It was a relatively short two-week trip back in the US this time. I'm now on a bus headed to the San Francisco airport to catch a flight to Brussels, Belgium. This will be my second time to Belgium, technically. But the first time didn't really count. That was on my first trip to Europe when I was 18. At the end of my trip my backpack was stolen while sleeping on a bridge over the Seine river in Paris. Luckily I was left with my day pack which had in it my passport, flight ticket (which was crucial since this was before the internet, so flight tickets were almost like cash), the little bit of money I had left, my camera and a few other essentials.
