Madness.  Delicious madness.  Sometimes I worry that when I travel, I lack a sufficient number of radios.  On this day in Brussels I had about eleven radios with me.  Pockets jammed, three radio headphones, a walkman strapped to each ankle, a frustratingly bulky tube-driven clarity-challenged cabinet model on my shoulder, and a cart full of transistor jobs pulled along in tow buoyed me.  No need to panic just yet.  And there is so much to see in Brussels!

Bumpity-bump.  I dragged the gadget-laden cart through the often rough-hewn sidestreets of the old quarter and the museum district.  Rarely was I suspected of being a tourist.  Somehow, I must have blended into the local scene.  I remember buying some radios in the square and throwing them.

I consider myself to be a clever traveler.  Seeking three squares a day on the road is laudable.  In the restaurant, seated, hands full, and gulping wildly provides an excellent opportunity to clandestinely gaze upon fellow diners.  With eyes narrowed, I often detect strangers trying to pretend that they are not staring at me!  There are some strange folk in this world.  Some argue that I needn't travel far to find out.

The people in Brussels were quite pleasant when we visited.  A remarkable festival bloomed upon our visit.  I'd like to say that I planned it that way - you know, timed just right, but it's not like I carry a bunch of watches.  Why bother?

Enough now about our trip to Brussels.  On to more important things.  A decent pair of shoes can make or break one's day.  Comfort is key, of course.  An awesome pair of socks doesn't hurt, either.  When we travel, we find ourselves walking quite a bit more than we had expected.  That generates a substantial quantity of dirty socks.  No surprise there.  Socks can easily be washed in hotel room sinks/tubs, and then they can be hung dry.  It would be quite gauche to have them hanging in public view.  One doesn't air one's (recently) dirty laundry.

Do you run through museums?  I take 'em at about 5 mph (8 kph), sprinting, sweating, and carefully picking my way past and around fellow guests.  I hold my camera and shoot photos at right angles to my path of motion, hoping that the images will not come out too blurry.  One can best appreciate art from a photo album or computer screen in the comfort of one's own home.  No? 

Fighting a powerful temptation to arrange radios (owned and/or borrowed) in a grid pattern, I stood for eleven hours in one spot.  City squares, parks, gardens, museums, restaurants, and churches whizzed (or scuttled) past me.  And an occasional cold beer.  Eventually we began to tire, so when our hotel passed by, we jumped on board for a good night's sleep.