Weekend in Brussels

grand placeA couple of weekends ago, my husband and I crossed the border and ventured over to the land of chocolate and moules frites (mussels and fries). I had only briefly visited Brussels once years ago when I had flown to Paris and driven to the most south eastern corner of Belgium to get my dog, Elroy. During that trip, I was only in Brussels for a few hours, and the only thing I really remember about the city was the rather unremarkable meal that I had that night. From what I’ve gathered, the French don’t hold the Belgians in particularly high esteem and think of themselves and their culture/cuisine as being far superior to that of the Belgians. Given that mediocre meal and their reputation among the French, I didn’t exactly have any sort of expectations, but nevertheless, I still looked forward to leaving the hustle and bustle of Paris for a long weekend to explore the home of the European Commission.
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Weekend in Brussels