European Nostalgia

I don’t profess to be one of those people who lives solely in search of the Next Great Adventure. Having said that, I do have to admit a certain weakness for travel. If an opportunity presents itself, I will more than likely jump at it (provided I can gather the appropriate time, energy, and financial backing).

With Jeff’s and my upcoming European adventure waiting in the wings, I am overcome by nostalgia from my last overseas journey four years ago, when I decided to treat myself to an adventure abroad.

Following a brief stopover in Amsterdam, I spent a week in Paris, then another in Belgium, where I was hosted by a dear friend named Viviane and her lovely family. Here are a few photographic recollections from the trip.

Early morning on New Year’s Day in Amsterdam.

The Pont Alexandre III Bridge over the Seine River.

Spiral staircase in a Parisian hotel.

I don’t think this one requires a translation.

Da Vinci Expo in Brussels.

A sidewalk cafe in Paris.

An ornate ceiling in the Louvre Museum.

Underneath the Eiffel Tower.

Nighttime near the Paris Opera.

Closerie des Lilas, one of Hemingway’s old haunts during his time in Paris.

I wish I knew the story behind this statue near the Louvre Museum. (Obviously, the caption is my own addition.

A tavern called “Mannekin Pis” in Brussels, which is (appropriately) located kitty-corner from the infamous statue of a peeing boy. (How German of them.)

A rainy winter’s evening in Brussels.

Vivane (on the right) and her Belgian best friend Rosa getting oriented.

A horse-drawn carriage in Bruges’ main sqaure.

A four-legged-friend at a tea-shop in Bruges.

Outside of the Henri Maes Brewery in Bruges.

This, my friends, is precisely why Bruges is also known as the “Venice of the North.”

A little photo manipulation of a bridge in Bruges.

Basilique du Sacré-Cœur, Paris

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