Well, just my luck, the last morning I want to spend an hour in the hotel lounge

Well, just my luck, the last morning I want to spend an hour in the hotel lounge before a last hour of freedom in Brussels, there are two very loud Americans here, with their big bag of crisps and bottles of drink, and music blaring out very loudly. Like, we ALL share your taste in (headbanger) music. Thanks. They are sitting right next to each other—why they need to talk SO loud? Listening to that type of music probably they are hard of hearing. A grey, fresh Brussels morning. 11am. I have checked out but my Eurostar is not until 2.56. 2½ hours for me to kill. Waking Friday evening I felt NO desire to go out anywhere, so I didn’t. Three days of solid drinking left me feeling saturated and fatigued in the brain. Already I look forward to my next trip back to Brussels, but that will probably be the New Year now. Oh, there’s a soldier! Just walking slowly down the road checking cars out.
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