We went to Brugge.
Brugge is in the wrong direction, further away from home. It's also in Broadripple, the center of the 20-something dance-club-hopping, social scene. That means the area is thick with loud girls, dressed like call girls, smoking, and filling the air with F-bombs as they wait impatiently for some guy, any guy, to buy them a drink, and guys wearing loafers without socks and way too much AXE*, scanning the crowd for a girl who won't disappear as soon as he buys her a drink, but won't force him to dance.
It also means that finding a parking spot is challenging. Like finding Osama Bin Laden is challenging.
That explains why it's taken us so long to get to Brugge.
Brugge is a Belgian styled restaurant. They also make their own seriously delicious Belgian-style beers.
But, the reason to make the trek to Brugge, what makes it worth the trip, is what they do to potatoes.
Pomme frites
(with Triple de Ripple and Wapihani brews)
These are not your children's french fries.
To accompany these unbelievably great fries are your choice of 12 house-made dipping sauces. They even make their own ketchup, people.
They come in three sizes. This is a large, perfect snack for two. But my favorite size is...
If I could choose my own nickname, it would be L'Enorme.
On an only remotely related note, and it's only remotely related because after Brugge, we walked down to The Monkey Tale to listen/watch some live music courtesy of The Bread and Butter Crew to make sure we got our money's worth out of the extortion/parking fee, if I had something to say about it, every band would have at least 2 drummers.
Good running,
Doug
*Any AXE is way too much AXE.
Numbers: 1.4 miles on the "rest day" course.
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