
The Belgium Waffles were unreal!
We were also ready for the rain to stop. The backpacks were loaded underneath the bus with each change and by the time we reached the airport, both packs were a muddy mess. Once we arrived in Belgium, it was a forty-five minute bus ride from the airport to Gare du Midi, our main bus station. From Midi, we take the Metro to our stop for the street where the hotel is located – all while rain was drenching us from head to toe. It ended up being one full day of wet and muddy travel! BUT, we were now in Brussels and ready to explore.

Manneken-Pis boy, without one of his many costumes
The story of how Wee Manneken found a place to perpetually pee varies with who tells it, but one story we both liked had a little boy saving the city from enemy explosive attack by wetting the burning fuses, much in the same manner he portrays to this day. The lucky little guy is often hooked up to a keg of beer and cups are given to people passing by during certain festivals. We were most disappointed to learn this week there were no such festivals.

Atomium, near Mini-Europe Park
Taking a walk to find a nice place for a drink, which we seemed to be doing quite often these days, we turned from a small side street. It was there, without a doubt, we’d stumbled upon the most singularly spectacular sight we’d seen so far – The Grand -Place to the French, the Grote Markt area to the Dutch. It was a good two minutes before either of us spoke. Our jaws simply refused to close – it was that stunning. The Archduchess Isabella, daughter of Filip II of Spain wrote about the square during her visit to Brussels on September 5th, 1599: “Never have I seen something so beautiful and exquisite as the town square of the city where the town hall rises up into the sky. The decoration of the houses is most remarkable “. That’s exactly what I would have said, too if I could have actually formed a sentence.

Pictures cannot do the Grand Place justice!
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Posted by whatboundaries
Trying to navigate toward one of the most spectacularly beautiful seaside villages in all of Ireland was a challenge. The Dingle peninsula was indeed beautiful, but managing our own car through the narrow paths which the Irish call roads was an interesting experience! Mother Nature was being kind at least – the clouds were rising and the extraordinary loveliness of the countryside was all around us. Rainbows were everywhere we looked. Mountains flowed into valleys so deep it was impossible to see.
These “huts” are though to have been the residence of the early folks here in Ireland. There have been some dating back to 12th century, although the technique of these buildings goes back to 3100BC.
They certainly found the perfect view to build their “towns” of huts.
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