Once we got off the plane, we searched for a quiet lounge room to contact his family and mine about our safe landing. This airport was incredible, more like a fancy city mall with high-end stores and restaurants all over the place. I thought it was unnecessary. We wound around that entire building probably five times trying to connect with the right people about getting access to some showers and somewhere to sleep.
As we waited, I felt as if someone had beaten me with a club and left me to die a slow death, I was so exhausted and my looks weren’t hiding that fact. Everyone else was so clean, and so skinny, and so nicely dressed. I did not fit in in Europe. I finally realized why my husband dressed the way he does… these people had great style. Americans and Virginians are fine with baggy jeans, a hoody, or a flannel button down... not here.
Clothes were not the only thing that were extravagant and different. After two hours of waiting, the airlines set us up with two taxi tickets, two free hotel lunches, and a hotel room at the Scandinavian hotel. This place was top notch. Neither of us looked like we belonged, two smelly travelers walk into an Indian themed ritzy hotel, desperate for a shower. The lady was kind enough to give us a room with a gorgeous view. The nineteenth floor was nice, but I would have showered anywhere.
Brussels and Belgium was nothing exciting, but then again, I only saw the inside of their airport, and it was 10 o’clock at night. No brussel sprouts or waffles like I expected. Pieter’s grandparents picked us up there and the adventure began!
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| Restless, waiting to board our flight to Brussels. |
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