Arrived at the Aloft Hotel thinking I would get a shower and a nap after being up for almost 24 hours. That dream was not to be realized as Henry felt it was imperative we begin exploring the city as soon as possible. I felt like I'd been not only hit by a large truck but backed over a few times as well. I did get the shower but the nap was not meant to be.
Off we went....walking....nevermind he had a car......walking......miles....my god I might have to kill him and hide him behind a building here somewhere. This man knows me but doesn't really KNOW me...he doesn't understand I've gotten rid of people for much less. However, he's kinda cute...I kinda like him...so I'll shut up and play nice.
First stop: the European Parliament. Good news! A large sign announces the Polish are now in charge of the Parliament. Seriously? Did no one think to look into this decision prior to voting? I tilt my head and strain my ears expecting to hear "In heaven there is no beer...that's why we drink it here..."
Next stop: The royal palace. Beautiful. Henry is dutch and they are not impressed by shows of wealth. Actually, it turns them off...so he asks me in a rather disgusted tone, "ugh...could you see yourself living like this?"....uhm...errr.....YES.
We then wander across the street to Brussels version of Central Park. It is stunning and people in the park are not only enjoying some music, a few beers, and icecream...but apparently this is where you go to dry hump your boyfriend. ....sigh.....I was jealous. I admit it.
It is at this point that I begin to whine about my feet, my back, the heat...omg I think i'm getting sunstroke....Henry takes the hint and we stop at a little cafe for something to drink. Holly!! Guess what?? Remember "gas or no gas"? well there is a NEW one now! it is "Spa Rouge ou Spa Vert?" And yes, this is where it finally hits my very tired mind that the only language i've heard since getting off the plane is French. I stare blankly at the waitress and then turn to Henry in sheer terror. No one can possibly expect my brain to switch over to French just yet. Thankfully Henry comes to my rescue and explains to me that Rouge is red and sweet water ....vert is "bitter" or what most of us know as plain sparkling water. ....err....spa vert s'ïl vous plait. (god I miss gas or no gas)
I sip my spa vert while staring at the cutest lil rasta man i've ever seen chatting it up with his extremely beautiful companion....grrrr...
After our too brief rest we walk on to the Grand Place (Grand Market) in the heart of Brussels. The old buildings are beautiful and I'm overcome with joy that we've finally arrived. We spend the next few hours eating a very bad french meal (yes i've said it FRENCH FOOD SUCKS and i'm not the only one who thinks so) ....the shining light at the end of the tunnel is the Belgian love of beer. It was time to join the party. After taking the obligatory tourist pictures, Henry and I spent the rest of the early evening stopping every 3 blocks or so at another sidewalk restaurant for a glass of beer. By the time we made it back to the hotel I had just enough strength left to wash my face, put on jammies, and collapse face down on the bed.
Thank you God for getting me through this day.
Daily Recap:
Sleep: 0
1 Palace 1 Park 1 Meal 1 Box of Belgian Chocolates 2 Blisters on my feet 6 Large Beers
