On a failed traveling

So, here I am now, at one (and maybe only) open cafe at this hour. I’m pampering my self with a glass of unexpectedly too-strong Irish coffee. This gloomy weather is killing me. The clouds sucked out my energy andd the raindrops sometimes get me uncomfort. Me and my travelling buddy have been walking for hours under the grey sky and pouring rain. *deep sigh* Sometimes I wish I didn’t expect too much from a holiday, because when you expect more, you’ll often get less. Don’t even dream of romantic getaway, sunshiny day or picturesque scenes, because chances are you might get a clash, dull sky and unmatching mixed-up between historical buildings and modern architectures. When I was trying to enter the museum, it turned out the entrance-fee is not worth the sloppy artifacts inside it. When I want to have lunch in a budget Viatnemese restaurant, it’s not open yet. I’ve been drroling to sit quietly on one supersize-comfy couch in one of the cafes, then the waiter slammed its door in front of my nose. Don’t dream too high baby, unless you prepare to fall hard.
But, this is the part when booze do their job at its best. Thanks for the jam-packed bar with more than 300 beer-brands aligned. Thanks God I’m in Brussels.

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