I guess that's the theme for this blog post, since "las chicas" and I really didn't have a plan once we arrived in the good ol' Belgium. Once we got off the train in Brussels, we began our hike across the city (small, but a little hilly) with the hopes of ending up at our hotel. I, being the lazy backpacker that I am, opted out of a backpack and brought my rolling carry-on. Little did I know that my carry-on has an asshole-like personality and really did not take the cobblestone well. It had a mind of its own and made it quite difficult to keep up with the perky ladies ahead of me.
Speaking of perky....I have a sidenote:
Christine Ward is the happiest person I have ever met in my life. Normally, I would cringe a bit at the raging endorphins that are having a fiesta throughout her neurons, but I am quite enamored with her and her pretty blonde hair (WHY NOT ME?!).
Now, back to the story:
After passing some questionable stores ("Kinky Store" and "24/7 HOT GIRLS") along the way, we arrived at the beautiful Brussels square. Our first stop? A chocolate museum! After "sampling" (Aka eating my body weight in chocolate chips) and getting a demonstration on how they make chocolate, I was overdosed on the sweet stuff and couldn't imagine moving an inch for at least 7 hours.
This is our cute little Belgian chocolate maker
But there was no time to waste! We hurried out and went into the square to see some buildings who's meaning we truly did not know. It was a sight! As all the girls were staring up at the amazing architecture, my eyes were focused on something smaller and more edible: French fries covered in onions, ketchup, and mayonnaise. "Fries, Fries, Fries" were all that could come to mind once my vision came into contact with that handful of golden goodness. Within moment, the others joined in and it became our quest. Having no shame, I went right up to the broad with the fries and demanded that she tell me where she got them or else I would beat her up (Ok, I wasn't that mean, but I still demanded to know) and she pointed in a random direction. The jerk that she was, she pointed us in the wrong direction and it took another 15 minutes for us to come upon the golden goodness I like to call french fries. These fries were like nothing I had ever tasted before; they were truly a clogged artery in a carton and we became best friends immediately.
My love affair with the french fries was short but sweet. As we inhaled out fries to the point of no return, we gazed across the street and saw something else that caught our eye. Waffles. Straight up. We couldn't resist. We dumped the fries and headed across the street to the heavenly Belgian Waffles. And no exaggeration, they were heavenly.
The day continued on with our visit to the Belgian peeing boy (which is of equal importance as Paris' Eiffel Tower) and saw a few more sites. That night, we went to Delirium, an international bar famous for its massive selection of beers. We made friends with some Spaniards and I felt right at home speaking spanish to my new buddies (at least it wasn't French). Right next to our table at Delirium was this bizarre man rocking out in some serious dance moves (even though nobody at the bar was dancing).
The next day was filled with a day trip to Bruge, a quaint little town about an hour outside of Brussels. It was cute, however quite cold and rainy. After braving the weather and eating more waffles, we headed back to Brussels where we went straight to Fatboy's, an America sportsbar that was showing the Bears/Packers game. We were dedicated, arriving 3 and a half hours early. We hung out, drank some beer, and cheered on the Belgian Standard team in their futbol match while we waited patiently for our big fat men in uniform to whip some Packer ass. Unfortunately, we all know that didn't happen and I won't dwell anymore on the subject. We went home, went to sleep, and woke up today with our sights on new Belgian adventures and food. We got some lunch, walked around a bit, and soon enough it was time to head back to Franceland. Upon arriving at Gare du Nord, I was filled with a strange emotion that is foreign to my mutant mind...happiness. I was happy to be back in Paris! Maybe this whole lack of connection to the French world won't be so bad after all!
Since we've been back, Jimbo went on a date, Moni and I made some gourmet dinner in Restaurant 64, and we failed miserably to successfully do our laundry. I would say it has been a pretty damn awesome weekend if I do say so myself!
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