Belgium: comfortable numb (7 images, 10 salient points)
A stranger without a moment’s hesitation would share his fries with me to help me decide which of the 17 million Frite Sauces i would have.
300 varieties of beer in a shop no bigger than a matchbox.
More than one store dedicated to TinTin and TinTin paraphernalia.
The existence of TinTin paraphernalia.
A Godiva chocolate milkshake.
Even the crummiest bar with it’s respect for beer had the respective glass for every make.
3 or more different belgian beers before bed, and dream the wildest and most lucid dreams ever. Hagar the Horrible emerging from a trashcan on a hillside is as vivid a memory as lunch.
The sleepy streets of Ghent, supposed hub of youth and Belgian Craziness.
The smell of waffles like a light drizzle around tourist hubs of Bruge.
Though she was lovely, and i loved her, i cut my trip short and left her so easily.
If ever there was a place that i would liken to myself, she would be Belgium.