The fire that wasn't a fire

So Stu and I are going to bed last night around 12 and all of a sudden I see these massive clouds of smoke in the distance. The clouds were firey red and you could see the reflection of the flames dancing on the clouds. This was big. I run to the tv but nothing on there, I check the internet but nothing on there either. This must just be happening. Stu, who had been winging for hours he was tired and wanted to go to bed, jumped on his bike and decided he would go and have a look up close. I told him he was being a ramptoerist, which lead us to the conclusion the English don't have a word for this... It freely translates as a disaster tourist and when looked up in the dictionary, it defines as (Stu indeed) : morbidly curious sightseer at the scene of a disaster.

Obviously I had to jump on my bike as well (and sneak my camera into my bag - you never know how much a newspaper would give for my pictures if I was there first?!)... We had no idea where we were going, we were just following the red smoke. I was getting suspicious of the fact that nobody else was on the streets wondering where this was coming from (unless the nuclear power station down the road had exploded and we'd just done the one thing they advise you not to do!). I couldn't hear any fire engines, the city of Antwerp was asleep... We biked all the way to the edge of the river and realised what the fuss had been about when we finally saw what was causing the fire. They were burning off excess gas in the harbour... duh. I thought it was still very spectacular, even though the rest of Antwerp thought it was the most normal thing in the world.