The Belgium property market...and other adventures

So I've signed the compromis de vente which means, according to Belgium law I am now the legal buyer of a rather pleasant second floor apartment in Ostend (see 20.5.5).

The experience has been part-terrifying, part-reassuring, which is a welcome contrast to the British real estate scene where you down your terror neat. The reassurance comes in the form of the CdV which technically means both parties can't back out without risking 10 per cent of the purchase price and a lengthy legal process.

But for all the plain-speaking Dutchness (well Flemishosity) of it all, I can't but help experience a certain low-level anxiety alongside my anticipation. Maybe it is the very confidence that everyone seems to have: with all that seeming transparency I'm sure something unexpected is bound to turn up.

Just as Jung claimed that our real identities were actually the opposite of the face we turn to the world (so deep down, for example, extroverts are actually shy stamp collectors. No, really...) I can't help thinking the same applies to cultures.

For example, the English like to think of themselves (and are generally perceived by the rest of the world) to be cold, efficient, stiff-upper-lipped sexual repressives when they are actually passionate, unpredictable, incompetent shag monsters - the Italians of the north if you like. Equally I wonder if the above-board straight-talking sober-seeming Flemish (and their supposedly air-tight conveyancing system) are all they appear to be....

I certainly won't be uncrossing my fingers just yet.