Spent the day planning and booking reservations. I won’t say where I’m going until I’m there, which is fitting since I mentioned Paris in a previous post but I’ve opted to forego France altogether. Too much of a detour and I don’t feel it’s worth the time. Not this trip anyway. I know where my next 4 locations will be. Excited. Walked to the movies without looking at showtimes. Was hoping to catch a showing of "Inside Out". I’ve heard good things. A supposed return-to-form fo

I fucked up. Last day in Bruges. Or so I thought while packing my belongings for the next location. I was meeting friends and staying on their sofa for 4 nights. A break from the constant isolation. Needed, I think. Balance things. I packed everything and walked it over to Bruges Station. Took the train into Brussels-Midi station for a Eurostar train transfer, however, winging it has bit me in the ass in this instance. My mistake was careless. I didn’t book anything in advanc

4:27am. “Shaker boys, sha-ker boys!” Over and over, they chanted these words, charging through the front door, and scampering up the staircase. “Shaker boys, sha-ker boys!” Then, the music. “Shaker boy, sha-ker boys!” Their chants now accompanied by a pounding beat resounding through the house. It didn’t take long for Bruges police to come knocking. Neighbors three houses down phoned it in. The manager wasn’t pleased. He had the group of Netherlanders vacate the premises and

4:00am. Head-pounding music. Feet moving across the floor. Loud voices echoing throughout the house, chanting something indiscernible in Dutch. I was asleep before these events unfolded this morning. New guests at the place I’m residing, you see. They quieted but I’m not falling back asleep. Not a chance. Perhaps a blessing in disguise. I wanted to make up for the last two days anyway. Gent and Brussels were on the itinerary. Neither of which were ever a priority but I’m atte

Perhaps the isolation is taking it’s toll; Unmotivated. I have so many other places to discover but today, I don’t know. Walked through an old cemetery this morning, amongst the tombstones. Degraded stone carvings of Jesus Christ on every single one. Photographs, mostly old and monochromatic, of people who’ve passed, watching my every movement. My chest feels tighter here. More isolated walking amongst those who aren’t with us anymore. "Terminator: Genisys" premiered in Belgi

Laundry day. That’s about as extensive as my plans for sightseeing get. Wanted to relax after Antwerp. Fell asleep in the late afternoon and woke up around 9. Bored and restless by midnight. Left the house and wandered into Bruges. Experience what the nightlife had to offer. See the buildings lit up. Bars are open. Some more crowded than others. I’m always uncomfortable under these circumstances. Always have been. Roamed around Belfort Tower. Aimless. All the surrounding hist

Picture-esque weather today. Headed into Antwerp. While waiting for the train a young kid with a backpack reminded me to lighten up. Often times I’m too quick to look away from people when we make eye contact but a lot of the time I get a friendly smile. That’s what this kid did. We made eye contact and as I quickly began looking in another direction, I noticed at the corner of my eye he was smiling at me. I looked back at him and smiled. Felt good. General consensus: smile m

I wanted to get lost in Bruges today. Familiarize myself with the city visually. Bruges is an easy city to navigate. The overbearing towers are beacons. The Belfort tower brings you right to the city center and it’s clearly visible almost anywhere you are in Bruges. Easy to reach. Bruges certainly has that walking-through-time feel. Ralph Fiennes’ character in the film, “In Bruges”, describes it as a fairytale town. At one point in the film, Brendan Gleeson’s character conver

“After I killed them, I dropped the gun in the thames, washed the residue off my hands in the bathroom of a Burger King, and walked home to await instructions. Shortly thereafter the instructions came through— ‘Get the fuck out of London, you dumb fucking cunts. Get to Bruges.’ I didn’t even know where Bruges fucking was. It’s in Belgium.” — Ray, opening voiceover from the film, In Bruges. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit “In Bruges” was a factor in deciding my next location. I

Muggier than yesterday. Worried about not walking away with decent pictures. I took the Waterbus to a place called Kinderdijk. Pronounced Kinder-dek. Silent “J”. The largest concentration of windmills in Netherlands. This is the dutch imagery I associate with the culture. The open fields. The live stock. The wind mills. Soon as we docked I noticed a gorgeous house right next to the canal. Roosters ran amuck, chasing one another. A small horse with spotted grey skin and white