I was looking for the owner of this bike. Filling time, I rode down the street and came back and the bike had disappeared – hopefully with the owner. Lost that chance. But I still like the photo and the tourist obsession with Belgian frites. This is my regular stop after a late shift. A cone of frites from a place that does a delicious double cook on their spuds. And you can see it is a huge tourist location. Late night, I mean late night, there is no more than a handful of people looking for service. That suits me. There are a dozen locations across Brussels that swear they give the best frites in the city. Truth is, there are a dozen places that do a great job. So, choose your quartier and enjoy. My only requirement is that it be provided in a cone. I really cannot stand the square trays some places offer. There is something correct about the wrapped chips in a cone and reaching into the constantly narrowing bottom. It reminds me of British fries and getting a portion from the local fish ‘n chips. In my youth, sometimes they were literally wrapped in newspaper. You got inky chips. Was superb. Every cone of frites reminds me of that.