Brugge Hotels
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Waffles, yanks, and an early night
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I woke up this morning on a mattress on the hostel lawn looking directly up at a fairly sunny Belgian sky, feeling substantially hungover as a result of last night's wild times. But i certainly wasn't alone, as the rest of the Aus-yank contingent gripped their respective foreheads and grimaced at the preponderence of natural light hitting us with mocking force. Nonetheless, last night remained one of the best nights of the trip, and certainly one of the more memorable.
With Big Kev, Erin and Krystal, and the contingent of yanks, we picked up our heads together from the floor, then hit the metro for a belgian waffle mission. The skies suddenly opened up, and rain poured like a barman on amphetamine, but we soldiered on in the twisted weather, through the main drags of Brussels, eventually arriving in the main town square to a core of cafes serving warm, crispy belgian waffles. Served by a fruity, slightly nutty Belgian dude who looked like the short fella from 'Allo Allo', with a thin moustache and receeding hairline, we chaotically received our order, and wolfed down the waffley goodness, bringing most of our heath levels up by at least 30%. With rain still dripping down pretty solidly, most of the chicks split with the rest of the group and went on a shopping mission, while the rest of us kept trundling around town, briefly checking out a local ornate church, which was a big of a non-event for me considering how many bloody churches i've seen over the last three and a half months. Rev, Brooks and i made a pact back in Rome after witnessing the glorious magnitude of the Vatican to not bother visiting any more churches, as any other church was bound to be pretty anti-climactic.
Anyway, the team that was 'Random Aus-yanks' had come to its untimely end come arvo, as Big Kev and i split with Davey, Megan the Chicagoan, and Parisa, Big Kev heading forth on to Amsterdam, and me heading on a brief day trip to the gorgeous nearby medieval town of Brugge. They say that Brugge is known for its superior chocolate and pralines, and despite its reputation for rampant tourism, it's still a fine place to check out. Seemed like a good plan.
The beauty of travelling by train in Belgium on a weekend is that all fares are half price, a factor that appeased my dwindling budget considerably. leapt on a 2pm train and got to rugge about 45 minutes later, the sun once again making its presence known and drenching the town in golden warmth. Brugge was pretty damn nice - a warm, cosy, busy little town, with guaranteed tourists everywhere and cafe-restaurants brimming with afternoon boozers. Dudes in tight pants rode bikes everywhere, and in my semi-hungover daze i nearly got run over by one hairy disgruntled Belgian cyclist after walking along the non-sign-posted bike lane. The buildings were regal and pointy roofed, the lanes and roads were cobblestoned out the kyber, you know, the usual stuff you'd expect from a small, attractive medieval Belgian town. I spent a good couple of hours hoofing it around Brugge, but found the place to be a tad boring, and pretty much hit the rail back to Brussels at around 5ish. I was still considerably knackered from last nights frivolity, and really just needed to get back to the hostel, chill out and go to bed early.
Killed some time at the hostel chatting with me mates Krystal and Parisa, and tucked into a couple of nightcap beverages at the plush Van Gogh hostel bar. I tried two strange beers called 'Framboise', which tasted as fruity as buggery and caused me to display a cats bum face when i sipped them. One was cherry beer and the other was just straight fruit i think, but they also had a banana variety which probably would have put me off beer forever. Crazy bloody Belgians. Anyway, after downing a cheap kebab from the Turkish dive around the corner, i again witnessed the horrible bloodshed on the Al-Jazeera program on the restaurant's tv. With a boozy, hazy mind, it was time to go to schleep once and for all and get some real winks, before i trundled on my merry way tomorrow to the Netherlands. Had a chat to a random bird in my dorm from Uruguay, and a straight bespectacled German fella, before dozing off in my bottom bunk, with a cool, stormy change flowing through the open hostel windows, blowing the curtains up and down with vigour. It was pinnacle cosiness. I cant say no to a good storm, especially when im in bed and but a short wink away from a seriously deep sleep.
Belgium has treated me well, and tomorrow, the adventure would continue some short distance north to the amazing Netherlands. Let the good times roll.
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| 102. | Waffles, yanks, and an early night - Brugge, Belgium Jul 22, 2006 |
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