He lumbered down the narrow staircase. Breath heavy, legs aching. His broad flanks brushed either side of the narrow, twisting spiral staircase. This was not why he had come to Belgium.
Finally, he reached the bottom of the Belfort. Dolores and Brad were waiting patiently.
‘Okay,’ he managed a cheerful smile, wiping the sweat from his brow. ‘Lunchtime?’ he asked in hope.
The Grote Markt – horses and carts transporting tourists round the old town, along the edge of the square rows of cafes, beer halls and chocolate shops, all with striped awnings of green and red.
A pint of local bière and a steak. Perfect. He recovered somewhat as he waited for the food to arrive. This was more like it. He tucked his napkin in, held his cutlery ready. The garçon approached with his dish.
‘What the hell is this?’ he shouted. The pink, raw mince patty stared at him, mocking him.
Linking up with the prompt at What Pegman Saw. The task is to write a story in 150 words or less based on the destination that Pegman is visiting. This week’s destination is Bruges, Belgium, a wonderful city of canals and narrow, cobbled streets that I was lucky enough to visit for one day as part of a holiday around the country. I remember the market square, beer, rather large Americans struggling up narrow staircases, a Tintin shop and a hamburger served raw with some cress on top!