"If I grew up on a farm, and was retarded, Bruges might impress me, but I didn't, so it doesn't." If you've seen the movie In Bruges you'll no doubt recognize this quote. No post about Bruges would be complete without at least a brief tie in to the film that gave Bruges its greatest spike in international popularity and tourism. If you haven't seen the film or heard of it, it's a funny but crass film starring Colin Farrell as a London-based Irish hitman sent to hide out in Bruges.
So when I got to Bruges I expected the city and especially the people in the tourist industry (which is pretty much everyone in the city) to be well aware of it. What I didn't expect was how much the city has apparently embraced it. The hostel I was staying in had posters and quotes from the movie all over the place. The free tour was an "In Bruges Free Walking Tour." People readily pointed out sets from the film.
Honestly I had planned to try and force memories of the movie out of my head and just experience it for what it was. But after seeing all of the signage and hearing tour guides talking about it- I couldn't resist. I just had to re-watch it my first night there. And despite still trying to give the town a fair shake, every time something would go even slightly awry I would find myself grumbling under my breath in a Colin Farrell accent, "f*cking Bruges..." It really does get stuck in your head.
My first day there I was still feeling the aftereffects from my drinking tour of Brussels with Rick so I didn't do a whole heck of a lot aside from watch the movie. I did walk from the hostel through the north gate of the city and up to the lone supermarket to acquire some groceries. Along the way I got my first taste of the medieval "fairytale" style houses.
I also purchased some Trappist cheese, in this case Chimay, made by the Trappist monks who brew some of my favorite beer. Those monks must be 400 pounds each since they only produce beer and cheese. That said, if I wasn't so irreverent I could consider that as a potential post-wanderlust career opportunity. A simple life but, with unlimited beer and cheese, a happy one to be sure.
As alluded to in the Antwerp post, Bruges was once one of the most important trading hubs in the world. From the 12th through 15th centuries its port was one of the largest in Europe and with the city strategically situated along trading routes leading from the Hanseatic League to the south and west it passed through more trade than almost any other city. Much of the city's current layout and features were constructed during this period. Around 1500, however, Bruges' channel to the sea gradually filled with sand and Antwerp became the primary shipping and trading destination within Belgium.
The city fell into decline and by the 19th century was nearly abandoned. In the late 19th century it began to see a resurgence as a tourist destination and new tourism projects renovated, reconstructed, and preserved the medieval look and style of the buildings, thereby increasing this trend. For many decades it was a popular destination among the English and French but in the last half of the 20th century began to become an international destination- an awareness that no doubt exploded even more after the release of the film. These days, the city is renown for it's medieval buildings and romantic canals.
Yay romance. But there are some other interesting things to be found around the city if you fancy a walk just a bit further out of the very city center. For example, did you know there are windmills in Bruges? Bam!
There are actually four working windmills on the easternmost side of the old city center- along what was once the city walls and moat. What else do we know about Bruges? Well its the supposed chocolate capital of the world. I guess that's if you assume that Belgian chocolate is better than Swiss? I don't really know and didn't taste any as I don't like chocolate.
I'll give you a second to get over any shock that last statement may have caused. Despite my general ambivalence to chocolate I must say that there are shops ALL OVER the old town selling homemade chocolates. So if chocolate is your thing, I can recommend Bruges from that angle alone. You'll be in mega-choco-heaven.
I'll give you a second to get over any shock that last statement may have caused. Despite my general ambivalence to chocolate I must say that there are shops ALL OVER the old town selling homemade chocolates. So if chocolate is your thing, I can recommend Bruges from that angle alone. You'll be in mega-choco-heaven.
Oh, here is something interesting: Astrid Park. In the film this is where Colin Farrell plans to shoot himself in the head. It's also described on my map as the "frisbee & cute asses park." I can't vouch for the former but I paraded my tuckus through there like I was the King of Belgium. And I nearly fell in the pond taking this picture for you.
Oh! This. This is tremendous. And so freaking creepy! This place specializes in family portrait photography. NUDE family portrait photography. I walked by the window and did a double take, then walked back past it three times to make sure I was seeing what I thought I was seeing. It's tasteful nudes yes, but nude photos of families nonetheless. So bizarre. I tried to get a photo straight on but the shop keepers were glaring at me through the window so this was the best I could do. You wouldn't think owners of a shop displaying photos of nude families in their windows would care much about others photographing them...
This post has certainly taken a turn from what I (and I'm sure you) were expecting- churches, canals, old buildings, etc. So let's get back on track with a nice fountain...
....of two beheaded horses vomiting in opposite directions! HaHA! Why is Bruges so weird? But I'll admit at this point it had started growing on me. I promise there will be more canals and stuff but first, check this out:
That is the courtyard of a Beguinage- a nunnery for beguines. Beguins are an order of mystic nuns started during the 12th century that had some odd beliefs (such as "marrying" themselves to Jesus) that the Church didn't approve of. So they set up these convents where only women are allowed at night. But it's not all hocus pocus- their mission is to help the poor. Keep these folks mind, there's an even more massive one coming up in Ghent. Also, according to my map, this is a good place to make out. I assume that doesn't apply to the nuns but the map was silent to that point so you're on your own there. Anyway, thanks for bearing with me. Here's a canal.
And, for those still reading, a winding old street with lots of medieval buildings AND the Romanesque St. Salvador's Cathedral.
"But Mike, I've heard that the Church of Our Lady is much more beautiful and the canals around it are SUPER romantic. Can we see those?" Abracadabra! In rapid succession, Our Lady seductively dominating the skyline:
Moving in for a closer look, here are some of Our Lady's alluring trappings:
Our Lady's canal:
Our Lady from the rear:
And finally Our Lady's jealous neighbors:
Phew. I don't know about you but Our Lady wore me out. Fortuitously the old main square is just a short stroll away. In this square are are four things of note: (1) Town Hall (pictured below); (2) Holy Blood Chapel; (3) foundations of the St. Donaas church; and (4) the frog.
Just to the right of the city hall is a tiny chapel nestled in the corner, the Holy Blood Chapel. In this chapel there is a vial of redish "liquid" that is said to be the blood of Christ brought back from the crusades. Some have alleged that the blood miraculously transforms from solid to liquid form during the hours it is shown. Also the vial is the head of the procession on Ascension Day. I can't say any more on it as I didn't see it for two reasons. One, it wasn't open when I went by, and two, the thought of lining up to look at blood creeped me out. So pulled a Ray and stayed outside.
You may look around the Burg Square and ask, "where the hell are these supposed foundations Mike?" They are very sneakily hidden in what is now the basement of the Crown Plaza hotel. But if you walk in and go down to the basement you can check them out. Fun fact: one of the Dukes of Flanders was murdered there while praying. Finally, at the foot of a statue in the center of the square is a bronze frog. My tourist map has apparently created a new "centuries old" tradition whereby passersby have to kiss the frog. If 1,000 people do it will turn into a handsome prince or princess who will "carry your backpack for the rest of your life. For free." Who can pass up a deal like that? Just dive right in there and give that little guy a smooch!
Wow, I've been rambling on and on about windmills and my derriere and nude photography and magic frogs and I've not even mentioned the most popular tourist attraction in all of Bruges. How's that for being awesome? Actually, don't answer that. Anyway, here it is- the Markt with the infamous Belfry that was in 78.31% of all shots from In Bruges according to the Bureau of Statistics I Just Invented.
All of the activity in the center of the Markt is the construction of the winter-season ice rink. The day I arrived in Bruges, Newcastle was playing Bruges in a football match in the whatever-league-is-below-the-Champions-League League. Group play. I have no idea what that means either. But the city was swarming with Newcastle fans (which means the city was ready to party). That night the square had a giant projection screen for the game and about 6,000 Newcastle fans to populate it, chant, cheer, drink, and throw beers. Due to exhaustion and mandated 1 day detox I only saw a bit of the chaos and drank zero beers but the match ended in a 2-2 tie, apparently a huge win for Bruges.
But what does that have to do with the Belfry? Nothing. And what does the view look like from up there? Uh... here.
The two towers everyone loves to hate to love. And here is what the Markt looks like from the tower and probably the last view Ken saw as he plunged to his death (whoops- spoiler alert). You can see the ice rink going up in the middle.
I know I rag on it a little but even with all of the chaos, the Markt is just as quaint and picturesque as they portray it in the film. And at night it really is all lit up and people sit at the various cafes and restaurants drinking Belgian beer. At least until 10 or 11 because by then the city is pretty much dead. It's not just in the square though- the whole city center is pretty much lit up.
The night after the football match I did go out with my Newcastle friends. Even with all the Geordies in town it was still a quiet night relative to Brussels or anywhere in the Netherlands. That said, one bar had a really cool DJ booth. And the Geordies I was with got him to play Venga Boys. Whoa.
I didn't really do a very good job of keeping this thing within the realm of time/space continuum- all those pictures are from the duration of my stay. Here's a brief recap in case you are confused. Day 1: did nothing. Day 2: walked around, did "In Bruges" tour, went out with Newcastle people. Day 3: I went to Ghent (covered in the next post). Day 4: walked around the city a bit more before doing a final repack and some writing. Guess what I saw on my walk? More canals!
The reason I decided to do my final repack in Belgium rather than France or even England was twofold. One, I bought a few Trappist ales in Belgium that needed to be properly packed. Two, and more importantly, the shoes I bought in Hamburg for 30 euro completely wore out! Look at this!
That was in 3 weeks. German engineering my ass! Germans do a great job of making lots of things but apparently kicks are not among them. It's no wonder they lost the war- everyone was walking around with holes in their shoes. With these dead, my NB's out of commission, and it being too cold for sandals, I had no choice but to go the rest of the way with my hiking boots which were at the very bottom of my pack.
Anyway, Bruges isn't the "shithole" claimed by Colin Farrell in the movie. But it is about as advertised. It's charming and old and romantic. There's lots of towers to climb and chocolate shops to check out. It's a bit quiet at night and it's swarmed with tourists and shops/restaurants/cafes catering to tourists. I could see it as a nice holiday destination for the girlfriend, wife, or family, but as a solo traveler you really only need 1-2 days here tops. The one disappointing thing? No racist midgets.
I'll leave you with this note I wrote as I was leaving Bruges: "Standing at the bus stop outside the hostel and I'm running through all of the things I need to do in the next week before I fly back home and all of the stuff in the first week back and then I'm reading the bus schedule times and I notice these two blond Belgian girls a few feet away staring at me. It is at this exact moment I realize I've been saying all of this aloud rather than just thinking it."
Bonus Photo: A few of you dear readers may have noticed a distinct lack of an obligatory photo of your Wanderlust capitano. Here I am at the top of the Belfry. Hot from the climb but freezing my ass off in the wind. Good thing I had already strutted that bad boy.
The two towers everyone loves to hate to love. And here is what the Markt looks like from the tower and probably the last view Ken saw as he plunged to his death (whoops- spoiler alert). You can see the ice rink going up in the middle.
I know I rag on it a little but even with all of the chaos, the Markt is just as quaint and picturesque as they portray it in the film. And at night it really is all lit up and people sit at the various cafes and restaurants drinking Belgian beer. At least until 10 or 11 because by then the city is pretty much dead. It's not just in the square though- the whole city center is pretty much lit up.
The night after the football match I did go out with my Newcastle friends. Even with all the Geordies in town it was still a quiet night relative to Brussels or anywhere in the Netherlands. That said, one bar had a really cool DJ booth. And the Geordies I was with got him to play Venga Boys. Whoa.
I didn't really do a very good job of keeping this thing within the realm of time/space continuum- all those pictures are from the duration of my stay. Here's a brief recap in case you are confused. Day 1: did nothing. Day 2: walked around, did "In Bruges" tour, went out with Newcastle people. Day 3: I went to Ghent (covered in the next post). Day 4: walked around the city a bit more before doing a final repack and some writing. Guess what I saw on my walk? More canals!
The reason I decided to do my final repack in Belgium rather than France or even England was twofold. One, I bought a few Trappist ales in Belgium that needed to be properly packed. Two, and more importantly, the shoes I bought in Hamburg for 30 euro completely wore out! Look at this!
That was in 3 weeks. German engineering my ass! Germans do a great job of making lots of things but apparently kicks are not among them. It's no wonder they lost the war- everyone was walking around with holes in their shoes. With these dead, my NB's out of commission, and it being too cold for sandals, I had no choice but to go the rest of the way with my hiking boots which were at the very bottom of my pack.
Anyway, Bruges isn't the "shithole" claimed by Colin Farrell in the movie. But it is about as advertised. It's charming and old and romantic. There's lots of towers to climb and chocolate shops to check out. It's a bit quiet at night and it's swarmed with tourists and shops/restaurants/cafes catering to tourists. I could see it as a nice holiday destination for the girlfriend, wife, or family, but as a solo traveler you really only need 1-2 days here tops. The one disappointing thing? No racist midgets.
I'll leave you with this note I wrote as I was leaving Bruges: "Standing at the bus stop outside the hostel and I'm running through all of the things I need to do in the next week before I fly back home and all of the stuff in the first week back and then I'm reading the bus schedule times and I notice these two blond Belgian girls a few feet away staring at me. It is at this exact moment I realize I've been saying all of this aloud rather than just thinking it."
Bonus Photo: A few of you dear readers may have noticed a distinct lack of an obligatory photo of your Wanderlust capitano. Here I am at the top of the Belfry. Hot from the climb but freezing my ass off in the wind. Good thing I had already strutted that bad boy.
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