Last night, post chalice draining, Oliver and I wandered around the city center. Eventually, during a quest for ice cream, I struck up a conversation with Emily and Maude, two Belgian girls, and we then proceeded to drink (for free since they knew someone who worked there) and talk with them till 4am. They were smart, rad, and cute, generally just really fun to hang out with.

So this morning, we went to eat at a restaurant reccomended by them. They not being tourists, the restaurant menu was, how you say...in french. And so, equipped with a french vocabulary extending not far past "patisserie" and "fromagerie," we managed to order something delicious through our tried and true method of "pointy talky."

After some lunch and a chocolate mousse that left me writhing in the tastiest of diabetic comas, we met some more chickas (a belgian, a portuguese, a greecian, and a south african), talked with them for a while and made plans to meet up later tonight.

The rest of the day was touristy, filled with buying shit and looking at things. Yippee.

Now we're attempting to decipher belgian tv. It's far weirder than you could imagine.
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