Karaoke was inexplicably shut. Although one lesson I have learned quite quickly in Brux is:
NEVER BELIEVE ANYTHING WRITTEN ON A WEBSITE, EVER
Anyway, I phoned S and she said find a bar, I'll meet you there. The bars on the Place du Grand Sablon look like they would hoover up my weekly salary in an instant so I walked down to the rond-point and took a left. Chez Richard is tiny and has a fat Jack Russell bitch on a stool. What more could you want. Oh, the wine is €3 a glass. S seemed very lost so I scribbled in my filofax and played a game on my phone that I didn't understand but appeared to be winning quite outrageously. J was allegedly meeting us at the Karaoke too although he was not answering his phone. And then S was there, in all her charming young Russian-ness.
So we sat in the warm and I drank cheap wine and the dog was really, really cute. No Karaoke tonight but a lovely new friend and then a bone-shakingly-cold wait for the tram. It's like being steeped in ice out there tonight. It always worries me that you have to challenge moving traffic to board the tram in the middle of the road. I'm sure I've had dreams like that and they do not end well.