Brussels, Belgium & the Flemish

Pip pip cheerio to London, and bonjour, hallo to Brussels, Belgium.

Another early start. I truly don't mind the early starts, I prefer them, though I do need an early night prior, and the Thames cruise did not facilitate my need for sleep with a 2300 delivery to hotel the evening prior.

I hack my meal prepping for the day, making myself a ham and cheese sandwich and yogurt cup, to go, at the breakfast buffet. I appreciate this is taking more than my share. Though. Convict. Another spoon stolen to enable consumption of what may be contriband.

We board our coach and are introduced to Luigi, our tour guide for the trip. Luigi is already grating on me. It's early. His accent is thick and he does nothing to elevate my opinion of him when he directly asks, "Why are you all a by yourself, eh? Why you no have a the husband?"

Thanks Luigi. Watch yourself, or else I'll move princess Peach to another castle.

Lost at some train station in London, I ask for directions to the platform I need to get to. The lovely attendant asks my platform number. Ever amusing myself, I state 9 and 3/4. Harry Potter reference. I'm always cracking myself up.

A seemingly brief and very comfortable trip aboard the Eurostar delivers us to Belgium sometime around 12.30.

I am enthralled with Belgium. I amble without purpose for hours through the alleys and absorb all this city has to offer. I dine. Belgian waffles no less. Light rain soaks my hair and skin. I stop to enjoy the buskers playing John Legend: All of me, a song that always makes me teary, and realise in this very moment. I'm in Belgium. In Europe. I was in London yesterday. Norway the day before. I'm so very appreciative for this moment.

I accept I may look like a cashed up tourist after the 2nd compliment of my beauty and marriage proposal from the Belgian restaurateurs seeking clientele, and silently think suck on that Luigi. Bet you're not receiving same compliments today. 🤣.

A late hotel check in, I take myself out for dinner and dine French style. Croque Monsieur. A single vino rouge. And contemplate how beautiful the world really is. I check myself and know I've ordered a ham and cheese toastie. And a house red. Language can make anything fancy.

Merci Bouquet, Danke Schon, Dankjewel, Belgium.もっと詳しく