Ridderspoor Holiday Flats
No availability found through our partners. Please contact the business directly or check some of our recommended alternatives.
How has this condo rated in the past?
TripAdvisor Reviews Ridderspoor Holiday Flats Brugge
Travel Blogs from Brugge
... talking with the barrista and she was very passionate about her coffee. She explained that some of the older residents have come and tried the coffee, hated it and never come back. But she was ok with that - her dream is to inspire the younger crowd to experience new coffee flavours and styles. In a city steeped with tradition, it is nice to see someone chasing their dreams with passion! Especially ...
... view mirror and made our way to Flanders Fields, site of some of the deadliest battles of World War I. We visited the town of Ypres, which is the location of the In Flanders Fields Museum. The town itself is quite nice, apparently completely rebuilt since WWI. We learned, as we toured the museum, that the entire are had been reduced to a wasteland. There were no more buildings, not even a tree. One of the soldiers commented that it was as barren ...
... then caught a bus into the Centrum of Belgium. It is a city dating back to the 9th Century. Amazing! All cobblestone streets and old, old buildings. We just love the buildings here. It's 10pm right now and it's still day light! Anyway, it's time for bed. We cant wait to go back and explore tomorrow.
Denice & Ruby
Our train arrived in Brugge at about 5 pm. Brugge is not quite large enough to have a very good public transit system we quickly found out. In fact, they offer only buses. I looked up which bus to take, but as it turned out, this bus wasn't running all the way to our hotel, due to construction. So we attempted to walk... to make a long story short, we ended up walking in total darkness for three hours. ...
... floor filled, it was impossible to avoid her gyrations and gesticulations. Dylan appeared unperturbed by such actions. Whilst the brief possibility of a three way knees up flitted across my intoxicated mind, so did the far more realistic notion of being hung, drawn, and quartered on one of the many crucifixes across town by Dylan and his entourage should I dare respond in the meagrest of manners to the flouting Flemish femme fatale before me.