Brugge

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Trip Start Sep 19, 2007 Previous
Entry Trip End Dec 01, 2007

  Bruges, Belgium
Monday, November 26, 2007

We are almost home. This will probably be the last entry. I will save you all from my final thoughts and sweeping conclusions about the continent. For those, you can approach me in person. Instead I'll just give you some quick updates of how we've been doing since we left the Swedes to their meatballs and progressive thinking. Mirabel took her first steps a few days ago in The Hague. They were actually shuffles to the side, but she spent her first few months watching basketball with me, so I assumed she was just playing tough D.
I believe we were in Hamburg for a day, or maybe 2/3rds of a day or something like that. We enjoyed Amsterdam, although not the way it is currently designed to be enjoyed. Upon arrival we were informed that our hotel was a "smoking" hotel, and I couldn't help but giggle when the "concierge" slowly explained to us how to unlock the door (my difficulties refraining from giggling may also have been to the thicker than usual air.) We also went around the Netherlands a bit, and now we're doing the same in Belgium. I'm writing from Bruges right now, in a bar, with an Abbe Leffe at my side. Earlier I bought a cherry flavoured beer from the grocery store, only to find out it came with a cork. The only thing my penknife doesn't have is a cork screw, so I went away trying to pry it out with the nail file. I patiently worked away at this cork, my eye closely examining my progress...you can see where I'm going with this. Fortunately, the cork zipped past my ear, allowing me to return home with both eyes, just like you all remember. Anyway, I may retire the penknife when I get home. I probably shouldn't be drinking cherry flavoured beer anyway, it's not very manly (but I think masculinity died in Belgium sometime in the Middle Ages*).
I just want to finish by saying that I can't wait to go home. We did a rough count the other day and at that point we had slept in 25 different beds. Mirabel still likes to sleep closer to me, usually with her head spearing my back. Or, sometimes I find her sleeping on my throat. Try sleeping anything on your throat, it's impossible. Alright, that's it from us, in Europe.

Tim

*To further my point here, I was in a musuem today to look at some of the Flemish Primitives, and there was depictions of people being flayed alive, beheadings, men on horseback. A few centuries later, they were painting about lovely days at the fair and walking through meadows.

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