Tuesday, May 24/ Wednesday, May 25: The blog that refuses to die!

Tuesday, May 24/ Wednesday, May 25: The blog that refuses to die!

We dined "en suite," last night as they say (or was that "tout suite?") savoring morsels we’d picked off maid’s carts during the afternoon. (Who eats only half a tuna fish sandwich? Hey, people are starving somewhere.)

Our last day in Spain was uneventful: a nice buffet breakfast, some relaxation and a cab ride to the aero puerto. There we dined on pizza, Spain’s favorite food, while awaiting our luxury Vueling flight to Brussels. Vueling is a Euro no frills operation. Not only was there no meal, there was also no beverage unless one coughed up 2.60€ for a Coke, more for other options.

Once on the ground in Brussels, we took the train to Bruge, switching once, a comic schlepping (Dave bumbling along with a suitcase the size of a small car). Ah, but what’s 50 or 60 pounds when you’re hurrying and not sure it’s in the right direction? Both trains were modern, smooth and seemed able to reach their destinations without anything approaching speed. The passengers had a bemused (or lobotomized) Northern European look, as if nothing ever happened and no one would know how to respond if it did. This, despite another recent slaughter of innocents by ISIS. The Brussels airport is now stocked with soldiers – impossibly young and already bored – toting what look like rocket launchers. (While we want security to both work well and look mighty, one has to wonder: How tough it would be for terrorists willing to sacrifice themselves to get those super weapons away from the bored kid-soldiers? Once that was done, how many air travelers fall before the shooters are stopped? Put another way, how much easier is it to plan a mass attack if you can rely on your enemy to bring the guns you’ll need?)

On to happier thoughts at the Duke’s Palace in Bruges, a town which, Belgians assure us, we need not spend more than a day or two in. It’s a town of 100,000 or so French, German, Dutch, Flemish and Walloon people who live in peace and comfort, except when Deutchlanders march through. It’s also an egg-shaped town, one of the few shaped like an agricultural product. The movie "In Bruge" took a few liberties, but the town does have a central square, an impressive clock tower (366 steps up) and boats to take tourists around the canal system. There are chocolate shops without end, a big Farmer’s Market in the town square (Wednesday's and Saturdays) and tourists by the bus load.

Chocolate and waffles are the big tourist items here. Our Big Bucks hotel breakfast had foot-square blocks of chocolate that one was invited to saw chunks off of with a logging/torture implement. The result, however, was shavings, not chunks and, while tasty enough, it was hard to get the full plate we were after. As a consolation, there was all the champagne one could drink (quite a bit, actually) plus great pastries, fruit, lox, eggs, etc. Naturally, after this, we had to hit four or five chocolate shops, hoping to find cheap souvenirs for family and friends. To our amazement and chagrin, the stuff is expensive! Damned tourists are willing to pay twice as much for chocolate here as they would back home. The fools! (Note to family and friends: You’re getting keychains again.)

Besides tourist-trap chocolatiers, Bruges is world famous (throughout Bruges, that is) for its Belfort, bell tower, accessible by many, many winding stairs. It’s 270 feet up, all told, with a nice city view at the top. Equally impressive are the 47 bells, which weigh from 2 pounds to 11,000 pounds and total over 20 tons. The tower leans to the east by one meter and was built a long, long time ago, so, odds of it collapsing on a herd of tourists are pretty good. The bells are supported by thick wooden beams, themselves are hundreds of years old, so…you do the math.

This isn’t a Quasimodo operation: one poor guy up there yanking ropes or using a sledge hammer: it’s a carillon system, a little like old time piano rolls or music boxes. At one point, a man actually "played" the bells through a keyboard attached to pulleys, metal wires etc. It’s a computer operation now, but with the computer replacing only the keyboardist; the bells are still for real and striking them produces the music – really loud music if one happens to be up there during "Flight of the Bumblebee." Needless to say, it’s a wonder and well worth worming one’s way up the narrow staircase (while others worm their way down) with only a greasy rope as a handrail most of the way. (Wonder how long it’s been since someone spritzed Purell on that rope?) Some of the bells are impressively large, of course, but, for a lit major, the system of pulleys, levers and a million pieces of connecting equipment designed and put into use hundreds of years ago – for use, by the way, in a relatively small space dominated by (many) huge bells that, of course, could not be easily moved – both foreshadows the Machine Age and makes the awestruck observer wonder if computers are that great of an achievement. As "Dilbert" commented in a recent strip, modern consciousness is just fish plus time.

OK, enough about the Belfort. (Except - if you’re ever in Bruge - forget the chocolate; do the tower instead.) We moseyed on, content that, if we got lost, we could always find our way to the Market Square by looking for the Belfort, the tallest building in town. For lunch, we were cautioned away from the Market Square as too expensive, so found an Italian place on a smaller street. The Penne Arrabiatta was good and, unlike the Italian place you guys think is authentic, this place had a cook from Italy. Hell, Italy’s only a bus ride from here! From lunch, we were ambling aimlessly (I.e., looking for cheap chocolate) when we found a store selling Tibetan and Nepalese goods (all authentic, if the labels were). Those places are not a bus ride from here, so we passed some time looking at clothing we’d never wear again. Still, for 10€, don’t we need all-wool hats with tassels like the ones we got in Peru and never wear? Uh, not really.

A shame. We find a grocery and stock up. There’s something to be said about dining as a way to connect with local cultures, and Belgium doubtless has one. Two days, however, are not going to teach anyone how people here really live. (We do know they ride bicycles a lot, and eat cheese, and work in shops catering to tourists. Oh, and think Trump is nuts and that Americans are a much different – and worse – people than they imagined we were if we embrace this fool.)

Miles walked Tuesday: 7; miles walked Wednesday: 4. Hey, it’s a small, egg-shaped town!

Photos to come later. Scout's not feeling the love on photo-uploading. But yes, she took many and Bruges is lovely!

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