But this blog entry isn't really about movies, it's about last weekend (Dec 2-4). Brooke took a trip to Belgium this past summer when she was the graduate assistant at the Flow House and enjoyed it so much that she was willing to make the trip with me. I found a cheap flight through EasyJet which happened to go through Lyon, so on Friday afternoon I was able to grab coffee and catch up with Mary-Kate during my lay-over. Then I continued on to Brussels, where I met Brooke in the train station and the two of us took a train to Bruges.
Brooke was in charge of the accommodations and we ended up staying at a hostel very near the city center. It was called... wait for it... Snuffel Hostel. Anyone familiar with my family's "Snuffles the cat" gag will find this somewhat amusing, I certainly did. Here's photographic evidence, but really, would I make this up?
Friday night we got in pretty late, and Bruges is sort of a tourist town, so by 11pm our food options were pretty much limited to frituurs (French fry stands / restaurants). We indulged, then grabbed a drink at a bar called The Illusionist. When in Belgium one can hardly drink wine, so we both tried one of the beers on tap. Mine was a Brugse Zot blond, and we found out the following day on our canal tour that Brugse Zot is only type of beer still brewed within the Bruges city walls. I thought it was tasty!
The next morning we let ourselves sleep in until 9am, then hit the city for some hardcore sight-seeing and chocolate window-shopping (okay, we tasted a bit). The Markt Square is the center of Bruges and it is breath-taking. Brooke is a big fan of Gothic architecture and I can see why she likes Bruges so much -- these people did Gothic in a big way. Usually Gothic buildings in France are limited to cathedrals, so it was cool to see the same style used for municipal buildings. Bruges was lucky to escape the ravages of WWII and so all of these glorious old buildings are intact. All of the Christmas decorations are up to, which are particularly nice because it gets dark so early now (4:45pm here in Besançon). There was also a skating rink set up in the middle of the square, surrounded by the "Christmas market." I put that in scare quotes because most of the wares being proffered for sale were the Made in China variety and half of the stalls were selling the Belgian foodstuff equivalent of State Fair food (churros? pitas?). That's not to say it wasn't still festive-looking, it just felt a bit Disneyland-esque. 
So first we went on a boat tour of the canals, something Brooke did last summer and highly recommended. It was cool to see the city from the canals, and our guide was very informative, if a bit monotone. He was British; Brits also seemed to make up a majority of the tourists I saw in Bruges. After the canal tour Brooke and I headed across the square to the Fish Market (which now is mostly populated with craft-vendors, but did have one or two fish vendors). Last summer Brooke bought a watercolor from an artist there, who promptly asked if he could paint her portrait, which he then gave her. Not only was that artist there, but his girlfriend who was running his stand recognized Brooke! The artist, a certain Johan Lootens, was painting in a cafe across the square because of the bad weather (actually we were lucky and it didn't rain, but it looked foreboding all day). We stopped in to saw hello, then continued on our way in search of the perfect Belgian chocolate. Well, I can hardly say that we conducted a systematic scientific study. Mostly we window-shopped, and we may or may not have tried a few samples. There were soo many different chocolate stores, it would take a whole weekend just to look in all of them. Here was one of the displays: 
The best chocolate I sampled was from a store called Galler. Despite the immaculate and appealing window displays, the store was completely empty when we walked by (code for: it's really expensive). I tried just one chocolate and it was heavenly. Brooke pointed out that Galler is a "Belgian Royal Warrant Holder," meaning that the Belgian royal family officially endorses their products. How cool is that?
Here I'm tasting a free sample of the store's homemade marshmellows dipped in their chocolate fountain! My marshmellow was cassis-flavored.
Here is Brooke purchasing the first Belgian waffle of the weekend. I have to admit I was a bit skeptical of all of the hype; I like waffles as much as the next decent fellow, but they don't strike me as crave-worthy, mouth-watery dessert-status. But, I was wrong. These waffles weren't your average slap-on-the-butter-and-syrup kind... they tasted almost like brioche: thick and sweet dough with an almost crispy sugary outside. Brooke went for the nature variety (plain) and she had the right idea. I tried one with chocolate sauce later in the weekend, and the chocolate sort of masked the particular and delicious flavor of the waffle. Overall, a must-try.
In the afternoon Brooke and I did a self-guided walking tour of the city, courtesy of her guidebook. I won't rattle off the facts (let's face it, I don't remember a lot of them). Although there certainly isn't a lack of history, the best part of Bruges was the incredible atmosphere. The quaint architecture combined with the narrow streets and canals gave the city a magical quality, like Venice, but without the haunted side. Here are some pictures:
Then after the tour we climbed the 360 steps to the top of the Belfort (belfry). I thought that the 300+ steps to the top of the Strasbourg cathedral platform were a workout! But the Belfort had convenient little turn offs where we could give our legs a second to rest, I mean, where we could take advantage of the cool views...
It got dark around 4:45pm, and Brooke and I were both a little tired, so we took a quick nap at the hostel before dinner. Unfortunately by the time we got out and started checking out restaurants, most of them were full / booked for the night. We found one eventually, where I ordered a Flemish stew (washed it down with a Brugse Zot brun) and Brooke ordered wallabey! They were both quite yummy.
Sunday morning we were back out to do some more sight-seeing, then caught a train back to Brussels. We got there a bit later than we originally planned, because we decided to stop in the Bruggemuseum in the Stadhuis (town hall / rathaus / hôtel de ville). I'm so glad we did, because while the first floor was a little dull (lots of portraits of old guys on horses), the second floor contained the "gothic room," a ceremonial chamber designed to reflect the artistic, architectural, and historical heritage of Bruges (as in the paintings of historically-significant moments were done in a Flemish style of painting). It's relatively new: I believe it was finished around 1900. I thought it was magnificent, and a really neat way to preserve a city's history.
Then it was time to hit the road! Brooke and I headed back to Brussels, where we had lunch at a cafe called Arcadi Cafe (rue d'Arenberg 18). If you're ever in Brussels, I highly recommend it! Apparently the cafe is known for its quiche and the accolades are all well-deserved! My slice of mushroom quiche was phenomenal -- deserving of adjectives usually only reserved for breath-taking landscapes or miracle births or something equally exceptional. The desserts looked even better, but unfortunately we had to get going.
We really only walked around Brussels for a couple of hours: but I was struck by how much the city reminded me of a combination of Paris and Bruges. Brussels has the feel of a big city, but with some of the architecture I saw in Bruges mixed in. This is perhaps exemplified by the cathedral, which is squashed between two modern-looking buildings and faces a park with modern art sculptures. The main historical center (with the city hall, etc) was jam-packed with people (Brooke actually took these pictures on Friday afternoon when she was waiting for me to arrive... but we went to the same places on Sunday afternoon. They were much busier then!)
As soon as it got dark they started projecting a light show onto the town hall!
I mentioned that Brooke and I only spent a few hours in Brussels because we both had to catch our planes back home. Well, about that. It turns out that the train labeled "airport" (in English, no language issues here) which leaves from the Brussels-Midi train station doesn't actually go to the airport. Instead, it takes you to another train station, where you can then take a train to the airport (after waiting for about 20 minutes). So it turned out that we arrived in the airport train station less than 5 minutes before my flight was scheduled to board. Despite running through the main terminal to security, begging the airport security attendant to let me go ahead in the line (she refused) and then sprinting the length of the longest terminal I have ever encountered (listen, I run enough to be a decent judge of distances, this terminal was at least 3/4 of a mile long).... I missed my flight. Technically the airplane was still there, but they had closed the door and wouldn't let me on. So, I burst into tears. That didn't change their minds though (changing their minds wasn't even my intention, I think it was the post-sprint adrenaline dump). So, I pulled it together, walked to the information desk, and found another flight home. Luckily, Mary-Kate was nice enough to let me spend the night with her in Lyon, since taking the 8pm flight meant I missed the last train back to Besançon. I took the 5:22am train the next morning, which was scheduled to arrive at 8:30am -- enough time for me to make my first class at 9:15am), but which didn't arrive until 9:15am because the connection in Dijon was delayed. Yikes!! I guess I was overdue for a dose of bad travel karma. Cutting it closer than necessary by taking a later train from the Brussels city center was definitely my fault, but the unanticipated second train before the airport, plus the delayed train in Dijon were just bad luck. The school's director didn't seem too pleased (I called the school as soon as I realized I wasn't going to make it on time), but the teacher was really understanding.
Moral of the story: Bruges is really beautiful, but slightly too far from Besançon to go for a weekend. To all of the rest of you not commuting from a small town in France, I highly recommend it as a vacation destination. I bet it's even prettier in the summer too!
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