In Brugge with Belgian Woggles

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On the train to London after Clare's graduation we immediately ran into a spot of bother. Some lunatic had pinched our seat and showed us a ticket that should have seen him on the 07:07 train from Edinburgh to Peterborough. Clare stood her ground and the crettin eventually moved, having apparently refused to do so when asked by a Chinese couple earlier on. The trip got more eventfull when a smelly Yorkshireman got on at York with two turtles no less, which he popped on the table infront of me.
We arrived at Kings Cross and headed across the road to St. Pancras where we waited in utter discomfort for five hours until we were able to get on the Eurostar to Paris. On arrival we crossed the road from Gare du Nord to McDonalds and were reluctantly given a bacon and egg McMuffin - we asked for sausage - by the first sour-faced Frenchy we would encounter that morning.
Absolutely sweating, I changed into shorts in the toilets at Gare du Nord after having given the second angry French woman 70C for the convenience - on giving me change she looked at me as though I'd urinated on her children. We quickly decided that this was no time to loitre around Paris and got on the next train to Brugge via Lille.

All 45 minutes of Lille were charming and we ate freshly baked goods at a tiny bakery called 'Paul', where the two French waiters were an utter delight!
Promptly getting on our next train to Brugge (and our most enjoyable train journey yet) we realised we'd travelled through three countries in one day...not bad at all.
Arriving in Brugge with no idea where our Hostel was, we got on a local bus which was heading for 'Centrum'. Brugge is easily the prettiest town I have been to with perfectly preserved medievil buildings and impressive architecture. We sweated profusely as we walked around aimlessly in hope of stumbling across our Hostel, which we finally located with the help of a friendly Belgian bookshop assistant.
Our accommodation is pleasant, with a nice view of slanting rooftops, but no air-con or fan and with the window closed it is a veritable furnace! There is an amazingly quaint pub just a few doors up from us which we have frequented numerous times thus far - the owner looks remarkably like Uncle Albert off Only Fools and Horses.

We discovered that 21/07/10 is Belgian National Day, which explained the stage that we'd seen erected the previous day. We wondered through the maze of cobbled streets towards the market square and as we neared the Belfry we heard the sound of trumpets and drums. Following the sound, camcorder in hand, we turned a corner and there standing was a marching band. We ended up pretty much following the band round the streets to The Church of Our Lady, which we entered, leaving the band trumpeting away behind us.
Inside the Church we were allowed to take photo's and get video footage which we knew would be a rareity, so we took full advantage. The most popular article was Michaelangelo's sculpture of Madonna and Child which was cased in protective glass.
After the Church we managed to find a place selling sandwiches for 3 Euros, which felt like a lucky find amongst restaurants selling salads for 15 Euros. We ate up and then embarked on the 366 narrow spiraling stairs to the top of the Belfry (Bell Tower) which turned out to be a bit of an anti-climax as the majority of the top floor was closed off rendering the panoramic view impossible - the mesh bars didnt help matters either.

No sooner had we descended the Belfry we found ourselves audience to a multi-lingual canal boat driver, who shot us round the waterways spouting out English, Flemish, German, French and Spanish - his command over language is what ultimately earned him a 2 Euro tip.
We finally located the Groeninge Museum and took a look at the works of David, Memling and Van Eyck (a statue of whom we had spotted on the boat trip). Unimpressed by the elongated heads and zombie-like features of these primitve paintings, Clare was interested to learn a little of the history behind the artists and the era. We are sure to be more impressed by Rubens' mastery in Antwerp tomorrow.

As we meandered back through the city streets we reflected on how many little dogs - or woggles - we had seen in Brugge. Shih tzu's galore! We have, as a result, decided to film and photograph as many passing dogs as possible - the tiny Pug yelping at an enormous horse made for interesting filming.
As evening approached our bellies began to do a little rumble, and Clare had her eye on a kebab shop we'd past. It came less of a surprise then, when Clare confessed to me that organic, free-range meat misses the "ooomph" of battery farmed, mass-produced trot! So, a kebab it was.

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With Love...Blake and Clare

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