and one of them drilled my hand tonight while I was having a lovely relaxed dinner on the terrace of some local brasserie whose name I didn't learn. Now, four hours later, it looks like I'm wearing half a boxing glove, but at least it doesn't itch any more
For the travelogue, I'm in Brabant, (NO, I don't mean I'm in a toaster). Sadly, I'm also in the room next to the boyboss and can hear him polishing on the phone; I just hope he doesn't squeak loudly in his sleep as it will give me nightmares.
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