In Search of Pink Elephants

The cobblestones are wet and a bit slick as I walk across La Grand-Place. It has been raining off and on for most of the day and even though the sun is now out, it is chilly. And damp. The air holds the damp and cups your face in its hands, keeping you chilled. Wind rushes down certain streets with enough bite to remind you that, contrary to what the daffodils are selling, winter is not quite finished. And in multiple taverns and tea rooms…