InnerTeub

It may have been wet, cold, expensive and full of drunk Germans but if you do nothing else before you shuffle off this mortal coil then you must visit Spa – and just don’t forget to try the frites and mayonnaise..

And we’re off!! Belgium was nice enough to host the Belgium Grand Prix in Spa-Francorchamps on my husband’s 40th birthday weekend, and while the planning of this trip led me down a dark, dark rabbit hole of Formula 1 message boards and forums (and I’ve got to tell you I never thought I’d be the type of person to go back and forth on the exact right place to stand on a track to fully appreciate the acceleration out of a turn [and yes I totally used the phrase “corner like it’s on rails” at one point in these discussions but I don’t think the drunk Germans got the reference], but: here I am. I am that person) I am so stupidly excited to see my husband experience his favorite sport live for the first time.

So! I’ve got my earplugs, a euro-trashy shirt collection, and a healthy respect for drunk Germans — it’s going to be awesome.

See you all on the flip side.

(To all potential thieves — don’t rob my house while we’re gone — it’s got a cranky German Shepherd guard dog and  badass house sitter, so let’s just let it be the house that got away, ok?)