Last weekend I met up with two old school friends in the party capital of Europe, uhm, Brussels. While it may have a reputation for bureaucracy and dreary boringness, Brussels does actually have a great night-life, so soon after arriving we went out to hit the pubs and bars of the capital of the EU. Woo!
After sampling some (by “some”, I mean “quite a lot of”) cherry wine in a bar that used to be brothel, we headed off to Les Halles Saint-Gery and the famous club night “Stop Suffering and Start Dancing” which was being held in large, sweaty, crowded, smoky nightclub. As always when clubbing I had the issue of what to do with my insulin while I partied like it was 1999.
As I’ve mentioned before I carry all my diabetic kit around in one of a ;