Posted by 
Position: 51°03’24.5″N 3°43’32.5″E
Mention Bruges to any movie-goer and they will inevitably quote Ray, Colin Farrell’s doomed Irish hitman from the film In Bruges. “F*****g Bruges!” they will say. Ray doesn’t like Bruges one bit. To be fair, it would be hard to like any place you’ve been sent to be whacked. In Bruges came out in 2008, about the time the city started losing its charm.
F*****g Bruges!
Like most diligent travellers, both Carol and I had already visited Bruges and thoroughly enjoyed it. Our memories were warm and softly focused. Visitors today alight, as we did then, at the modern steel and glass train station and walk a kilometre through stands of protective trees towards the city centre. Ancient brick buildings line the narrow streets and grow taller as you approach the centre. Soon you cross canals which flow around and underneath the orderly rows of four and five storey houses. That much hasn’t changed in the 30 or 40 years since either of us was there.
Bucket List
Something had changed, though. It took a while to figure out what it was. Then it struck us with all the resonant gravity of Brendan Gleeson falling 200′ from Bruges’s 13th century belfry. No one, absolutely no one spoke Flemish. Or even Dutch. Not a single soul. Only the canal boat tour guides proffered a few words here and there to complement the French/German/English phrases they had learned by rote. Over the past three decades Bruges, like so many places, has become a bucket list item. Something to check off and post on social media to prove you went there. While it remains a site of historical and cultural significance, these days you have to dig through layers and layers of hot chocolate and machine-woven lace shops to find its soul. Even then, I suspect that like Venice, full-time residents are a dwindling breed.
Photos
If you were fortunate enough to have visited 30 years ago, as enchanting as it is I can’t recommend going back. Enjoy your memories and redirect your energies towards a new experience. If you’ve never been to Bruges, here are some photos you can post on social media:
Ghent
A limerick[1] should not define a city any more than a comedy-thriller should. Nevertheless, ask any English rugby player what they know about Ghent and they are likely to reply with five poetic lines of smut. The good news is, said limerick has nothing to do with the city or its environs. Thus, while I can recite the words to the limerick, my ignorance of Ghent itself was near complete.
Like Bruges, it is an ancient city and today it is Belgium’s third largest municipality. In other words, there is a lot going on there. Tourists head to the old city centre where they are rewarded with an array of 15th to 17th century buildings and an honest-to-gosh castle. Sipping an espresso in a café that pre-dates the Mayflower is an experience any American can appreciate.
Market Day
A few steps up from the Leie River, the Vridagmarkt (Friday Market) has set up shop since 1199. The weekly market occupies one of Ghent’s largest town squares and from our observations does great business. Fresh vegetables, fish, meat, and cheeses sit beside cheap clothing and bric-a-brac stalls. Public markets of this kind have done business for centuries all across Europe. That they exist at all speaks to their deep cultural roots and ability to supply products big box retailers cannot. Bars and restaurants surround the square’s perimeter and, starting early in the morning, do a roaring trade.
Ghent is a working city with a diverse population. Roughly a third of the city’s populace is ‘non-Belgian’ with roots outside of the country. Combine that with two universities and four colleges, you have a vibrant melting pot for arts and innovation. And while our visit concentrated on the touristy heart of the city, there were plenty of galleries and vegan restaurants to serve the crunchiest of Zoomers. The inherent tensions those societal elements imply always make a place more interesting and attractive for us.
Photos
[1] There was a young man of Ghent,
Whose *rick was so long that it bent,
To save himself trouble,
He folded it double,
And instead of coming, he went.
