I was determined to have as Belgian an experience as possible. I visited the little peeing guy. I ate a waffle smothered in chocolate and chantilly, aka sweet whipped cream. I gawked at a lot of Magrittes.
What I wanted above all, however, for the brief few days I recently found myself bouncing around Brussels, Bruges and Antwerp, was to consume as much beer and as many fries as was socially acceptable. While I left feeling as though I'd given my best to a country that takes its carbohydrate-dense products seriously, when I got home, I wondered if I might have made better progress by doubling up.
