Bruges, baby, Bruges...

What better way to start a blog post about Bruges, Brussels and Belgium than a Cookie Monster-style musical homage to the letter B?

"B is for Brussels, and a statue going pee,
B is Bruges, too many beers to drink.
B is for Belgium, and chocolate - oops, that starts with C..."


Not especially brilliant, but it does a pretty good job summing about an amazing city.

I took a chance when I made plans to visit, way back in October. The prospect of just jumping on a train at King's Cross/St. Pancras in London, and 2.5 hours later, stepping off in Belgium just sounded perfect. To be fair, I had hoped against the odds that I would have lucked out with some sun, but was more than happy to end up with mostly overcast skies. Heavy rain would have been a bummer, AND encouraged me to stay inside drinking more beer.

My first night was pretty relaxed... the continuing investigation of a train accident a few weeks back meant the fast Eurostar service was a bit slower, but I rolled into Bruges about 9:00. Dropped my stuff off and it was time to go exploring, when I ended up at a cool little bistro – some hearty Belgian meat and gravy, plus some raspberry lambic beers, and it was a slow stroll back to the hostel. I stopped and took a moment to admire the main market square at night:


The next day, I popped up ready to explore. The weather wasn’t quite the bright sunny day I had hoped for – but living in the UK has taught me to appreciate any non-rainy day, so grey clouds or no, I headed out.

First stop was the market square – miraculously free of tourists, who were all no doubt shaking off the previous night’s beers.

Then, it was pastries and a cappuccino at a posh classical café, and refueled, I hit the streets where I immediately came across the first of many, many bike racks (the Belgians do love their cycles!):


…and a store that would have made my urban chicken-raising friends, Dave and Drea, feel right at home.



Bruges is often called the Venice of the North, and is chock full of charming canals and winding lanes.



And, given its proximity to the North Sea’s winds, it also has its share of old windmills – taken advantage of all that free effort:



Once I started back in town, it was all back alleys to the tourist square, where I was very disheartened to see that in the land of some of the world’s finest beers… there’s a Budweiser sign.



I refueled with a truly huge cup (bucket!) of hot chocolate – made by adding your own dark chocolate to melt in the boiling milk – then wandered around...



...before heading to explore the Beguinage. Fascinating place, and a perfectly still oasis in the city, it has been the home of an order of nuns since 1245 – basically a refuge where the single women whose husbands had died in the constant fighting during the Middle Ages could find comfort and a safe place to live. The nice bonus was seeing a family of black/white cats who call this their home, matching perfectly the black/white houses.



My last evening wasn’t too crazy – I started off with some original Belgian fries and peppersauce, then checked out the 't Brugs Beertje – a bar with literally 300 Belgian beers. Awesome. Simply awesome.



I kept walking, including a discovered ancient church in the basement of the Crowne Plaza, and then ended up at a super cool bar playing the best of American blues. Packed place, but I made a friend when I gave an older lady and her husband my table. Then, it was another walk along the river and windmills, this time by a full moon:


… before a late lasagna dinner at a local guesthouse and then off to bed.

Sunday was a much more unlucky day rain-wise – I ended up wandering around Brussels blessing my super-strength REI umbrella, as it stood up to even the fiercest gusts.

Brussels gets a bad rap – often called dull or grey by the casual visitor. To be fair, it’s not a must-see, but I had a great time wandering around the main market square, and then over to the covered shopping arcades.





As part of the surprise, Bruges tends to hide its charms – and you have to go exploring to find them. Whether it’s the famous Mannekenpis statue, or some funny urban art, you’re never sure exactly what you’ll see next:





Finally though – I had to call it a day… after some seriously tasty pizza, I was walking back up a veritable wind funnel when finally, my indomitable umbrella – veteran of multiple London winters - gave up the ghost and collapsed, showering me with water.

“Funk this,” I thought, and immediately headed for the train station for a quick train back to London. Great weekend though – beer, chocolate and lots of sights – can’t wait to go back!

Cheers,
Mike