The tension this morning quickly evaporated from the night before. No use being aggravated about it when you're stuck together for another week. So off we went in search of breakfast. This time, I paid extra special attention to my map and the streets. And no, we have not been lost since.

On our way to Grote Market we stopped off at a small patisserie and had chocolate croissants and coffee for breakfast. I was also able to locate a shop that sold buttons. I have not mentioned it thus far, but in every country we have been to with the exception of Sweden, I have been able to locate a button. A request from one of my grandmother's several months ago when she first heard I was going on this trip.

We arrived at Grote Market and went in search of the local tourist information center. We were hoping they would have a copy of the map we had been given by our hostel. It had given a unique perspective of the city and there was a particular cathedral that you could walk up 366 steps to the top of it's belltower and look out onto the city. This was one of Jocelyn's few requests for while we were here. I had left the map back at our room and the information center proved to not be as informative as I had hoped. At least they didn't have that particular map. After playing twenty questions with Jocelyn I figured out what it was that she wanted (since she hadn't mentioned andything about going inside the cathedral, only that she wanted to see it) and I asked if the cathedral she wanted to go to was for a tour to go up its bell tower. SUCCESS! Because within two minutes of searching their interactive information site, I had found her cathedral. It was the Belfry Tower... at Grote Market.... where we had just been.

So back we went and paid to walk up a TINY winding staircase to the top of Belry Tower. I wanted to cry. It was an amazing view and we have many pictures to show for it, but let me just say, my legs were screaming at me despite the fact that we have been walking for the past 10 days. Then we had to walk back down. For the record, walking down is WAY better than going up!

After this, we needed sustenance. That's right folks, we were where it all started. Brugge, Belgium is supposedly where the french fry was invented. There are two families that own two little carts that stand opposite each other as they compete for who has the better fries. Jocelyn and I each took a side in the standoff and staked our lots with them.

Jocelyn won.

1) Should you ever be in Belgium and they offer Samurai Sauce... TAKE IT.

2) When in Brugge and you're facing the two stands (housed in front of the Belfry Tower), choose the right. You won't regret it.

Then we went in search once again for a little gnome for Maureen and then headed off to a small bar where we sat and had some fruity beer (the equivalent of a wine cooler) before heading back to pick up our bags and go to catch our train to Paris.

Did I mention it rained the entire time we were walking from the hostel to the train station?

We caught three different trains but finally made our arrival in Paris, France. It was time for Jocelyn to save the day because heaven knows I wasn't going to be any help in the communication department for this leg of the trip.

To begin, everyone was rude. No one would help and everyone kept bouncing her to someone else. On different floors of the station. Then, finally, some nice girl took pity and instructed Jocelyn on everything that needed to be done. She even got us our metro tickets and told us what stop we'd need.

Navigating the metro is a piece of cake once you've lived in DC. It took no time figuring out our stops and which to catch. Oddly enough, it was just my inability to figure out the ticket gate to go through that got me hung up, albeit, monentarily. You slide you ticket it, it gives it back and you go through. Should be simple. Except there are doors at the end. On some they open for you. Others you push through them. I stood there like a bafoon expecting it to open for me. Oi.

So, we got a little turned around and had to ask for directions but were finally able to locate our hotel. The receptionist didn't speak a lick of English and we were so frusterated and annoyed there wasn't any use in trying to talk too much to us. So we got our room, spent five minutes trying to unlock our door and finally muscled our way inside.

Our shower had no unit to hold the shower head. So when we wash our hair, it lays at our feet. The bathroom is in what looks to have been a closet and the beds are literally two inches apart. Oh, and the pillows are flat.

Seriously not that bad. Sucks if you're annoyed but we're not sharing with anyone, we have a working shower that isn't shared by the floor. Pop a blanket or a towel under your pillow and you're set. Yeah, it's good!

So we went off to call our parents. This proved to be a hassle because what they don't tell you about those phone cards you buy in the US is that they probably won't work. At least not at a public phone. It was nice to talk to some familiar voices and thank you so much for picking up!

Then it was off to sleep for our first full day in Paris.