Today in Brussels, another day unfolded, starting with the city’s familiar chill as we awoke in our cozy apartment. Rain tapped gently on the window, providing a soothing backdrop to our morning. Beside me, my husband stirred, and I cherished the warmth of our shared moments.
The scent of freshly brewed coffee wafted through the room, and as always, we took our time savoring it, just like we did in Buenos Aires and in Colombia. It’s a simple daily ritual that links our past and present.
Today, we veered away from the usual tourist spots in pursuit of the vibrant Brussels scene. We had heard about a party called “Cave” and were eager to immerse ourselves in its pulsating energy.

As we strolled through the city, we passed by the iconic Grand Place. Its magnificent architecture stood in stark contrast to our plans for the night. That’s when the idea struck us: why not dance in the heart of this historic square to the rhythm of Shakira’s “El Jefe,” a song so distinctly Mexican? Our playful dance amidst European elegance drew curious glances from passersby.
Night fell, and we arrived at the Cave party, where both the temperature and the energy soared, both inside and outside our bodies. Layers of clothing disappeared, and we found ourselves in nothing but short shorts, feeling the music pulsate through us. Surrounded by alluring and carefree bodies, we merged with the dance floor.
While we danced together, my husband and I remained connected, but we were also open to playful, flirtatious interactions with others who would soon become our friends. Among them was a captivating couple who had been eyeing us from the start. Our gazes met, and soon they approached us, dancing.

He engaged me in conversation while my husband conversed with his partner. As the night progressed, the four of us gradually drew closer on the dance floor. His hand brushed against my chest, and my husband, with a mischievous glint in his eye, leaned in to kiss his partner. It was an electrifying moment of anticipation.
When the moment finally arrived, my husband and I shared a three-way kiss, our lips meeting in a playful dance of desire, while the other guy excused himself to fetch some drinks. That night, the four of us danced together, our bodies moving to the seductive beat of the music.
It was exhilarating and immensely fun, but what I treasured most was that it was exactly that: a playful dance of a ceremonial nature, a game of desire and attraction on the dance floor.
As I recount this unconventional day, I’m reminded that Brussels is a city of contrasts, where history and contemporary life coexist in unexpected harmony. It’s a place where adventures are written in the stars, and each moment carries the promise of something extraordinary.