Mussels in Brussels

Belgium answered that longing in my heart to visit exotic places. I always fantasize about traveling to far-reaching lands with sexy-cool names like Istanbul, Vienna, or Cairo. Places that steam with street food while you walk hand in hand with your lover down the narrow cobbled streets at night; gazing at the twinkling stars gracing the velvet sky peeking over dilapidated clay-tiled roofs. Wild, untamed places that feel dangerous and dreamy, teeming with people, some like you: seeking the same adventure of a different kind.

We were only in Brussels for two night and one full day. We were excited to have to learn how to say "Thank you" in Dutch, but turns out that the most common language in the capitol is actually French. Having spent a long weekend in Paris last month, we felt confidant enough about our "Merci"s that we even left the cheat-sheet at home. It was complete with Please & Thank You, but also had such gems as, "Leave me alone, Im not a tourist!" It was also the first trip that we both packed everything we needed for the weekend in to ONE backpack! And it wasnt even full!

Brussels is the perfect spontaneous getaway. To say its beautiful there is something of an understatement. The buildings that surround the Grand Place square loom like trolls in the sun, frozen in time forever while life around them grows and dies, and grows anew. Walking down the corridors of chocolate shops is a treat in itself! The large glass windows shine from within, sparkle with every color imagined, and promise the secret of happiness in a bonbon. Every store has a different ambiance too, like so many sisters lined up in a row: Related, but each having its own unique flavour.

At night, the streets dont really sleep for the night, but are awake with a new crowd. White linen clad tables spill out of every door lining the uneven stone walkways, a romantic flickering candle on every one. The maitre d' is as well-dressed as the tables, and if you catch his eye he will show you a menu and sell you the dish of the evening before you even sit down. Many of the menus feel the same, all sporting mussels and other shellfish by the bucket. We chose a less formal restaurant, and got the last table of the night, the waiter giving us a chastising glare while setting the table and taking our order. The food was hot, the wine was cold, and the street we sat on glistened with all the exciting charms I had hoped it would. And it was perfect.