Brussels has been more fun and lovely than I expected. Other than the gourmand culture that I’m over-enjoying, it has a style and aesthetic that goes beyond its (literal) taste to include sight and touch. By that I mean, its people are focused on a sensory goodness that feels more contemporary and less traditional than London’s. There are countless shops and makers of almost any kind of food product, an abundance of high-fashion boutiques, and plenty of gathering spots for the cool kids.
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I’m having second thoughts about my “draft” itinerary, which is why I’m glad it’s draft. I’ve booked nothing ahead, so can pretty much go where I want and when, with little worry.

On that note, I decided to take the train to Belgium today. I took the high-speed Eurostar from London’s Waterloo station. The check-in agent remarked on the hour of sunshine we’d just had, as if God had worked some kind of miracle. After passing through security and informing the immigrations officer that I was headed for Brussels, he offered a skeptical glance and stamped my passport.
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