By a Hoptraveler Who Ate and Drank His Way Through Both (It Was a Tough Job)
Let me paint you a picture. I’m standing in Amsterdam’s Jordaan district, canal light dancing on 17th-century gables, a herring dangling from my fingers like a Dutch flag. Three days later, I’m in Brussels’ Grand Place, surrounded by gold-leaf guildhouses, a cone of frites in one hand and a waffle dripping with chocolate in the other. And somewhere between the two cities, I lost the ability to feel my arteries.
This is the dilemma, friends. Amsterdam or Brussels? The Netherlands or Belgium? Canals or comics? Rijksmuseum or Magritte Museum? It’s a classic travel conundrum, and after exhaustive research (by which I mean I ate everything in sight), I’m here to help you decide.
Spoiler alert: there is no wrong answer. But there is a right answer for you. Let’s find it.