One of the bizarre things about this job is sometimes you come to, give your eyes a good rub, and realize you're in a completely different city than you thought you were supposed to be in.
Today, that city is Brussels.
This morning, I once again got a 7am Eurostar, this time from London to the land of the Manneken Pis for a meeting. One meeting. One day. Return to the UK scheduled in time to hit a birthday party in the evening.
But over lunch, somewhere in between my leak soup and the overcooked spaghetti, plans changed and it was decided we would stay overnight. So here I am. Spending the night in Brussels before another big client meeting tomorrow. And having packed.... absolutely nothing. (Think about that one for a while... There you go... Not ideal.)
On a positive (and rather ironic) note, though, this hotel wins the prize for nicest hotel I have stayed in in the past five weeks (out of five). A particularly big hit with me are the Magritte prints in the bedroom and the Tintin figurines in the bathroom. Two Siskel and Ebert thumbs up for the Amigo.