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It was while walking down to the swimming pool one afternoon that we stumbled upon main event of the year in Overijse. To be honest, we thought at first it was  some kind of strike as it seemed to consist of a stream of lorries crawling down the high street with their horns blaring, being yelled at by a large crowd. Occasionally, interspersed between the lorries, the management would go by in their gleaming BMWs. To my sister's familly who were with us at the time, it was very exciting seeing their first European-style industrial dispute. Though, even with their open minds on such matters, it seemed a little bizarre when an estate agent and a couple of butchers went by.

We left the protest and went to the swimming pool, which was shut - maybe if we'd stayed we'd have seen the lifeguards going by on a float - so instead, we made do with taking the children to the playground.

An hour later we returned to see the last of the lorries finishing the protest and the arrival of some more decorative wagons of the type seen in a country fayre. The overriding theme had now changed to grapes which were presented by an assortment of children, animals, maidens and toothless gits to the mayor, who received them with a rather comical formality.

While these events enthralled the natives, we slipped away into a calmer quarter where some more tangible entertainment had been placed.

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