Brussels and the Way of the Waffel

The morning came, and my sister and I had to find breakfast. We stowed the bags after checking out, and caught the "5" into city center. We came to a coffee place called "Bagels and Beans," and while we sat drinking coffee and eating, I read a newspaper and reconnected to reality for a short time.

Afterwards we went to the annual flea market, where my sister looked for dresses. I looked around and saw a book stand so, naturally, I made my way to one of the bins doubting there'd be any books in English. I came to a bin and picked up a book, Milan Kundera's 'The Unbearable Lightness of Being', which was surprisingly in English, and more surprisingly had been recommended to me by Constantine before we parted ways in Berlin. I got goosebumps as I looked in every other bin and found zero books in English. Kundera's book had been the only one in the entire stand in English, and it was the first book I picked up. Throughly weirded out, and thinking it a sign from God, I bought the book and we left.

An hour later we boarded the train to Brussels. On the way we saw pastures and cows, and tulips and corn; and I decided it was a countryside full of rich heritage and hearty people.

About two and a half hours later we pulled into Brussels, and after a short walk had arrived at out "Budget Hotel" which, compared to the hostels we'd been staying in, looked like Buckingham Palace. I took a shower and we left to eat steak and fries at a French restaurant.

Afterwards, we went in search of a good bar. We found many, some better than others. One we found was a smoke joint on a street corner, where there were a few locals and cheap whiskey and beer. The next place was a sports bar, where the men sipped beer and watched the game, and were totally oblivious to me and my sister.

Having come to Brussels for one thing, we went in search of Waffels. We were both pretty sloshed, so the search was not easy. Finally, we came to a stand where women with tired faces served us Waffels with tired strawberries and chocolate sauce. And in no way was that depressing. The Waffels were terrific. We sat eating them on the curb watching the night pass and made fun of each other when we got chocolate on our faces.

After, we stumbled into a bar called Delirium. My sister had read about it and they were playing good music, so we went inside. The place was an absolute zoo of younger people dressed for the night, and sitting in what looked like hollowed out beer kegs. The walls were plastered with old beer signs, and it felt both worn and welcoming while having the commercialism of a CheeseCake Factory. But we bought beer and sat watching the madness around us, and getting slightly more drunk. After a while the signs on the wall lost their color, and the people seemed to turn grey. We were tired, so we paid our bill and slipped out of the organized madness.

Sick/Amesterdam

In the morning I had never felt so sick, but I knew we had to leave soon for the train that would take us out of this sad-luck country. I was retching in the bathroom when my sister walked up, freshened and fully rested. We walked down stairs -- well my sister walked and I slumped. The attendant gave us directions to the nearest bus station that would take us to the train station, and my stomach did a flip.
Once we had walked to bus station I sat head in hands while my sister told me not to look so sick. When the bus came it was crowded with people and faces and fumes. I stood swaying back and forth while the bus swerved around corners and dodged little cars. Once we finally stopped my stomach couldn't take it anymore, and I elbowed my way out to the street where I let forth a steamy mixture of 'shitzle and beer.
On our way out of Berlin I slept in my seat while my sister ate strawberries and passed incredulous looks at me.

That evening we arrived in Amesterdam, and caught the tram to the street out hostel was on. That hostel wasn't nearly as bad as the last one, and it seemed our luck was turning. We left the bags and went to dinner at a Thai place down the street. We then set out to see the town. Narrow streets and lengthy canals winded our way to the Ben and Jerry's on the main drag, and then to a Irish Pub where we watched a duet play and I sipped whiskey while tapping my foot.
I was surprise that the city hardly smelled like weed, and there was no cloud of smoke rising from the streetside cafes. I knew also that we'd get into that sooner or later, but it'd have to wait. We were going to Brussels tomorrow for a few days, but we'd return, and when we did I expected to indulge in the one custom that set Amsterdam apart from any other country.
We turned in early, and my stomach almost felt normal again.