Bruges is in Belgium. I mention this because I think I may have hit the travel wall…I’ve been to so many different European cities lately that I can’t seem to remember where I am.
No offense at all to Bruges, because it’s a lovely city. Really. You’ve seen the pictures. It’s just that it happened to be the city that I was in when I overdosed.
As I was riding my rental bike over the cobblestones, here is the thought process that was going through my head:
Prague? No, Bruges.
Austria? No, it’s Belgium.
Why do tourists have to advertise their tourist-ness by wearing white sneakers, and cameras around their necks?
Even worse, why, oh why, do they use a flash when taking pictures outdoors in bright sunlight, or in a cavernous cathedral? I want to wrestle their cameras out of their hands and TURN OFF THE FLASH.
Ow. That was one big cobblestone.
Is it lunchtime / tea time / dinnertime / snack time / glass of wine-time yet?
Do I want a café au lait, café crème, caffè latte, mélange, or cappuccino?
Wait a minute. Didn’t I just pass that church? Store? Charming house?
Is it merci, grazie, köszönöm, děkuji, danke or dank u?
What day / month / time is it?
Don’t misunderstand…I LOVE traveling. I love traveling in Europe. I even love Bruges.
Next stop is London. Then Paris. Then Positano.
It’s all wonderful, but I’m glad I’ll be going to India next month…I don’t think I’ll confuse Jaipur with Bruges!