Last Weekend in Brussels

Last weekend was an extravaganza!

B was in town from Suede (I love that in French:  Sweden = Suede).  Friday night, we had a stellar dinner at Frenchie, wherein we opted for the 38 euro tasting with entree + plat + dessert, but did it with wine pairings... boo-ya!  (But really, 38 euros for a 3-course fancytimes meal is pretty darn reasonable.)  You may remember my experience at the Frenchie Bar a Vins earlier this year, but we were pleasantly surprised to be seemingly the only native English speakers at the restaurant proper.  We booked our table way back in August (yes, for a December seating), and we were sure to book another table for February (during PV week) before we left.

Saturday, we Thalys-ed to Brussels for the main event of Jamie and Frida's leaving party.  We walked around that afternoon in Brussels, and it felt strange to no longer have an apartment or a home base there.  We realized that it would probably be our last time in Brussels for a long time, and it made us a little sentimental... and maybe even a little sad.

The leaving do was a full-on partytacular, with good eats and "sippin' tequila" and dancing and a lot of shenanigans (including swim caps, kilts, blonde wigs, and men wearing lipstick...)  Brussels is going to miss Jamie and Frida, that's for sure.  But London is lucky to get them.

Here are some scenes from our last 24 hours in BXL.

Creepy brides off Dansaert.

Foxy.

BOOM.

And don't you worry, we managed to hit up our old stompin' grounds, the winter market.  It was nice to see that the booths were just about the same as last year, and our old favorites "Snails Guy" and "Gothy Arrow Enthusiast-slash-Raindeer Pelt Peddler" were there.  But the tartiflette booth gets us every time.  There are few ills that a steaming bowl of cheesy potato and ham goodness can't conquer.

This is the only picture I have from the party, and it's not even from the party, but from the morning after.  Nothing like a cryptic yellow sticky note to prove that a good time was had.