When I was a kid, my parents saw a lot of movies. I think they went almost every Saturday night. I used to love to peek at the scribbled piece of paper they left for the babysitter with the title of the movie they were going to see. One of those titles, which intrigued me, was If it's Tuesday, This Must be Belgium. I asked my mom to explain the meaning to me, and she told me that when many (most in those days?) Americans travel to Europe, they often go on whirlwind tours in which quantity is more important than quality; in their hurry to see it all, they end up losing track of where they are on any given day. That movie looked like such fun to me, and the bonus was that the only other Suzanne I knew - Suzanne Pleshette - was one of the stars.

This movie poster was taken in the Grote Markt in Antwerp. The huge tour bus obscures the view of the Brabo fountain, a favorite spot for tourists to pose. And pose we did the day we arrived in Belgium! — This movie poster was taken in the Grote Markt in Antwerp. The huge tour bus obscures the view of the Brabo fountain, a favorite spot for tourists to pose. And pose we did the day we arrived in Belgium!

What does that movie have to do with my life now, you ask? I had the chance to visit Belgium last week, this time as a tourguide of sorts. For my first summer visitor, that is. It's the high point of Visting Our Expat Friends in Amsterdam season, and I'm experiencing this season for the first time. In addition to endless discussions about the weather, expats engage in serious deliberations about houseguests at this time of year. It's the "talk of the town", as the song by The Pretenders reminds us. I remember back in the first blush of the move, when I posted photos of our apartment and shouted out mass invitations (via Facebook) to come visit. Soon my expat friends with more experience sat me down and reminded me of Ben Franklin's famous quote: "Guests like fish begin to smell after three days." The problem, I was told, is that sometimes visitors you hardly knew back in the U.S. will ask to stay, and stay, and stay. When you ask when they plan on leaving, they may reply, like in the song, "Maybe tomorrow. Maybe someday."

Maybe because this is our first year here, I look forward to the short-term emigration of each one of our visitors. I think the visits give me the chance to release my inner teacher and recreate the thrill and agony of field trips as I lead enthusiastic people (stand-ins for my 4th and 5th graders) through the crowded streets of Amsterdam. Recently, I worried that no one would even want to visit, for fear of turning into fodder for this blog. But my teacher-friend Susan was up for the challenge. I broke her in with four days in Amsterdam, before we set off for Belgium. Happily, in keeping with the title of the film, we were there on a Tuesday.

Speaking of my 5th graders, here we are on the last day of school last year. That was a lifetime ago. I miss them! — Speaking of my 5th graders, here we are on the last day of school last year. That was a lifetime ago. I miss them!

The phrase, "The blind leading the blind" springs to mind when I first thought of leading visitors around. I'm not exactly known for my sharp sense of direction, and I'm a relative newcomer to Amsterdam, after all. Luckily, Susan was content to wander the streets with me, with no particular agenda in mind. And after only two days in Amsterdam, she had the courage (or sheer stupidity) to agree to go off on a bike ride together. Our rear ends were on bike seats for five hours, and Susan lived and walked to tell the tale.

Here we are at a charming little town along the Amstel River, Ouderkerk aan de Amstel. We took this photo at the midway point of the ride, so Susan is still smiling and talking to me.

Any guess how long it took us to line up this shot so we could include the windmill photo-bombing us? She's still smiling, though perhaps a bit nervously, as we pedaled along through the tall grasses along the river, with nary another person in… — Any guess how long it took us to line up this shot so we could include the windmill photo-bombing us? She's still smiling, though perhaps a bit nervously, as we pedaled along through the tall grasses along the river, with nary another person in view. We did see a lot of houses and sheep, though.

Hosting houseguests thrusts you back into times long ago, when you lived side by side with people who weren't family. In other words, living the expat life transports you back to your camp or college days when you had roommates and had to share bathrooms and flaunt your bad habits in front of each other. As grownups, we usually only go out to dinner with other grownups, and then retreat to our own base camps to safely inflict our peculiar patterns of life on our family and only on our family . Being an expat forces you to spend extended time with friends and family who decamp in your Amsterdam apartment, commingling in the one shower, two toilets, and dollhouse kitchen. So, just like you knew intimate things about your roommates, you certainly know critically important things about your houseguests, like who dumps his belongings all over the place, and how she takes her coffee. Maybe the size of our Amsterdam apartments are the reason so many expats suggest spending a few days here and then hitting the road. And thus, Susan and I headed to Belgium for Part Two of the "blind leading the blind" tour.

You don't need Rick Steves (or Suzanne Vine) to tell you that the train station alone in Antwerp makes the visit worthwhile. I'm guessing arriving at Penn Station New York in the good old days might have been like this. It really does make you excit… — You don't need Rick Steves (or Suzanne Vine) to tell you that the train station alone in Antwerp makes the visit worthwhile. I'm guessing arriving at Penn Station New York in the good old days might have been like this. It really does make you excited about seeing a city when the first sight to greet you is a spectacular train station.

In a nutshell, Belgium is about the chocolate, the coffee, the beer, the seafood, and the architecture. So if you don't have time to read the rest of the blog, you now know what I'm going to take several paragraphs and even more photographs to say.

Here we are at Normo, a hip and happening coffee place that got a 9.3 on Foursquare. If you are over 40, you have no idea what that even means. I only do because Ben showed me how to use it to find restaurants, coffee, parks, and stores as I wa… — Here we are at *Normo*, a hip and happening coffee place that got a 9.3 on *Foursquare*. If you are over 40, you have no idea what that even means. I only do because Ben showed me how to use it to find restaurants, coffee, parks, and stores as I wander around. Susan is enjoying a warm chocolade (hot chocolate): half a glass of dark chocolate chips, with warm milk poured on top. All thoughts of PARCC, NJ ASK, summatives, and other joys of teaching melted away along with the chips.

This sums up the attitude towards beer in Belgium.

Here we are at the hip and happening sushi restaurant, Zaowang, which more than earned its impressive 9.5 Foursquare rating. The only thing I can say in our defense is that this sushi boat was shared among the two of us. This fish certainly hel… — Here we are at the hip and happening sushi restaurant, *Zaowang*, which more than earned its impressive 9.5 *Foursquare* rating. The only thing I can say in our defense is that this sushi boat was shared among the two of us. This fish certainly helped us understand Belgium's well-deserved reputation for fine seafood. No stinking houseguest fish at this place!

And here's one of the national treasures in Belgium: mussels. I only wish you could taste these for yourself. If you are ever in Antwerp, go to Docks, alongside the River Schelde and eat yourself into a seafood stupor, as we did. We did take a … — And here's one of the national treasures in Belgium: mussels. I only wish you could taste these for yourself. If you are ever in Antwerp, go to *Docks,* alongside the River Schelde and eat yourself into a seafood stupor, as we did. We did take a nice long walk along the river after dinner.

One great thing about Antwerp (or most small cities in Europe, for that matter) is how many people are out and about at night. Every restaurant and bar had outdoor seating, and there were families, groups of studenty-types, and older folks like us (O.K., Susan, like me. Susan is still in her 40's, for another New York minute). It doesn't hurt that it stays light out until nearly 11 p.m.

Taken at 10:15 p.m., according to my trusty iPhoto info.

Here's Susan with her new best friends, a group of Chinese students who are studying in Belgium.  Asking Susan to pose with them was kind of like putting glasses and a hat on Casey and "asking" him to let me snap his photo. So glad she was… — Here's Susan with her new best friends, a group of Chinese students who are studying in Belgium. Asking Susan to pose with them was kind of like putting glasses and a hat on Casey and "asking" him to let me snap his photo. So glad she was a good sport! One of the young ladies is studying to be a teacher, and when she found out we are teachers, she gazed at us as if we were Beyoncé and Taylor Swift. That was a first!

Here's Antwerp from the top of the Mas Museum Ann de Stroom. We learned a little about the golden age in Antwerp, but the highlight for us was this rooftop view. We had the place to ourselves! You can see from the flags that Antwerp was gearing up f… — Here's Antwerp from the top of the *Mas Museum Ann de Stroom*. We learned a little about the golden age in Antwerp, but the highlight for us was this rooftop view. We had the place to ourselves! You can see from the flags that Antwerp was gearing up for the Tour de France. Who knew that part of it takes place outside of France every year? Not I! There were a lot of fit-as-a-fiddle types out cycling who may have been getting ready for the race. Or else they were just regular people on their way to work. I wasn't sure. Plenty of cyclists, but not as many bike lanes as in the Netherlands, so the bikes encroached on our walking paths. They need to come to Amsterdam to learn how it's done.

From Antwerp, we took a short train ride to Bruges. In Belgium, it is called Brugge. Don't get Peter started on why languages insist on changing the perfectly good original names of cities and countries. Can't we just call it Brugge? (and Rome: Roma? etc.). I had been to Bruges (sorry) over 20 years ago, pre-children, and was curious to see if it had changed. Let's just say it has definitely been discovered, although some unexpected hot weather seemed to have kept the tourists confined to the center of town. Once you got outside the chocolate/lace/souvenir center, there were very few people, so we could appreciate the architecture and work up an appetite for some chocolate.

I don't think I'll ever get tired of scenes like this.

I noticed how they incorporated modern architecture in with the traditional in Bruges and in Antwerp. Maybe you think it's glaring? I loved it. It seems like a great place for architect/design folks to visit. Dana Jenkins McGuffey, are you… — I noticed how they incorporated modern architecture in with the traditional in Bruges and in Antwerp. Maybe you think it's glaring? I loved it. It seems like a great place for architect/design folks to visit. Dana Jenkins McGuffey, are you listening?

By now, I hope I have convinced you that Belgium (just a two hour train ride away) is a great side trip for you if you visit Amsterdam. I hope I haven't scared you off with Ben Franklin quotes about stinking fish. Actually, when I first read that quote, I gulped when I realized that by that measure, I have stayed with our friends Kate and Howard on my journeys back to the U.S. long enough to decompose in their spare bedroom. So even with the risk of fish stench, when you visit friends in faraway places, there is the chance to spend quality time together and really have the chance to connect in a meaningful way.

When you travel together, you find out things about your friends you never knew. Important things, like the fact that Susan wrote a paper on Jan Van Eyck in college for an art history class. Here she is with her idol, in a quiet courtyard in An… — When you travel together, you find out things about your friends you never knew. Important things, like the fact that Susan wrote a paper on Jan Van Eyck in college for an art history class. Here she is with her idol, in a quiet courtyard in Antwerp. I do have another photo of her on the train to Antwerp, which I am not posting because I am a nice person (and because I am withholding it for possible blackmail in the future).

Having visitors here gives me the chance to feel like I have settled in, like this place is beginning to feel like home. Since my sense of direction is as poor as my biblical knowledge, I had to go back to find out the source of the "blind leading the blind" reference. It turns out it's from the Book of Luke, and Luke told his followers in a parable: "Can a blind man lead a blind man? Will they not both fall into a pit? A student is not above his teacher, but everyone who is fully trained will be like his teacher." I think that means that after a few days of me toting you around Amsterdam, you will know it well enough to get your own self around. Or something like that. And let me just apologize in advance for the days I show up on your doorstep in the U.S. wearing my bad habits like a fur coat, smelling like a rotten fish. Thanks, Susan, for a wonderful visit. Now I have to finish cleaning up and getting ready for our next visitors!

Here's something else Belgium is famous for. To me, he looks like the Charlie Brown of Belgium. — Here's something else Belgium is famous for. To me, he looks like the Charlie Brown of Belgium.

We had a little heat wave here last week, with temperatures and humidity that brought back "fond" memories of N.J. summers. Here's the little square near our apartment, with a giant wading pool. Imagine how much houseguests would begin to stink afte… — We had a little heat wave here last week, with temperatures and humidity that brought back "fond" memories of N.J. summers. Here's the little square near our apartment, with a giant wading pool. Imagine how much houseguests would begin to stink after long airconditioner-less nights!