Bumps in the Road

Train travel is very relaxing IF you are only carrying your purse. I could not lift my baggage onto the train. I asked a young man at Brussels to help me and he was most gracious - I practically licked his boots. Leading up to this was the event of missing the first train to Brugge because the guy at the (mis-)
information booth told me the wrong track, so my train came and went “over there.” Not too bad, the next train left in 30 minutes from another track, just time enough to get my luggage down the stairs, over to the left, and up the stairs again. Getting off at Brugge was the cause of a little anxiety; if you have traveled by train in Europe, you know that they stop at the station for one minute. All I could think of was the time a friend of mine jumped off a moving train because she didn’t know that and didn‘t get ready soon enough. So, I went to stand by the door with my luggage, thinking that if I couldn’t get it out, all the people behind me would be anxious enough to get off that someone would help me. Fortunately, I didn’t have to take those extreme measures; a young couple not only helped me get everything off the train, but all the way downstairs because the elevator was broken. How many ways can you say thank you? (Do you know how old I feel? Soon people will be helping me cross the street.)

Brugge is a story-book town; it looks like someone made it up, it’s so quaint. The afternoon I got here I took the canal boat ride that was part of my package - it was partly sunny, not too cold, and the ride was just delightful! Belgium, as you know, is one of the low countries, so the canals go around and through the town, in some cases right up to the doorsteps of residences and buildings, just like in Venice. Low bridges cross the canals in many places; one even had stalactites (or is that stalagmites?) The architecture is similar to Holland and Germany - the stepped gables like Lynden tries to do. The town is ancient - the dates on some buildings are 17th century, but the town dates back to the 10th century.

I discovered Belgium waffles. No, you haven’t had a Belgium waffle unless you had it in Belgium. There’s very little resemblance to the ones you buy at the N.W. Washington Fair other than the pattern on it. This waffle was heavenly, covered (COVERED, I say) with a variety of FRESH fruit; no, not preserved strawberries like the Sidewalk Café in Lynden. I decided that was the only thing I wanted to eat while I was here. Unfortunately, I couldn’t find the place again today - so much for my sense of direction. I did find a tea room which was darling, warm and inviting to a “flaneuse” who was wet and tired (it rained constantly today), so decided to take my chances. The waffle itself was different, a little crispier on the outside, a little airier on the inside, but the fruit was as fresh and abundant as the first one I had. And - the coffee was so good, I ordered another one. I wonder if anyone has ever done that before in this continent of one-cup-is-all-you-get.

As I said, it’s been raining all day. It’s also Monday so all the museums are closed, except for the Chocolate Museum which was open, but after trodding all over town looking for it in the rain, when I got there I realized I don’t really care how chocolate is made; especially when it costs $14 to find out. I’d rather spend the $14 on chocolate. So I left, uneducated.

I was amused by the names of these two businesses across the street from each other:




After a little shopping (I HAD to, it was raining) I came back to the hotel and postponed my guided tour (included) until tomorrow, hoping my ankles would feel better and that it would stop raining. So now I’m sitting in the hotel bar, having a beer and writing this. It’s very pleasant, the beer is good, classical music is playing. My computer will not connect with their wireless, so I don’t know when I’ll be able to post this to my blog or send any more pictures. The ones I took today were a little gloomy anyway.

Breakfast has changed and the smells have changed. I remember now what I didn’t like about Germany - for breakfast you get cold cuts and cheese and everything smells like sausage and sauerkraut. I really loved my croissants and café au lait.

Sorry, Krysta, about the picture of me and the Eiffel Tower. It just didn’t work out. I tried taking one myself, but it looked like the Eiffel Tower was growing out of my head, so you’ll have to be satisfied of one of the Eiffel Tower and one of me and the horses. I loved them, but I didn’t take a carriage ride because I didn’t want to exploit the horses. Every time I heard the clatter of their hooves on the cobblestones, all I could think of was shin splints.



If there’s anything worth telling you about, I’ll post one more blog. Otherwise this is

FIN

Postscript: I'll post pictures and videos on Thursday. Right now I have to get out of this smoky internet cafe before I get lung cancer.