Zeebrugge

Floating serenely above Bruges in a private hot air balloon is the closest you'll ever come to being Willy Wonka-minus the creepy factory and disturbing Oompa Loompas. In a city straight from a postcard, where cobbled streets weave fairy tale charm around medieval spires, gently ascending over Bruges at dawn is surreal enough that even Hieronymus Bosch would toss in his brushes in envy. The morning air is crisp, the canals reflecting like ribbons of silvery candy wrapper beneath you, while you hover-gravity be damned-clutching your champagne flute and hoping stubborn Flemish winds won't suddenly deposit you in a disgruntled farmer's potato field. Assemble at the crack of dawn (believe me, this whimsical torture is worth it), and book at least a couple of weeks ahead. Budget generously-all that ballooning charm doesn't come cheap-expecting to part with upwards of €400 per person, and fumble into that wicker basket with layers of clothing, a scarf (to channel your inner Jules Verne), and nerves of steel disguised as casual indifference. Is it a splurge? Undeniably. But there's something deliciously absurd yet magical about bobbing quietly over medieval rooftops and patchwork fields, quietly mocking the earthbound folks below who never dared to drift skyward. Even if altitude-induced contemplation isn't your speed, at least you'll return with a story that renders dinner-party conversations forever inferior, and bragging rights that will make your friends secretly loathe you.

If you've ever wanted proof that this little country famous for surrealist painters, indulgently rich waffles, and a baffling passion for comic book heroes knows how to throw a party, you'll find it front and center at Belgium's National Day celebrations in Brussels. Held every July 21st, the city erupts into a delightfully quirky spectacle complete with military parades, brass marching bands, and locals proudly sporting outfits that manage to be charming, patriotic, and distinctly Belgian all at once (expect at least one mustachioed gentleman enthusiastically waving a Tintin-emblazoned flag). For full immersion, show up early enough-around mid-morning-to snag a good vantage point near Parc de Bruxelles, and pack sunscreen, sturdy shoes, and an adventurous palate ready for epic street fries drowning in mayonnaise, crisp cold beers, and waffles piled as shamelessly high as your dignity allows. Budget around €20-€40 for spontaneous snack cravings, and definitely stay long enough for the fireworks exploding over the Royal Palace after dark. Sure, you might endure a few elbows from the notoriously stoic locals suddenly gripped by fleeting bursts of national fervor-but trust me, standing beneath the surreal Brussels skyline as the night erupts into dazzling color is worth any mild jostling. At the very least, you'll walk away with a story involving a parade float shaped like a giant Smurf-and that's priceless.