yanked my hand (my arm and me physically) to where Douglas said the local police station was, and he asked for me (cause I was still mad at them) where the car might be.  Guess what?  It was still in Leuven, Belgium. On the other side of the town!  It's like walking across Birmingham in the UK to get your car when you parked it no less than forty feet from where you are staying.

I got even madder when we started following the map that the woman in the police station gave me.  (remember we were in Belgium at 1 am)   I couldn't follow it, didn't want to follow it, I just wanted to get my car, get my bed things and go to sleep. Somehow, I don't quite know how, Nigel got me there, sat me down in the police station and started making inquiries for me. (Thank god he had patience.  I was ready to knock the policemen out when I got there!)  I must've drifted off to sleep because Nigel was gently waking me up, telling me I had to make a statement and sign to get my car out.  I had never even had a parking ticket in the UK, never mind one anywhere else!

But Nigel got things sorted and the policeman asked why I had parked in a no parking zone.  I just looked at the policeman and said that I didn't know I had.  I didn't understand their no-parking signs and I pleaded ignorance.  It didn't wash with the policeman until Nigel said, "Well, we did it.  How much is it to get the car back?"  Somehow the policeman looked at him, thought about things and decided to let us loose. (Thank God!)  I was panicking all the way to the main police station because I had no extra money to get the car out of the police pound (Nearly eighty pounds) and if I paid it, it would have meant that I would have no money to get food (We were self catering) and probably end up going hungry!

Like a Knight in shinning armour, Nigel saved the say (He wisely bought along an extra hundred pound, just in case!) paid the fine for me and got my car out of that horrible police car-park.  Here is the receipt in Belgium francs just to prove it was paid.

To point something out here, I did park in a no-parking zone.  When we counted how many no parking signs there were (eleven in total) I don't see how I missed it, but I did.  Their no parking signs are the same as the UK's no through signs, which is the same all over Europe apparently, so be warned! The symbol is a blue circle with a red diagonal line from the top right to the bottom left and a red circle around the outside.  Some of them even have a tow-truck towing a car in them.  (My excuse was I was tired and I am sticking to it!)

For the remainder of the trip, we actually parked in the Police Car Park (well it was free and I am scottish) and we went and checked with the police each day that we were okay to leave it there. The festival itself was excellent though and despite the above, it was a most rememberable time. The work colleagues had a giggle (I did to when I got my senses back) and we enjoyed ourselves immensly. If you get the chance, head into the town centre (At least I remember thinking the Cafe Plectrum was in the town centre) and near a statue of a little boy relieving himself (if I'm wrong here please e-mail me cause I can't remember the statue that well) sits the Cafe Plectrum!! Have some beer and "relax"