Arabesque Bed and Breakfast
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TripAdvisor Reviews Arabesque Bed and Breakfast Brugge
Travel Blogs from Brugge
... should really toughen up.
Lake of Love: Yeah, there were some swans, some water. Nothing to rave about really.
Herberg Vlissinghe: Dylan found a bar on the map that is the oldest bar in Bruges. This year they are celebrating 500 years. So we had a drink there, as you do!
Shoe scrapers: I noticed holes in the wall near the front door of houses with a piece of metal attached. I suggested to Dylan that these were for ...
... take a lot).
As we headed out for the evening, we decided to do Walking Tour #2, of course it is a bit dark so a bit more of a challenge. While we were following the course, we weren't really following the narrative as it was just to dark to see the book. So we just wandered in the general direction of where we were supposed to be.
Luckily, it took us by more pretty scenes and we happened on a very ...
... lining is starting to feel a little damp, and I remember that the clerk only promised me rain-resistant, not rain-proof. I begin to envy the tourists who walk underneath wide, sheltering, golf-style umbrellas, and ask Lorne how much farther we have to go.
We duck under a restaurant canopy, its outdoor tables deserted. "It has to be around here somewhere," he says, ...
... city artifacts. Disappointed, we continued on down the lane and were pleased to see that the windmills were still where the book said they'd be. It simply wouldn't do to come to the Low Countries and not see a windmill.
A little more walking, a spot of dinner, and we just caught the train back to Brussels. While I'm sure we'd have found plenty to do with another day in Brugge, I think the amount of time we had was pretty spot on.
... Megan got seared tuna topped with a salsa-esque sauce and served with ratatouille. And because all of that wasn't enough, we decided to order their endless chocolate mousse. As hard as we tried we couldn't quite finish the heaping pile of mousse that was our first serving. Finally, to end the evening, our waiter shared shots of a melon liqueur with us when he found out it was our last evening in Paris. We rolled ourselves to the Metro for our ride back to the hotel for the ...