Just a little over a 2-hour drive on an end-of-summer Friday evening, crossing over from Germany into Holland and finally across the Belgian border brought us to Brussels for the weekend.

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 In itself, the city doesn’t jump at you with its beauty or irresistible charm, but it certainly has something about it: Flemish town houses, Parisien standard bakeries, a maze of one way streets and a hotch potch of residents. More than half of the city’s residents are immigrants, and you can feel this as you traverse its streets and stroll through its parks.

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 We spent the majority of our time on the wonderful terrace of our host, close to the European Quarter. Lazy tourism but also a wonderful kind. Sipping red wine by candlelight late into the night (with only the occasional sprinkle of light rain) whilst conversing with a table full of guests, naturally from all over Europe.

Brussels seems to be the ERASMUS for grown-ups. And I just about remember how much fun that looked like at university.