Waffles, Wine, and the Wonder of Wandering: Ananya’s Romantic Trip to Belgium with Thrillophilia
"In my years of travel, I’ve learned that the best adventures are slow—wandering new streets with a waffle in one hand and your partner’s in the other, discovering hidden corners, enjoying sunsets, and tasting meals that tell a story."
This Christmas, I decided it was time for something different. No tree decorations, no chicken roasting, no reruns of our favourite holiday movies. Instead, it was time to pack our bags and celebrate Christmas somewhere new, somewhere magical. Belgium—a land of mouthwatering waffles, world-class beer, and a promise of hidden gems—seemed to call out to us.
Before diving into this adventure, there was one important call to make: to Jatin at Thrillophilia. Over the years, Jatin has become our travel confidant. He knows exactly what we love—hidden spots, local experiences, and a touch of whimsy. We have his number on the speed dial (just kidding). And as soon as he picked up, he teased us, “Robinsons on the go again?”
So, it’s our little tradition—start with the touristy must-visits and then delve into the underrated corners. Jatin knew our style and had just the right plan to make Belgium memorable.
After planning everything, we packed our bags, held each other’s hands and went on our newest adventure. And oh god, from the moment we arrived in Bruges, Belgium unfolded like a dream. It wasn’t the loud, in-your-face kind of beauty; it was softer, quieter, inviting you to lean in and pay attention. As the city greeted us with cobblestone streets and fairy-tale canals, we found ourselves instinctively slowing down.
With an authentic Belgium itinerary at hand, we let the city guide us. One turn led to another, and suddenly, we were standing outside a small chocolatier tucked away from the bustling squares. Inside, the air was rich with the scent of cocoa, and Luc, the chocolatier, welcomed us with an infectious warmth.
Between bites of pralines, he shared his stories—his life’s work, his failed attempts at “beer chocolate,” and his pride in crafting flavours that linger long after the chocolate melts.
With Luc’s truffles in hand, we strolled to a quiet bench overlooking the canal. The sky turned amber, then lavender, as the sun dipped below the horizon. Sharing those chocolates while the world seemed to pause was a moment so simple yet so deep.
It felt as though the universe was reminding us to savour not just the chocolate but the fleeting beauty of the present.
But the next morning, we traded cobblestones for the countryside, renting bicycles to explore the outskirts. With the wind in our hair, we pedalled through fields, past windmills, and into a tiny village called Damme. If Bruges was a fairy tale, Damme was its secret chapter—quiet, untouched, and brimming with charm.
We found ourselves drawn to a small café with a crooked wooden sign that read “Tapertje Bistro.” The cafe’s host herself greeted us like old friends, serving steaming mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of speculoos cookies. She talked about Damme’s history with a sparkle in her eyes, her stories flowing as effortlessly as the coffee she poured. It felt as though we’d stumbled into a home away from home.
As we continued our journey, Ghent offered a different kind of magic. Its medieval buildings loomed grandly over the canals, yet it was the quieter spots that truly captured our hearts. One hidden alley led us to a vibrant street filled with murals.
Following the art, we stumbled upon a tiny bar where the bartender introduced us to Kriek, a cherry-infused beer that balanced sweetness and tartness perfectly. My husband, ever the beer aficionado, declared it his new favourite.
But the real highlight was a visit to the old beguinage. This tranquil complex of whitewashed houses seemed untouched by time, offering an oasis of peace amidst the city’s hum. Walking hand in hand, we revelled in the silence, the world shrinking down to just the two of us.
Finally, Christmas Eve brought us to Brussels, where the Grand Place shimmered with festive lights. The square, alive with carols and laughter, felt like the heart of the season itself. We grabbed cups of mulled wine and wandered until we found Mont des Arts. Sitting there, overlooking a city that sparkled like it was wrapped in tinsel, we let the year’s weight slip away.
“This,” my husband whispered, “is what Christmas should always feel like.” I couldn’t agree more.
On our last morning, we found a quiet spot in Antwerp. With a waffle in hand and the soft hum of the city in the background, we reflected on our trip. Belgium wasn’t loud or flashy—it was intimate, like a whispered secret. From the hidden spots of Bruges to the lively streets of Ghent and the festive magic of Brussels, every moment felt like it was crafted just for us.
Thrillophilia and Jatin had nailed it once again. This was an experience, a chapter in our lives we’d revisit time and time again. As we boarded our flight home, we carried more than souvenirs—we carried stories, laughter, and a newfound appreciation for the beauty of the underrated.
Would we recommend Belgium? A thousand times yes. But only if you promise to wander without a plan, savour every bite, and let the charm of this little country sweep you off your feet—just like it did with us.
Read more: Thrillophilia Belgium Reviews