injury can look like the Belgians, living in a country very long brewing tradition that visitors of fortune and weekend opt for the use of foreign production wines, but the truth is that without any offense to the natives and partially circumvented exhortation which recommends that "When in Rome, do as the Romans "(I say" partly "because I do what I saw, if it is true that I did with what others did), I decided to visit a Irish Pub, located at number 8 of Burg (Bruges Town Hall Square), and endorsed a pint of Guinness in a distinctly British: polished wood, fire and football English League ... or Irish, I do not know. The building, in keeping with the architecture and aesthetics typically Flemish, sits in a corner of the square, and also the Irish flag flying from miles away on the island, its facade adorned with plates in which the names appear the pride of his lyrics: Joyce, Yeats, Wilde ... and of course, being Irish and therefore Catholic, could not miss on the door, gathered in a small niche, the Marian advocation guardianship their dens.
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