We emerged from the depths of the train station in Belgium, specifically Brussels. The plan was to look around a bit and join a city tour before popping back into a train and heading somewhere else.

The weather was perfect: blue skies dotted with unusual cloud formations. I say unusual because I've noticed the types of clouds floating above Europe are totally different from the clouds I see back home.


With map in hand, we got lost on the way to our tour's meeting spot: the Grand Place. And boy, was it grand!


I couldn't believe I was surrounded by so much history. (OK, I know most people probably don't get excited about stuff like that, but I'm a history nerd. I read history books for fun as a kid, so sue me.) There seemed to be something worth seeing in every direction I happened to go.



And when in Belgium, who could forget the chocolate?


Practically every street had a chocolate shop. My family eventually succumbed to temptation and bought a few pieces to munch on. Considering I'm not a big chocolate fan, I found it pretty good.


We passed by a pretty cool Greek restaurant, and decided to fill our tummies with whatever they could cook up. They cooked up lots of meat.






My sister's looking over my shoulder right now and yelling "It was so good! I can't believe how good it was!" repeatedly. And it was. I remember happily gorging myself on the meaty juices and whatnot that accompanied my medium-rare medallions.

Maybe I take such delight in this because good beef is hard to find back home.

I guess it is time to introduce you to my father's camera, dear Reader. And its tripod.


That tripod allowed us to have family photos without asking the strangers around us to take our shots. It was kind-of queer smiling at a camera wrapped around posts at first, but you get used to it.

After that meal, we went on the slightly disappointing city tour. I just didn't hear as many fun facts as I wanted though it wasn't the guide's fault. He was leading a multilingual tour and had to say everything in three different languages. This obviously takes quite a while.

Brussels had one tourist spot that bears mentioning. It was pretty amusing and almost bordered on strange.


That's the Mannekin Pis, ladies and gentlemen. They say his urine killed the fuse on a bunch of enemy explosives during a war. Some also say he was an infant lord who peed on the enemy troops and increased the army's morale. Either way, this must be the reason car stickers featuring characters in similar poses have flourished.

And so our trip to Belgium came to an end.


We said our goodbyes as we headed for the Netherlands.

We emerged from the depths of the train station in Belgium, specifically Brussels. The plan was to look around a bit and join a city tour before popping back into a train and heading somewhere else.

The weather was perfect: blue skies dotted with unusual cloud formations. I say unusual because I've noticed the types of clouds floating above Europe are totally different from the clouds I see back home.


With map in hand, we got lost on the way to our tour's meeting spot: the Grand Place. And boy, was it grand!


I couldn't believe I was surrounded by so much history. (OK, I know most people probably don't get excited about stuff like that, but I'm a history nerd. I read history books for fun as a kid, so sue me.) There seemed to be something worth seeing in every direction I happened to go.



And when in Belgium, who could forget the chocolate?


Practically every street had a chocolate shop. My family eventually succumbed to temptation and bought a few pieces to munch on. Considering I'm not a big chocolate fan, I found it pretty good.


We passed by a pretty cool Greek restaurant, and decided to fill our tummies with whatever they could cook up. They cooked up lots of meat.






My sister's looking over my shoulder right now and yelling "It was so good! I can't believe how good it was!" repeatedly. And it was. I remember happily gorging myself on the meaty juices and whatnot that accompanied my medium-rare medallions.

Maybe I take such delight in this because good beef is hard to find back home.

I guess it is time to introduce you to my father's camera, dear Reader. And its tripod.


That tripod allowed us to have family photos without asking the strangers around us to take our shots. It was kind-of queer smiling at a camera wrapped around posts at first, but you get used to it.

After that meal, we went on the slightly disappointing city tour. I just didn't hear as many fun facts as I wanted though it wasn't the guide's fault. He was leading a multilingual tour and had to say everything in three different languages. This obviously takes quite a while.

Brussels had one tourist spot that bears mentioning. It was pretty amusing and almost bordered on strange.


That's the Mannekin Pis, ladies and gentlemen. They say his urine killed the fuse on a bunch of enemy explosives during a war. Some also say he was an infant lord who peed on the enemy troops and increased the army's morale. Either way, this must be the reason car stickers featuring characters in similar poses have flourished.

And so our trip to Belgium came to an end.


We said our goodbyes as we headed for the Netherlands.