Last month, Mikey and I decided to treat ourselves to a little Christmas weekend away. I've never been away around Christmas time before, in fact the most romantic-y Christmas-y thing I've done is wander around Winter Wonderland at Hyde Park...which doesn't really count considering it's a) in England and b) ruined because you have to stand around on a sweaty tube with about a million other Wonderlanders' the whole sorry way home. So, we decided to go to Bruges; mainly because Mikey loves Colin Farrell in a less than healthy manner but also because it's supposed to be a pretty sweet little city.
It actually turned out to be a sweet and unbelievably seriously ridiculously little city - you can walk from one end to the other without even working up a sweat, although - we almost sacked off touristy stuff completely after discovering the hotel dressing gowns and slippers. But, with the sweet promise of churros dipped in chocolate for me and a foot-long HotDog for Mikey (I'm serious - it was longer than my arm), we popped our coats on and wandered.
We spent most of our time rambling around actually, a large portion of time eating food and about 15 minutes climbing all 366 steps to the top of 'zee tower'. For the first time in my life we ordered room service which came up on a silver platter (!!!) and was delivered right to the foot of our bed by the waiter - to say I was giddy with glee was an understatement. Mikey got to send a 'zee-tower-is-closed-today'-with-the-actual-tower snapchat, and I got to eat chocolate to my hearts content and drink bubbly in a dressing gown. It was quite simply magical.
It really is a ridiculously beautiful city, all cobbled streets and chocolate shops. Although there's not heaps and heaps to do here other than eat, wander and wish you were Belgian, it was the most perfect, relaxing three days away right before a busy Christmas. As I sit here engaging in displacement activities to put off writing my dissertation, there is nowhere I would rather be than in our natty hotel room, slippers on, truffles in one hand and Cava in the other.
These pictures are actually causing my poor, work-riddled heart to ache.
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