For nearly ten years we’ve been following this tradition now, my Brussels friends and I. We rent a house somewhere in the south of Belgium surrounded by forests and fields, preferably with a jacuzzi and lots of space to dance. Our home for one week. Living together, sharing moments sweet and deep. We call the experience WEEK. Celebrating the transition from one year to the next, and without realising we have been celebrating years of love and friendship, growth and lessons, highs and lows. Our family of friends, lovers and feels are invited to the house, and over the years we’ve been welcoming them all.
It’s been a journey for each and every one of us. Having WEEK as some sort of anchor in the midst of life’s chaos. Everything is unsure, except for that one week we pile up our stories, cuddles, laughter, tears and dance moves in a house together. Even while travelling and living abroad for most of the past decade, WEEK has been a homecoming like no other. Fifteen friends (and more and more kids every year) with arms open to welcome you home… Is there anything better?
I may not have spent much time in Belgium the past years, but WEEK has always been a staple, a non-negotiable for me. (Except for the one time I missed because I had just moved to New Zealand). I can feel guilty about not seeing my wonderful bunch of Brussels’ friends more often, and I miss them a lot. But you know when friendship is real and for life when you see each other after many months (or years) and you just pick up where you left off. The good stuff.
Coming together and being able to be ourselves so much we bring out the child in each other… It’s pure magic! We play games day and night, dress up in our fanciest glitter gowns, go outside to drink bubbles and hug each other while yelling in everyone’s ears: HAPPY NEW YEAR! To then dance all night on our socks in the living room, losing our voices as we sing along to the cheesiest songs ever written. WEEK is my treasure chest full of gems, and I am so grateful for it.