Brussels

Another day, another hassle at Heathrow. I missed my flight to Brussels partly due to a 'bank holiday.' I don't really want to talk about it. I got the next flight out which was two hours after the original, plus a little delay. I had planned to meet my old roommate at BRU since he was arriving from Philadelphia less than an hour before my flight was to arrive at about 9am. So the last we spoke, before we left, we realized that we wouldn't have cell phones so we struggled to come up with a back up plan in case we needed to get ahold of one another. Email was the best we could think of. So as I waited for my flight I sent an email at a little pay-by-coin internet computer. I also went to the British Airways service desk to see if they could send a message to my old roommate waiting at BRU. The kid who helped me was like 16, and it must've been one of his first days on the job. He seemed a little nervous, and there was a great big Scottish man looking over his shoulder telling him what to hit on his keyboard to send the message. So I dictated to him "I'm now on flight 932..."
"903?"
"932."
Then the scottsman chimes in. "Nyoo. Nyane thairt-ty tooa"

Anyway, my old roommate luckily checked his email in the internet cafe at BRU. I think he may be more of a fly by the seat of his pants traveler than even me. We got online and booked a hostel. The lovely Manhattan hostel in the heart of town. It is a rundown hotel. Pretty fancy for a hostel. There were a bunch of teenagers running around the halls until pretty late. Those crazy kids.

Brussels was a pretty cool town. Good chocolate. We checked out a few of the main parts and had some dinner in one of the restaurant alleys near the Gallery.