One of the awesome things about living in London is that you can just “pop over” to another country for a weekend. And not even like a Friday to Monday type of thing. Last weekend, three of my favourite girls and I jumped on the Eurostar bright and early Saturday morning, ate our way through Brussels and Brugge and arrived back home in London by 10pm Sunday night. A tight little (weekend) package, and I’m definitely not talking about my butt.