Bruges
I want to go on the record that everyone told me that I should stay in Bruges, not Brussels, and after visiting, I have no idea why. Don’t get me wrong, Bruges is a very pretty city; many parts of it are actually designated as World Heritage Sites. And renting bikes to get around was a lot of fun, especially since I perfected my map reading while biking skills in Amsterdam. But honestly, after a few hours and a tasty lunch, I was ready to hit the city again. So while I’m glad that I went, I think I would have gotten very bored if I had spent three days there instead of Brussels. Although I could probably have eaten my weight in chocolate if I tried.
And it was a beautiful city – just see for yourself:
When we disembarked from the train station in Bruges, we noticed signs for the Cactus Festival. Seeing as how I had just been informed that one of my cacti back home had gone on to that big desert in the sky (through no fault of its caretaker – it was probably killed by the shock of actually being cared for), I thought it may be fun to walk through a festival all about cacti. After all, I could probably use a few caretaking tips.
But boy, was this Cactus Festival NOT what I was expecting. For starters, there were no succulents about (at least not the legal ones). But there were plenty of festival fans! It turns out that the Cactus Festival is a three day music festival, one with a variety of English and American stars, including Macy Gray. And from the looks of it, camping facilities without many of those amenities I like so much – beds, showers, soap – those sorts of things. Oops!
Oh well, it was pretty funny to go and watch everyone hanging out, but we weren’t willing to pay the 50 euro entrance fee. Even the ticket scalpers were asking a hefty price, so off we went to find some bikes and check out the city of Bruges (although really, it’s like a quaint little town).
At the end of the day, taking the train back to Brussels, I was once again reminded of the Europeans disdain for personal space. I take full responsibility for elbowing someone in the back at least twice – there was plenty of room in the aisle of the train (it was standing room only at this point – but there was lots of room to stand), and he decided he would stand ON TOP OF ME! WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! It was a tough train ride home and boy, did we earn the chocolate we ate that night!
And while I’m complaining, I believe it should be the law in every country that you have to wear a shirt while you are taking public transportation. Because that’s just gross.
That night, we found another Italian restaurant to watch the Germany-Uruguay game (I rooted for Uruguay – same side of the world and all – oh well). It would have been perfect – if it wasn’t for the downpour that started five minutes before we left the hotel! Oh my goodness – it was as if the heavens had been taken over by the angry gods of yesteryear and were hurling forth with all the rage they possessed! The umbrella that the hotel lent us was a complete and utter joke; we practically had to cross rivers to get four blocks away to the restaurant! To say we looked like drowned rats when we got there is an insult to drowned rats – we looked worse! But we made it, only to be stuck with bad wine and barely edible food. J. had an early flight the next day, so we decided to leave at half-time. And just as well – celebrating Germans are a rowdy!
And it was a beautiful city – just see for yourself:
When we disembarked from the train station in Bruges, we noticed signs for the Cactus Festival. Seeing as how I had just been informed that one of my cacti back home had gone on to that big desert in the sky (through no fault of its caretaker – it was probably killed by the shock of actually being cared for), I thought it may be fun to walk through a festival all about cacti. After all, I could probably use a few caretaking tips.
But boy, was this Cactus Festival NOT what I was expecting. For starters, there were no succulents about (at least not the legal ones). But there were plenty of festival fans! It turns out that the Cactus Festival is a three day music festival, one with a variety of English and American stars, including Macy Gray. And from the looks of it, camping facilities without many of those amenities I like so much – beds, showers, soap – those sorts of things. Oops!
Oh well, it was pretty funny to go and watch everyone hanging out, but we weren’t willing to pay the 50 euro entrance fee. Even the ticket scalpers were asking a hefty price, so off we went to find some bikes and check out the city of Bruges (although really, it’s like a quaint little town).
At the end of the day, taking the train back to Brussels, I was once again reminded of the Europeans disdain for personal space. I take full responsibility for elbowing someone in the back at least twice – there was plenty of room in the aisle of the train (it was standing room only at this point – but there was lots of room to stand), and he decided he would stand ON TOP OF ME! WITHOUT MY PERMISSION! It was a tough train ride home and boy, did we earn the chocolate we ate that night!
And while I’m complaining, I believe it should be the law in every country that you have to wear a shirt while you are taking public transportation. Because that’s just gross.
That night, we found another Italian restaurant to watch the Germany-Uruguay game (I rooted for Uruguay – same side of the world and all – oh well). It would have been perfect – if it wasn’t for the downpour that started five minutes before we left the hotel! Oh my goodness – it was as if the heavens had been taken over by the angry gods of yesteryear and were hurling forth with all the rage they possessed! The umbrella that the hotel lent us was a complete and utter joke; we practically had to cross rivers to get four blocks away to the restaurant! To say we looked like drowned rats when we got there is an insult to drowned rats – we looked worse! But we made it, only to be stuck with bad wine and barely edible food. J. had an early flight the next day, so we decided to leave at half-time. And just as well – celebrating Germans are a rowdy!
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