Bruges: Photos and Lace

Ever seen a beautiful person, maybe sucked up the courage to say ‘Hi’, maybe even got to go on a date with them only to find out there’s nothing there beyond what you see? Welcome to Bruges. Every city has at its core its working populace, the collective heart beating behind the walls creating, producing and maintaining. Perhaps the city’s raison d’etre is a port, or financial center, or widget manufacturing, or seat of government but without something to give it a reason to live it dies. Bruges is a propped up corpse attracting tourists like flies. Now don’t get me wrong, it’s a good looking corpse with buffed up buildings but it feels more like a movie set with false fronts. There is absolutely nothing going on here except tourism and it’s going great. If February with its inclement weather is the slow season, I’d hate to be here in the summer. Every tour boat was maxed out, every restaurant required a reservation and getting a pic of anything without the Jacksons from Idaho or the Gregory’s from Wales in your frame was impossible. And it’s beautiful.

The pictures speak for themselves, it’s no wonder there are so many people wanting to visit. It’s personality is a professional model posing for your pics and I took plenty with so many looking like postcards I had a heck of a time deciding which to post here. As with the Amsterdam pix, I’ll (soon) get around to posting the lot on Flickr.

And as with Amsterdam, the accommodation was my favourite part of our stay. We were in a centuries old home that has been refurbished as a B&B and we had the top floor with a loft for Luka. The owners told us the home had been in the family since 1900 and they did an outstanding job in arranging it for guests. It was, like the city, almost too pretty. Impressive art works and silver serving dishes made it feel like a five star hotel and made me wish we were staying for more than one night.

Our meanderings along the canals and old streets was an education into what the Belgians feel they are best at; lace, beer, chocolate and mussels. I think mussels must be there national food or something cuz they were everywhere. You can get them at a takeout with french fries or as I had them in a saffron/coconut broth with a Leffe blond. While the rest of the world thinks of Stella when they think Belgian beer, the Belgians don’t drink it. It’s not on offer anywhere but Hoegarden, Leffe and a few hundred others are everywhere.

There’s a chocolatier on every street offering everything in chocolate. If you want it in chocolate, be it a statue, a sucker or a pop-in-your-mouth, Belgium, and in particular Bruges, is the place to get it. The lace thing was a surprise but it must be a chick thing. Deb said “Oh yeah, my friend told me if I was ever in Bruges I should buy some lace” and again it comes in umbrellas to tea cozies. Go figger.

So that was Bruges, eye candy and not much more. We boarded a train to Brussels, switched to a train to the Amsterdam airport and as we arrived with time to spare and empty bellies had an opportunity to try Dutch cuisine. For Luka that means McDonald’s, for Mom and Dad it was croquettes (cheese and meat wrapped in pastry and deep-fried). They say Dutch cuisine is an oxymoron; they’re not far wrong but I’ve had worse. Ever tried faggots and mushy peas?