Surfing along, I came upon your blog and your wistful comment, "on certain days, for no particular reason, I really miss Belgium," and I thought, yes, yes, I do too. I miss zuikerwaffels, cobblestoned streets, the lelijk eentje, old women on bikes, the GB, Asterix and Obelix, mossy stone walls, ancient brick houses held up with massive iron dates like 1628, thatched houses, the somber thrill of walking along the edge of some woods and coming upon an old Nazi pillbox. I miss biking to Ypres through the fields of brussel sprouts. I miss klompen and frites met mayonaise, and I miss beef tongue and the heavenly bread smeared with chocopasta. I miss the smell of the sea at Ostende. I miss crossing under the Schelde from Antwerpen to the Linkeroever. I miss the Gravensteen and Bokrijk and Brussels. Oh, what times I had back then, when I was young and Belgium was all the world to me. Sigh. Yes, I really miss Belgium sometimes. What do you miss? I'm curious.
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Surfing along, I came upon your blog and your wistful comment, "on certain days, for no particular reason, I really miss Belgium," and I thought, yes, yes, I do too. I miss zuikerwaffels, cobblestoned streets, the lelijk eentje, old women on bikes, the GB, Asterix and Obelix, mossy stone walls, ancient brick houses held up with massive iron dates like 1628, thatched houses, the somber thrill of walking along the edge of some woods and coming upon an old Nazi pillbox. I miss biking to Ypres through the fields of brussel sprouts. I miss klompen and frites met mayonaise, and I miss beef tongue and the heavenly bread smeared with chocopasta. I miss the smell of the sea at Ostende. I miss crossing under the Schelde from Antwerpen to the Linkeroever. I miss the Gravensteen and Bokrijk and Brussels. Oh, what times I had back then, when I was young and Belgium was all the world to me. Sigh. Yes, I really miss Belgium sometimes. What do you miss? I'm curious.
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