
Yesterday we had some very unexpected drama during a day out in Bruges, Belgium. Evan went missing for about 45 minutes. We were all out walking to lunch and one minute he was right with us and the next... he was gone. We backtracked to the most obvious place we thought we lost him, by a few carnival-type rides set up in the square, but no sign of the little guy.
Michael and I then split up, with Michael sprinting up and down the streets and Julianna and I staying close to the spot where we had last seen him. A man running a small sausage stand suggested I go to the police. Thoughts running through my head at this point were along the lines if...What? The police? Surely he has to be right around here. We didn't actually lose our 7 year old on the streets of a foreign city where the main language is Flemish! Julianna also has the tendency of becoming worst-case-scenario girl in these situations and this was not entirely helpful. She listed for me all the possibilities...kidnaped, stolen, never to be seen again. Ok, but he knows my mobile number, right? Surely some savvy traveler knows the country code for the UK and can call me! Why is my phone not ringing! The minutes drag on with Michael running back to the hotel to alert them of our situation and Julianna and I trying to find the police station. We knew Evan had a hotel umbrella with him and maybe someone would call the hotel. Julianna and I walked in a big circle, no police station. We were back at the sausage stand and the guys had not seen any signs of Evan. Just then a police car drove by and the guys flagged them down. The police wanted his photo...ugh, this is not happening, this is not happening...I'm flipping through my iPhone and nothing looks like a good enough face shot. I show them a silly photo Julianna recently took of Evan turned to the side and they look. Then they tell us to get in the car. Ok, darn it. I should have a better photo then this one! Just then Michael calls and tells me Evan has been found! He is at a chocolate shop and he rattles off the address. I quickly tell the police and they say, "yes, we know, we are taking you there now!". WHAT? You are and you didn't tell me! I was too relieved to be too upset. We drive for what seemed like forever. How could Evan be so far away from where we last saw him? The police explained they were dealing with one way streets, but this was unusually far. We finally arrive and there he is. Shaken up, but eating a chocolate lolly pop. I was crying, Evan was crying, Julianna was crying, the lady who owned the chocolate shop even had tears in her eyes (she told me later she has a 6 year old son). Michael practically sprints there from the center of town. When we pieced together what had happened, we figured out that right before the restaurant Evan had gone down a street without us (photo of street above). He soon realised we were gone, but kept walking on, thinking we were ahead of him. He had walked for nearly 20 minutes before entering the chocolate shop and asking for help.
So the longest 45 minutes of all of our lives comes to a happy ending! We all finally went to lunch and the rest of the day was not nearly as exciting. Will share some additional photos from Bruges soon!
Sent from my iPhone