Brugge

Day One in Brugge

It rained all night, of course, we were in town. It was still hosing down in the morning but we decided that we had exploring to do, so donned our raincoats, and Di and Hilary equipped themselves with waterproof boots and umbrellas. We set off looking for the bus which was supposed to be 5 minutes’ walk down the road. At some stage we took a wrong turning (of course), and subsequently couldn’t find the Number 11 bus (and the lady at a garage gave us the wrong directions which didn’t help.) We walked into Brugge, 30 minutes in the pouring rain with poor Hilary complaining the whole time. She isn’t a big complainer, always a wee bit of a “I hate walking” chant when we suggest it, but usually once we get going she is happy and distractible, not this day!!

We stopped at a windmill which is a working flour-mill, the steps up were high and steep, Hilary hates heights, and it wasn’t helped by rain and very strong winds, and a kick in the face from Di’s boots as they ascended the ladder/steps to the top. We had a look around the flour mill, and read the info, very much like Stainsby Mill but run by wind which powers the wheel to drive the grinding stones, rather than water. If we were hoping the rain would stop while we were inside the mill, we were disappointed. The man running it, said in a very dry tone (the only dry thing around I hasten to add) that the rain was there to stay. He was right.

We walked from here to a craft museum which is set up in about 20 rooms of displays each focussing on a different trade, like the cooper, lace-maker, shoe-maker, clog maker, sweet maker, tailor and milliner (though they called it a “hatter”) (is that where “the mad hatter” comes from? I’ve not thought about that before).  There was a sweet making demonstration on that afternoon after 2pm but we were there at 10.30 or so, so it didn’t work for us.  We walked further into Brugge, through the little cobble-stoned streets, we had bought a 3 day Brugge Museum pass, so as there were numerous options to visit, we plotted a strategy to see as many of interest as we could. We walked in to the town centre, looked at the Markt and then had a tour (self) around the Studhuis (town hall). Very impressive room where the council sit, ornate, supposedly no photos (efficious lady on duty, so limited opportunities I must say!!). 

Then we walked through a covered area where we spotted a little homely looking café run by an older couple who were selling a big bowl of soup and bread for €3.50 which Di and I enjoyed (one each) and Hilary had a huge bowl of spaghetti bolognaise for €5. Very tasty and very welcome for wet footed and coldish people. Once we left here we were accosted by a mad Belgian “Irwin” dressed in a uniform from times gone by, with black, long and straggly hair (still don’t know if it was his own, or a wig), who coerced us into buying a poorly made “certificate” of Hilary’s visit to Brugge.

Hilary expressed a desire to visit the archaeological museum so we negotiated our way there next, where she was able to dig in sand to uncover skeletons, dress in period costumes like a Belgian lady, did a big puzzle which showed different levels  underground and what of archaeological interest would be at each level. I started there, but as it wasn’t my thing I planned with Di to alternate Hilary watching time. I headed off to another museum, the Groenge I think, again it didn’t do much for me, history of the city, but pretty dry. From there because I had only been a few minutes in the museum I headed to a huge church next door. Another impressive building with impressive artworks including a sculpture by Michaelangelo of Mother and Child (apparently, I didn’t see it, but Di found it later, I was looking for a painting). I went back to collect the others, staying with Hilary while Di went to look around the church.  It was mid-afternoon by now, we were a bit cold and a cup of tea back at the campsite seemed a very good idea, so we went and caught the number 11 bus (very straight forward) back to just around the corner from the campsite.

We just did domestic duties and relaxed a bit before heading to bed, with the promise of better weather the next day (so Hilary saw on the tv in the post-office) when we were posting cards etc. In the evening a fellow camper came over and gave us a bus ticket with 4 rides still on it that we could use the next day to get into Brugge and back  (Hilary is free on all public transport over here so far).

Brugge Day 2. 15^th July

It dawned sunny, really sunny, with the promise of a gorgeous Friday. We were out of the campsite, truck full of water, toilet empty, and parked up down by the bus stop before 9, headed for Brugge again. The bus dropped us right in town by the Markt, everything was glowing in the sunshine, a completely different town from the day before. We headed first to the Belfry which was on top of a town building with the clock on top. It was 366 steps up, a very narrow spiral stone staircase, twisting first one way, then the other. Thankfully there were three rooms on the way up, (or down), each providing opportunity for breath catching as well as a bit of education. The first room was the treasury which had a number of old council memorabilia, including a couple of chests, in it which used to hold the city’s treaures. The city’s Charter of Rights is held there now. The next room (another 100 steps or so up) was where you could see the clock mechanism. The top room had the bells in it, as well as windows to allow a near 360 degree view of Brugge. While we were up there the carillion was played, then the bells gonged 10am. Talk about loud!!!!!

From here we went to the Hellig Bloed Basilica which holds a phial of “ blood mixed with water, washed from the body of Jesus, by Joseph”. There is a ceremony every day when this phial is brought out and ???? apparently by some miracle it turns solid, and then liquid again??? Not sure of details, I didn’t get into that. While we were there though there were a large number of people taking turns at kissing the phial and saying a personal prayer, Di said there was a large group on a pilgrammage from South Africa to Europe, and this was part of their itinerary (their t-shirts said so.) We hung around for a while, ogling the interior, and the ceremony (very tastefully of course).

From here we commenced a walking itinerary from our DK Europe book around some of the streets of Brugge, and past the canals. Our walk passed the (smelly) fismarket, then down to the canal (brown water) and along past a local market with lots of bric brac and brass things for sale. There were lots of boats full of tourists going past, Hilary became very keen to have a tour in a boat and checked out prices. While I went and bought coffee for Di and me, Hilary and Di fed the ducks and some white swans on the canal, with some very old bread of ours. The birds didn’t seem to mind the mould.  We sipped our strong strong coffees as we wandered, admiring buildings and red geraniums in flower pots overlooking the water, watching mad cyclists on cobbled streets (no helmets), and  horses and carriages trotting by.

We stopped at both a modern art gallery, which had some neat sculptures of cows, dogs, cats, horses and some wild paintings, and a museum which was supposed to have antique lace, but which we couldn’t find. (Hilary sat on the steps reading in the sun).  We continued our walk and noticed a free harp concert was advertised for 1pm. As it was 12 ish we decided to get some lunch and wait for the time to arrive. I headed off and got baguette, ham and salami, which we feasted on in the square outside a medieval hospital (which only closed in 1976). After our picnic we went and enjoyed the harp concert put on by a Belgian guy who spoke at least 4 languages fluently, and played both the classical and Celtic harp beautifully, (his own compositions). The concert lasted35 minutes, and was really an opportunity for him to sell his CDs, but there was no compulsion to buy, so we along with many others (and encouraged by him) just sat, relaxed, and had a respite from the town and Belgian chocolate.

After the concert we gave Hilary the option of either a boat trip on the canal, or an afternoon tea of delights from one of the Belgian bakeries (I tell you there was some pretty delicious looking things in those windows), however she had her mind set on a boat trip. We found our way down to one of the stops, sat amongst the red geraniums, beside the water, waiting our turn in the hot sunshine. We didn’t have to wait long before it was our turn. We were first in and sat down the back.  There was a taped/Cd’d commentary in a number of languages timed to coincide with where we were on the canal, interesting to get a different perspective on the city, a thoroughly enjoyable and relaxing experience.

We went back to the town centre in search of a little shop we had seen earlier in the day, just near the Belfry, which hadn’t been open at that hour, but would be now. It was a lovely little shop, jam packed with mostly Christmas themed wooden figures/scenes, decorations, and a few hand painted pewter decorations. Absolutely gorgeous to look at, and we were very tempted (despite the large prices) to purchase one as a memento. We didn’t (Di would have been happy to), I hope we don’t regret it. They were mostly hand-made originals from Germany (whether they were actually made there or just designed there, I’m not sure), no pictures sorry, very scary ladies in control.

From here we bussed back to the campervan which was still sitting safely on the roadside patiently waiting for our return. We headed straight off back towards Brussels, headed east. We drove until about 5.30 and stopped at Drongen again (the other side of the motorway to where we had stayed on our way to Brugge, an exact mirror image though) and made and ate dinner. We decided to keep driving after dinner as the roads were easy and it was light so continued on past Brussels, and stopped at an aires about 40kms further on. We were all prepared to settle in for the evening/night when a fast (I mean “fast…..”) train went by, rattling us to the core, and then another, and another. I checked out the campervan book we have and found a free site with services about 15kms north east, in the direction we were planning to go anyway to make the drive more scenic instead of just along a very easy to negotiate but not very picturesque motorway, so we headed off there. The directions in the book are very scant, they give GPS co-ordinates which is very convenient (if we had one), but otherwise they give a town or city and a road address, which most large maps don’t have enough detail for. So once we got to Tongeren we had a few circuits of the town looking for likely places. It was more a city than a town so not very easy, made more complicated by the signs being in Flemish (I can sort of understand French, but Flemish is another story). They had lots of things ending in “fahrts” which may explain the odd silage smells that keep wafting into the van. Anyway we saw another campervan that looked as if it too were looking, Di said, “follow it”, but we couldn’t as it was gone in the wrong direction before we knew what was happening. We found a large park like area which had been dug up and were contemplating stopping under some trees when the campervan we had seen earlier turned in ahead of us and we pulled up beside each other. I was relieved to see GB number plates, the woman driver tried a timid “parlais vous Anglais?” and was equally relieved when we replied in Kiwi. They said even with their GPS they hadn’t managed to find the site, so we both decided to park up and face the officials together should they appear. Of course they didn’t, so we had a peaceful night under the trees right next to a large adventure playground/park with paddle boats to hire, fishing lake and mini golf etc.