Sometimes rain ruins a moment. Sometimes, it creates one. That was certainly true for me in Brugge.
For years, friends have been telling me I must visit this picturesque Belgian town, maybe because they know how much I adore Venice, another exquisite, romantic canal city. Maybe it's because they know how much I like to shop and would relish the lace boutiques. Either way, there we were, my partner Patrick Twiss and I, ready to explore the historic capital of the Flemish region and, oh no! A downpour, with rain and more rain in the forecast. But we had just a day-and-a-half to explore the city's windmills and chocolate and beer and churches and lace, so off we headed, umbrella working overtime, into the city center.
Then came the moment. Soaked and hungry, we spotted an ordinary cafe on the main square. A group of tourists was seated outside under an awning looking quite happy. We rushed over, sat down next to them and asked what they were eating.
"Tomato soup," said one.
"What else is good?" we asked.
"They only serve tomato soup," he said.
Well, then, it was settled. We'd have tomato soup.
Here's the crazy thing: We had already been to Paris and were heading to Amsterdam. But when we look back on our favorite meal of the trip, this divine bowl of hot, creamy tomato soup -- enjoyed under a covered patio with a group of friendly tourists from England, all of us listening to rain pelting the awning -- was it.