Longing for holidays

Knowing my bank balance is on the rouge side of satisfactory and sensing the yawning future without promise of distant lands and heat, I find myself hearking back to scrumptious antipasta served by a fabulously joyous Italian family in a backstreet in Brussels. I was able to test my rudimentary grasp of the language and my wholehearted grasp of the cuisine.

All accomplished while basking in the glow of two handbags and a cardigan found in a backstreet Oxfam for 2Euro each.

Heaven on a tightly budgeted stick.