Diary of a visit – 2

(Second part of a series; first part can be found here).

We – Mom, Dad and I – were walking on a quiet, narrow lane near the Grand Place in Brussels when we were approached by a man who seemed to be looking for directions.

“Gare du Midi?”, he asked, pointing at a map he had opened across his arms.

He was a round figure, short, plump and bald. His movements were quick and designed to attract attention. I assumed he was nervous.

Diary of a visit

The Brussels skyline is shrouded in mist.  Tall buildings in the distance appear as hazy outlines, as if a film of translucent paper was covering a photograph in a book.  It has been drizzling on and off through the day, with temperatures bordering 15 degrees celcius and the wind chill making it seem like winter.  Mom and dad are taking things bravely: they managed a few hours outside with just a thin sweater on.