After a lovely wait in Gare du Nord, it was finally time to get on the Thalys and head for Brugge (which the locals pronounce 'Bru-chuh', and it sounds like somebody puking). The reason for this odd pronunciation is that Bruges is in West Flanders, where everybody speaks Dutch. Since I don't know any Dutch, and had never heard Dutch, it was rather a shock to get off the train and suddenly become illiterate. Fortunately, it seems like everybody over here is fluent in English, which was decidedly not the case in France (many Belgians are also fluent in French, because half the place is Francophone and half is, uhh, Dutchophone?) After a short bus ride, I arrived at my hostel just in time to take a walking tour of the city. The old city center of Brugge is actually quite small (think CoMo sized), but is much prettier than London or Paris. The houses have gable stepped roofs and ornate brickwork, and the public buildings are as ornate as any in Europe. The square at city hall and the Markt square are the two main public areas, and both are fantastic. The Markt features the famed Belfry of Brugge, which has a tiny, winding staircase you can take to the top for a commanding view of the town (it's a pretty strenuous climb). The view at the top is amazing, but will be interrupted every 15 minutes by the carillon ringing out a song not 10 feet from your head. Interestingly enough, the one it plays at the top of the hour is "It's A Long Way to Tipperary", which is better known to those of us in Missouri as "Every True Son", or those of us in kansas as "Dammit, They Scored Again". The preservation of the old city and the presence of some canals has led some to call Brugge the Venice of the north. I'll be able to judge that for myself in a few weeks, but it's probably pretty close.
The other good thing I got from the walking tour was a chance to meet some people from the hostel I'm staying at. Immediately after the tour ended, a group of us comprised of 3 Australians, one Canadian, and I went back to a bar we had been shown called De Garre (pronounced De Charreh, with the guttural ch). De Garre is located down a narrow alley off the street in between the two public squares, and you'd never know there was anything worth going to there if somebody didn't tell you (there is no sign). If you do manage to find the place, your reward is a sublime blond ale that costs €4.25 per glass, and is amazing at hiding the fact that it's 12% ABV. After that, we went to a restaurant serving traditional Flemish food, which for me was a rabbit stew. Then, we went back to the hostel and had a bunch more delicious beers from Belgium and talked until it was time to pass out. These all cost about €4, and are also high-alcohol, so it takes fewer than you think.
The next morning (this morning), I woke up with a lovely hangover, and after some coffee and juice (and a nap), I set off to do two things. First, I went and climbed the belfry, and had some delicious fries covered in a brown Flemish stew and mayonnaise (the Belgians do fries better than the French). Second, I went off to find the holy grail of beers: Westvleteren 12. Brewed by monks at the Abbey of St. Sixtus, this is regarded by many as the best beer in the world, and getting it is a process. The monks only sell it at their abbey and forbid others from reselling it. However, the ban comes with a wink and a nod, as people do resell it in beer stores. I had to go to four of them to find the stuff, but I did manage to procure a bottle of the fabled brew (I'll review that later).
After taking a break to start this post, I went back out to find some chocolate. This was accomplished at De Burg chocolatier in De Burg, which is the smaller of the two squares, and home to the Basilica of the Holy Blood. The basilica dates from the 1400s, and its claim to fame is that it purportedly has some of the blood of Christ in a reliquary. I went inside to check it out, because why not. The church is still Gothic, but lacks the sheer size of the cathedrals like Notre Dame de Paris. This actually works in its favor because the smaller size and lower roof mean you get a better look at the stained glass. Also, unlike Notre Dame &c, the whole ceiling and ceiling supports are painted, making the place feel warner than Notre Dame's plain white limestone everywhere. Dinner was a waffle covered in chocolate sauce from a waffle cart. It was delicious, but kind of messy.
Tomorrow I leave Bruges for Berlin.
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