Mission: Impossible?

Friday, 5 August, 2011 - Although I had been to Belgium in the summer of 2010 and typically prefer to travel to new destinations when possible, I had a special mission which brought me back to Brussels again this summer. However, since said mission could be accomplished in about an hour, I decided that if I were going back to Belgium I might as well spend the rest of the weekend exploring some new locals. Buddy Ian was eager to join in on the trip but wouldn't get done with his internship for the day until late that afternoon, so I decided to fly to Brussels a little earlier, see if I could accomplish what I set out for, then rendezvous with Ian at the train station and head to Brugge for two nights and Ghent for one.

Now, you might be pondering what exactly this mission I had undertaken was. Well, unfortunately at the moment I can't be terribly specific as it's still relevant, but let's just say I had seen a Thing for a Person in a Shop last summer which I had almost bought, decided against, then later rather regretted that decision. I thought it was only right that I remedy that, being conveniently in Europe and all. I think almost everyone that I told the scheme to scoffed at least mildly. "The Shop will be out of business!... or at least closed while you're there for vacation," or "I bet they don't even sell the Thing anymore." Me being me, however, I was determined to try.

I landed in Brussels International early in the afternoon. Check. I made my way to the Grand Place, the central square of Brussels (attempting the Metro for the first time, and successfully I might add). Check.

I navigated directly to the Shop. Even after a year I remembered exactly how to get there. Check. It was still the Shop. Check. The front door was open. Check. I walked inside. The Thing(s) were still there. Check check and check! I may have let out a small sigh of relief. I began examining the Things, trying to determine which would be the most appropriate, the most to the Person's liking. An assistant came up to ask if I needed help with anything. I asked for a price quote on one of the Things, curious if it had gone up from last summer when I asked. "Oh, those aren't for sale." Huh?! "No, no, there must be some mistake, I almost bought one last summer and I was very specifically told they were for sale and given a price." "No ma'am, I'm really sorry, but the man who made them for us died a few months ago, so we can't get them anymore and so we're not selling them." (okay, so she didn't say "ma'am"; she's not Southern. But the rest of it is true.) I just stared, dumbfounded. Long story short, not a single one was for sale, but if I came back on Monday the shop owner would be in and maybe she'd let me buy one of the Things from her other Shop. I was flabbergasted. Of all the things I thought might go wrong with this plan, that was not one I had accounted for. I left, crushed.

I consoled myself with chocolate which helped lift the spirits, however marginally. I mean, they do do a good job of enticing people into shops with lavish displays of more varieties of chocolate than you can shake a stick at. Not to mention if you browse for approximately one minute almost all of them will give you a free sample.

Thus as time passed I began to feel mildly better.

I don't recall doing much else that afternoon other than reading in the grandeur of the Grand Place to kill about an hour until I was to meet Ian. Then back on the train to be delivered to Brugge.

We arrived after dark and rather hungry, figured out where our Bed and Breakfast was, received a briefing on Brugge from our amiable hosts, then set off to see what we could find to eat. We made it to the main square with relative ease, stopping along the way to admire the beautiful and quaint city as it was lit up by night.

As we neared the main square we heard live music from somewhere near by, so we followed our ears to find a stage set up in front of the City Hall about a block over. People seemed to be coming and going as they pleased and the music was good, so we grabbed a table at a restaurant looking out at the stage and dined to the beat of Amparo Sánchez and her band Amparanoia, a group with some good Latin flair.

We both got hare after a minor struggle with the waiters - one had seated us and brought us menus, but another came up to take our drink order, saying the kitchen was closed for the night. We were able to negotiate, luckily, and the bunny rabbit was quite tasty, if a little overpriced, but the issue of the kitchen closing early turned out to be something that has plagued me every night I've dined in Brugge (which totals a whopping four).

Ian and I ambled about a bit longer after dinner, then decided to call it a night and get a good night's sleep and be ready for the next morning. So ended our first night in Brugge, and I must say, at least for myself, I was thrilled with my introduction thus far!