When I first turned up in Brussels on a gloomy afternoon at the beginning of January, I was in a horrific mood. Horrific.
I’d was hungover from my birthday, I had those post-celebration blues, I’d missed trains and been delayed, the weather was shite, I was homesick, and on top of that I was convinced Brussels was going to be terrible, thanks to the really rough area I had to walk through to get to the Hostel. (I had fun playing ‘Brussels or South East London’ with my friends on our group chat. Do they even have bin men in the south of town???)