Belgium...petit paye, petit esprit I used to say but it grows on me every time I return. My mothers side of the family are here where we spent our childhood summers on the shores of Les Plages du Nord. One of my clearest memories was my mother elegantly poised on the sand patiently making crepe flowers for us to sell to others for seashells. Our sand stall always drew gasps and Maman could never work fast enough for the demand.

This weekend unravels with food- if there is one thing the Belgians do well it's the  richest, most delicious food one could dream of- carpaccio with fresh truffle and fois gras, croquettes au crevettes, melt in your mouth scallops and not forgetting the potent smell of thick, warm waffles lining the beach-top. Luckily I cant be belgian through and through as I hate beer so that is one less thing to add to the list of calories- this weekend is all about pleasure, not denial!

And in between those glutinous moments there is a round of mini golf, several bicycle rides and a quick tennis rally as of course I didn't think to bring trainers so bare-footed tennis is more about the giggles than the match-point! All this followed by some mad peddling of a kwistax or two - see pic as too hard to describe these to non "Zoutians"  (Le Zoute is where I am), a photography exhibition providing shelter from the rain before popping into the local casino (as you do) for a Baileys one ice and a round of Black Jack and Roulette magically multiplying €25 into €180 - Maroussia, my cousin, had the good sense to pry me from the table at that point...but this random stop in is definitely going to be a new seaside tradition!