I decided to leave Christmas Eve to Bruges

We arrived in Bruges on a cold rainy night. It wasn't too late, but there were unusually few pedestrians on the street. At that time, I thought it might be because the weather was too cold and everyone was warming up at home. Now when I think about it, actually, they were in the bars hidden in the corners and alleys, being filled with beer. The location of the guest house was very awkward, beyond the physical strength of dragging a suitcase in the rain, and not enough to reach the starting price of a taxi. Thanks to the help of a grumpy but kind-hearted uncle, we got a taxi. Finally, at a corner that was perfect for a rainy night murder, we knocked on the door of the guest house. After seeing the landlady's brilliant smile and her handsome son who had just taken a shower, with wet blond hair, rosy complexion, and still steaming, our original worries completely disappeared. In fact, Belgium was only the second stop in a month-long trip, and we should have been at our most energetic, but at that time we were all tired and worried. Fortunately, Bruges is not like Iceland, which requires a lot of energy and physical strength to prevent and solve various emergencies; nor is it like the Netherlands, where the city is not big or small, and it is impossible to ride a bicycle in the cold rainy weather, most of the time we have to rely on our feet to visit various museums. The three main cities in Belgium are actually small towns built around a large square or a bell tower or a church. There are only a few bustling streets, and you can stroll around leisurely in less than an hour. If you choose to walk in quiet places, it is not tiring at all. So in those days, everyone became particularly lazy, sleeping until they woke up naturally, going out without a guide, and too lazy to look at the navigation. If they wanted to turn left, they turned left. If they saw a nice window, they walked into the store to look around. If they were tired, they just chose a road to go home. They went to the Christmas market in the main square to pick gloves and hats, and when it got dark, they hid in the medieval buildings and were happy... Just like the locals. I also watched 'In Bruges' in Bruges, 'Those canals, stone bridges, stone streets, churches, they are all things in fairy tales, how can anyone not like them? Yes, and swans.' The story takes place in such a fairyland full of innocence, foggy, and wrapped in Christmas warmth, which makes me feel that the chase between killers has become a game for children, and there is actually no hatred between each other, just stubbornly following all the rules and agreements of this game. After the movie, these three middle-aged men will still hook their shoulders, pass cigarettes to each other, and drink a large glass of beer in a bar by the canal. However, I did not meet dwarfs, prostitutes in Bruges, nor could I recognize killers without guns; the romance of love at first sight, the romance of life and death, and the romance of mutual understanding between killers are all in the movie. In short, Merry Christmas.