You find yourself in a hotel room, in the middle of the Alps. It’s cold. You’ve driven for hours, armed with a weathered optics ad and a few insider tips, and somehow found your way to the Holy Grail. In the local bar, you met a mysterious guy, who slid you a note with a few telephone numbers on it. All that’s left to do now is add them to the eyewear archives and the map on the back seat. Tomorrow is another day, another hunt. That’s just what we call
25 litres of juice drunk, 238 drawers opened, 160 pairs brought back. Discover the full story of our hottest Belgian summer day.