Waiting for my Eurostar home to leave. So no, no miracle on my last day in Brussels

Waiting for my Eurostar home to leave. So no, no miracle on my last day in Brussels. I didn’t really try very hard. I was in Cine Paris for less than 5 minutes, 2 rubbish American films, then to Café Jimmy for 1 Heineken and watch some Bulgarian music, to 5th Avenue, passing some very poor looking street girls; no one in 5th Avenue of much interest, except Brazilian Aisha I know from before and Moroccan Leila. I had a drink with her but then left, for a Brussels Grill. I was now desperate for bed. I awoke in the early hours and watching some mad doctor in a white coat French film, and then The Big Sleep dubbed into French, before I fell asleep again.

324 back in the Hotel Max lounge

324 back in the Hotel Max lounge, with my can of Jupiler, after a long time. The last afternoon of my long holiday. Any miracles left? If Fifth Avenue is no good (it won’t be) I hope I can force myself up to Gare du Nord and the Sexyworld kabins, as I know that is the only thing that really floats my boat, and then take a last stroll up & down the Rue d’Aerschot windows. A Brussels Grill before bed, and then cela, c’est tout. That is it.

Bloody hell Brussels is a lot colder than Vienna

Bloody hell Brussels is a lot colder than Vienna. Vienna was balmy, like a heatwave. Brussels is freezing. Oh for the innocent days when all I was scared of in Brussels was pickpockets. Fairly low-key military presence, four soldiers standing talking together in the Gare du Nord, and none at all outside the Hotel Plaza as there was for months after the Brussels lockdown.