Horse of another color

The night after our drinking (which actually started before we got to the bear bar), our "bed & breakfast" (I add the quotes because it turned out to be this dude's apartment who said 'help yourself' to food for breakfast—yet there wasn't really much)'s breakfast was a bit...insufficient for me in my, hrm, hung-over state.

Xavier and I agreed to go out for a larger breakfast. Not easy to do on the continent, but after we just before we found the comic book shop, we found Brixton, a charming and empty cafe owned by this fun English boy cook. They  were serving full English breakfast, and I said, "this is what I need," and Xavier said, "I want to try!" So yummy. some other people came in after us—Belgians—and were all, "I don't know if I can eat all that food, it's so heavy!" to which the owner replied, "it's the best thing for a hang-over, mate!"

We continued on the comic book shop, and then got lost/found our way back to the town center, and eventually to the cafe we spied in the gayborhood the night before. It was packed, as it was tea time. Among the patrons were this couple—she sounded French/Belgian, and he sounded English. They were fairly bored with each other, or simply bored. He scowled lost in thought while she mindlessly played with her lip, while the couple they were with ordered for the group.