Here's the Grote Markt in Brussels, the giant square with ornate guildhalls, the Town Hall, and a building known as the King's House. And a whole lot of tourists. More than a few people have suggested this is the only sight worth traveling to Brusse… — Here's the *Grote Markt* in Brussels, the giant square with ornate guildhalls, the Town Hall, and a building known as the King's House. And a whole lot of tourists. More than a few people have suggested this is the only sight worth traveling to Brussels to see. Why do so many Amsterdam expats give Brussels such low marks on its travel report card?

Little known fact: Peter is hard at work at this exact moment on groundbreaking research into an issue of paramount importance to all of us. His topic: what makes one place a must-visit, while another spot, sometimes right next door, is shunted to the side? When he's not immersed in this research, which he says may bring him the Nobel Prize, he dabbles in his "other" job, working for Akzo-Nobel, the Dutch company responsible for bringing us here. Let's take a look at his potential Nobel Prize-winning work. (Do they give Nobel prizes for important work like this?) We have to look no further than our own small neighborhood in Amsterdam for Peter's research; here, we can clearly see evidence of the popularity principal at work.

The Italian restaurant on the corner is always packed. When I walk Casey in the evening, I can peek in and see crowded tables full of happy people. Sometimes, we are among those happy people and someone else is probably looking in at me. Just a short block away, there's another Italian place. There, you can always get a seat - any seat you choose. The owner, a friendly and dashing-looking guy I've nicknamed the Italian George Clooney, in contrast, is often sitting at a table outside with a cigarette while a few couples rattle around inside the largely empty restaurant. We have a special place in our heart for Italian George Clooney (a.k.a Bruno). When we were brand new to Amsterdam, he invited Peter over for a pasta-making play date. That came about because once while eating there, Peter complimented Bruno on the delicious fresh pasta. He admitted that although he loves to cook, he can't seem to master making his own fresh pasta. That led to Bruno inviting him to come learn one afternoon. To be fair, the folks at the popular place are also incredibly friendly. When Rachel was having difficulty walking, they asked every day how she was feeling. Both restaurants have my back when Peter is out of town and I'm in charge of the late-night walk. Especially when we were new in town, these were the people who at least knew who I was, and smiled at me. I'm eternally grateful.

But let's get back to the difference between these two restaurants which becomes even starker in the light-until-10:30 p.m. summer evenings. In the summertime in Amsterdam, when tables spill out onto the sidewalks, a restaurant's height on the popularity totem pole is there in full view for all to see. But just how does a restaurant- or a travel destination - get to the sunny side of the street?

And what explains the difference between the two places? It's not the food, since the food is as good or maybe a tad better at the lonely restaurant. Somehow, the popular place has acquired a buzz, and that buzz is self-perpetuating. You peek in and see it's full, and think, "Hey, that's a place I'd like to go." And when you peek into the other place, you wonder what's wrong, and why it's almost always empty. And then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: the lonely gets lonelier, while the Queen Bee buzzes on. Before I go any further, I just want to let you know I did not make up the Queen Bee/Wannabe categories. They were created by Rosalind Wiseman, who wrote the book about middle school girl cliques: Queen Bees & Wannabes. Thinking about why one place is adored while the other is shunned reminds me of the power structure in middle school. Sorry to dredge up any bad memories you might have of that wonderful time of life.

Here's the quintessential theme song for those un-loved legions of restaurants, travel destinations, and, of course, people.

Now let's travel to Brussels, Belgium, which we did the other weekend. It's a short two-hour train ride away from Amsterdam, and yet a world away in terms of the buzz. Not a single one of our expat friends recommended we visit Brussels. This may have had something to do with the terrorist attacks in 2016, which certainly crippled tourism there. But fear of terrorism doesn't entirely explain the bad rap Brussels gets, and the bad rep it has. To the expat in Amsterdam, it's all about Bruges. And some of us may venture to Ghent or Antwerp, but never ever Brussels. We’ve heard it called boring and bland, and not worth even a weekend. And why is that? I watched this video when we first arrived in Amsterdam, and it was the first of many slings and arrows I heard slung about Belgium. Keep in mind the video was created by a Belgian.

How can two tiny countries who share a border, and a language - although only partly, since in some parts of Belgium they speak French, not Dutch - be so very different? Let's take a look at some of the ways these fraternal twins part company. First off, there's the Chocolate Tourism. We just don't have the chocolate selection that our neighbors in Brussels enjoy.

Loving chocolate as I do elevates Easter into a special time of year for me. I'll put aside the memories of the Easter-egg hunt I was invited to when I was 9 years old. Exhilarated by this new experience, I stuffed dozens of malted-milk balls into my mouth as I hunted. That was the last malted milk ball this Jewish gal ever consumed. Lesson learned.

Here's some anatomically correct chocolate. Let me introduce you to Mannekin Pis (roughly translated as Lil' Piddler, although that may just be his rap name). He's a small bronze statue/fountain who sprays water out of his equipment. Periodically, he's dressed up in various costumes. I'll show you that later in the post. According to the Brussels city website, he's a symbol both of Brussels, and of the Belgian sense of humor. You can find him by following the tourists who come to take his photo. Or you can buy the chocolate made in his image.

These chocolate tools were so lifelike we had to take a second look to make sure they weren't really tools. The "rust" is cocoa powder.

Brussels also outdoes Amsterdam when it comes to flea markets. The Jeu de Balle Market has something for everyone. We didn't buy a thing, but enjoyed wandering the aisles looking through some nice finds (silver and pottery) and some junk. It's everything you want in a flea market.

Lots and lots of musical instruments, including violins that made me feel guilty for not practicing.

Here, Jesus and GI Joe strike up a conversation. Only at a flea market!

We also visited the antiques flea market, Le Sablon, which catered to a more upscale crowd. The silver is polished and the goods are safely nestled under tents. it's in a lovely neighborhood, so it's worth a look. The manicured gardens in Brussels reminded me of Paris. I think in Amsterdam, we would see climbing equipment for kids, rather than sculpted bushes and statues.

I don't remember ever seeing statues with their arms draped around each other. Correct me if I'm wrong.

While Amsterdam has more than its share of wonderful museums, it doesn't have a lot in the way of street art. Brussels definitely wins on that score. I don't know why there is so little adorning the buildings and walls in Amsterdam. It makes walking around and suddenly coming upon it so much fun. And it adds color to the drab days of Winter. And Spring. And Summer. And Fall.

The architecture in Brussels is like a mash-up of Amsterdam and Paris. There are a lot of Flemish- style buildings, but also the grander ones that remind me of Paris. Hard to choose between the two. It depends on my mood.

These weren't just gargoyles, but full on sculptures adorning this building. Stunning, to quote my friend Vera!

Here's the Grote Markt in Brussels, the giant square with the stunning architecture. More than a few people have suggested this is the only sight worth traveling to Brussels to see.

What else does Brussels have to offer the jaded expat traveler? There’s beer of every sort, fries, and waffles for low budgets; and shining Michelin stars for high budgets. In fact, a French colleague of Peter’s told us he thinks the restaurants in Brussels are better than what Paris can serve up. Mon dieu! Scandalous words for a Frenchman to utter. We did have some delish French food over the weeeknd. I appreciated the chance to cobble together an understanding of the menus, which were in French and Dutch. I speak passable restaurant-French and restaurant-Dutch. It’s when I have to do something other than eat that I’m often lost. It wasn't just the food, but also the friendly service that stood out in Brussels. I've written quite a bit (O.K., a whole lot) about the somewhat lackadaisical and sometimes curt/rude service in Amsterdam. Even my Dutch friends and colleagues say you just need to cross the border into Belgium and you'll find a world of difference. I smiled when I saw all the buzz this French waiter recently received for his rude attitude. For those of you not following this headline news, a waiter born in France and working in Vancouver was fired from his job for being rude to customers. He filed a complaint against his employers, alleging he wasn't being rude...he's just French. Anyhow, even if this stereotype is still somewhat true in Paris (and some would say it isn't), you can go to Brussels to get your French food served with a smile.

Here's Mannekin Pis, the symbol of Brussels I mentioned earlier. It's also the name of my friend Seanette's favorite frites place in Amsterdam. Now that I  know what it means, I won't think of those fries in the same way again. Ever. — Here's Mannekin Pis, the symbol of Brussels I mentioned earlier. It's also the name of my friend Seanette's favorite frites place in Amsterdam. Now that I know what it means, I won't think of those fries in the same way again. Ever.

Here, Mannekin Pis seems to be dressed as the pope. He has also been dressed as Elvis, Nelson Mandela, and a Tour de France cyclist. Sometimes he's decked out in outfits to call attention to serious issues, like AIDS and the living conditions for farmers in Africa. For those of you with an interest in fashion, here's some photos of him in his various costume changes.

And when you are too full to fit in another morsel, you can window-shop for lace. I’m guessing there used to be much more of it on display, but now just a few relics hang in there, nudged aside by all of the chocolate, the fries, and the beer. Again, who knows why lace is such a Belgian thing. Didn’t people in the Netherlands also want to get in on the lace-making gig? By the way, I don’t remember seeing a multiracial window display at a lace shop until I happened upon this one in Brussels.

Brussels is also home to the Magritte Museum, with the largest collection in the world of this Belgian surrealist painter's work. Amsterdam may have Rembrandt and Van Gogh, but the Belgians have not just Magritte, but their beloved comic book stars, including Tintin, and the blue guys who made it to American T.V: the Smurfs. In fact, Belgium is known as the birthplace of the comic strip. There's even a museum devoted to comic strips, but we didn't make it there. Even without a trip to the museum, you can spot some of those comic strips right up on the walls of the city, so you can enjoy them as you walk around.

There's something both unnerving and calming about Magritte's paintings. I don't think I understood the message behind any of them, but I tried.

Here's a Belgian comic book I spotted at the pharmacy earlier this week. From the looks of it, the term Belgian humor may be an oxymoron (in the same way the phrase "Dutch humor" strikes us Americans as hilarious).

You'd think with its relatively flat terrain, Belgium would share in the bike culture the Netherlands is so famous for. Yet I saw very few cyclists in Brussels and even fewer bike lanes. Actually, the lack of bike lanes probably explains the dearth of cyclists. Brussels is a much bigger city than Amsterdam, so I suppose more people use public transportation to get around. And cars. The traffic was terrible.

Aside from the trivial differences between Brussels and Amsterdam, there is one glaring difference: the homeless problem. In Brussels, there were not just homeless men with sad-looking dogs on many corners, but also families with small children. Heartbreaking. I’m not sure if they were refugees, but I suspect they were. We just don’t see that in Amsterdam. So what is Brussels doing wrong, and why don’t they reach out to their neighbors in the Netherlands for help in addressing the problem? When I feel cranky and complain about some of the annoying habits of the Dutch, I need to remind myself they do take care of people who have nothing. It is rare to see someone here who is clearly homeless, although this article explains that there were 74% more homeless people in the Netherlands in 2016 than in 2010. If that statistic is accurate, then the problem must have been non-existent earlier. So it’s all the more noticeable when we travel - especially in the U.S., but also in Paris and London, and other European cities - that more and more people are living on the streets. They must be doing something right in the Netherlands.

In the end, the decisions we all make about where to go and what to eat aren't even always our own choices. So much of what we "choose" these days is influenced by the endless Instagram posts we see, or the FB and Trip Advisor ones for those of us of a certain age. There are two sides constantly at war within us: the need to experience those good things in life everyone covets, and the desire to forge out on our own and find those things ourselves. I'll admit I'm a bit too swayed by the waves of popular trends. For example, I had to go check out The Avocado Show, that darling of the millennial/Instagram crowd, an Amsterdam restaurant whose trendy menu consists of only avocado dishes. I didn't love it and won't go back anytime soon. Some people decide to consciously go in the opposite direction of the "in crowd", avoiding that ramen place everyone is raving about just because it's that place.

Speaking of millennial heaven: if you do go to Brussels, check out Peck 47 for brunch. Everything tastes better in a Mason Jar, doesn't it? And what is more hip than a poached egg? This one was served on a savory waffle. I think you don't dare visit… — Speaking of millennial heaven: if you do go to Brussels, check out *Peck 47* for brunch. Everything tastes better in a Mason Jar, doesn't it? And what is more hip than a poached egg? This one was served on a savory waffle. I think you don't dare visit Brussels without having at least one waffle. You can get to this terrific little restaurant at the early-bird opening time like we did and avoid the long line that forms later on.

Those avoiders are the same folks who swear they won't see Hamilton. I have to admit when I read about the crazy prices people were paying, I said to myself, "I'm not going to play that game." Then my friends Seanette and Richard, who moved to London, scored some tickets to the show, which opened there in January. Instantly, my resolve to stay out of the whirlpool that is Hamilton all went down the drain. For those who have seen the show, or just love the music, I was not throwing away my shot. Can it possibly be as good as they say? I'll let you know. Future blog post? Back in 2001, the Producers became the first Broadway ticket to top $100. Those were the days, my friend. Peter and I wondered if that show could possibly live up to all the hype, but we treated ourselves to tickets, and are so happy we did. And now we're hoping for the same happy ending after we see Hamilton. The buzz surrounding The Producers would be drowned out by Hamilton's deafening roar.

I can really relate to this lyric: "You know I'm just like my country: I'm young, scrappy, and hungry, and I'm not throwing away my shot." O.K., I'm not young. But I think I'm usually scrappy. And often hungry.

Who remembers this slightly less famous cultural offering, the movie Mahogany? My friend Sabrina and I chose to see it instead of some highbrow film her parents were going to see. Oh, the choices a pair of fifteen-year-olds can make. "Do you know where you're going to? Do you like the things that life is showing you?" I don't regret that choice one bit, although it does make me smile when I think about it. And nowadays, I don't always know where I am going, but I certainly do like the things that life is showing me.

I'll leave you with one of the great songs about choices, from one of my favorite T.V. shows back in the day (the late 60's): Greenacres. Nowadays, I think they would have chosen that pent-house view. Even when I was a kid, I was bothered by the notion that the husband got to make the choice. "You are my wife" and then the immediate response: "Goodbye, city life." That just wouldn't fly these days. Ideally they would choose the green acres and the city-life. Those folks were rich enough to afford both.

Expats are known for their lists of want-to-see places, the buzzier the better. Those lists seem to grow longer the longer we stay and the more traveling we do. Peter, by the way, refuses to call these lists "bucket lists". Those are lists for people who are going to soon "kick the bucket", he points out, although this article suggests the original meaning has now evolved- maybe by constant misuse? - to mean the list-of-stuff-you-want-to-do-in-your-lifetime, no matter what your age. For expats, the time frame and scope has shrunken to: the-other-places-you-want-to-visit-while-you-live-abroad. The Bucket List just might just be the subject of a future research project for Peter.

However, before I contemplate the bucket issue, I'm still figuring out what factors lead to the coronation of a queen bee, and what leads another spot to be designated the lonely has-been. Stay tuned for Peter's insightful treatise on the subject. Until then, I say "Take tips from people you trust, but also see for yourself what is out there in the world." We have friends with stronger geographical opinions than mine, who write off places they have been. They usually trot out their anti-recommendations after you have already expressed interest in going: "We didn't like Stockholm... or Berlin." etc. To borrow a sentiment - albeit on a different, racier topic - from Woody Allen's film Manhattan, Peter and I haven't ever had the wrong kind of travel. "The worst one was right on the money." Sometimes you have to seek out your own buzz and give the Brusselses of the world a chance.

This title, and the author's name for that matter, are already taken, so he'll have to come up with something a bit different. We'll keep you posted.

"I don't want to bore you with my troubles, but there's something 'bout your love that makes me weak and knocks me off my feet." Doesn't get much better than that. I don't want to bore you with my blogs either, but thanks for reading.