Leaving for JFK after a night of packing and repacking, our plans were finalized with overpacked bags that have already started new aches in our bodies. A transfer in Dublin gave us just enough time to walk up and down the terminal– a quick video-chat home to a friend reminded us both that no one is ever really far away.
Our mini-plane to Brussels was pleasant. Next to me, a 14 month old slept the entire way home. Once landed, his father asked me where we were from. “Near New York,” I responded. He smiled and told us he was from Brussels. “Welcome home,” I said with warmth in my smile. I felt it too.
The train to the center of Brussels was on floor -1 and we got there without issue after drinking 2 emergency coffees that our bodies yearned for at 3:30 AM “our time.”
Without a map, the city center seemed a mess. We gave in and used our phones to direct us where to go. A roquefort salad and white wine mussels (paired with white wine and local beer) was exactly what the doctor ordered. We sat and watched the new world around us happen. We then rushed off to another train station downtown to catch a train to Amsterdam.
The train was booked and the following train as well– but that’s how this trip was going to work. Go with the flow. We settled on a departure time that allowed us to sit and drink in town for an hour longer.
This is the blessed life, as an accordion player serenades us while I write and Ryan sketches. These are the perfect moments in life where whatever happens, happens.
This is every moment.
Written May 4, 2014 at 2 PM in Brussels, Belgium (the beginning of a 3 week adventure with ryan s crane)