Today, Wed 8/30, was another wonderful day in Bruges!
We had another breakfast at our hotel. It had nearly the same offerings as the day before, but those offerings are so great that we were as pleased as before. This time, we sat and ate in the downstairs room, a finished cellar with white plaster walls. This room was probably a dirty, musty place for most of the hotel’s history, and now it’s this fancy spot that tourists pay to eat in.
It occurred to Dan that American hotel breakfasts have always been pretty modest, but the self-serve waffle maker is practically the only major innovation in the decades. But somehow in this, the land of waffles, the waffle maker hasn’t appeared. I suppose that those homemade waffles would be a disgraceful imitation for true Belgian waffle connoisseurs.
We left for the big event of the day: riding bikes. Bruges brands itself the “City of Bikes”, although their “City of Bikes” gear was sold right next to “Brussels: the City of Bikes” merch. Come to think of it, Portland is also the City of Bikes. Hmm. We’d researched a few rental places and found everything close by to be lacking, so we left on foot to go to Ben’s Bike Rentals on the other side of the old town. We walked there, which took all of 15 minutes, even with some sight-seeing.
Even just walking down this street, we’d see these incredible construction dates on basic buildings: 1644?! 1711?!!
We saw our “modest” neighborhood church, Saint Jacob, from a new angle and in a literal new light. Glorious! There’s an attach convent in the foreground.
The walk took us by some amazing canals, bridges and canal-front houses.
As if these canals and bridges weren’t picturesque enough, swans were frolicking and feeding right in front of us!
Gorgeous views like this are almost impossible to escape in this fantastic town. Somehow, only a few houses have dormers that would capture the view for themselves but spoil it for others.
Incredibly, only a few houses like this one really capitalized on the canal-front side of their property. Many others were disappointingly overgrown and unattended.
Ben’s bike rentals was a pleasant and utilitarian place in the basement of a “bike parking” lot that we’d passed on our first walk through town. Ben’s does rentals of newer bikes at the front counter , service for customers and their rental fleet in the rear and sales of their retired rentals out in front of the store. Very clever operation.
We rented two e-bikes in a lightning fast transaction: they scanned my passport electronically as ID , we paid by tapping a card, and there was absolutely no signed rental agreement or waiver like there would be in the US. Truly, it is a different world here, probably a better world.
Another notable difference is that bike locks here are a much simpler, lightweight affair. No bothering with cables or chains or even a post to lock your bike to. Instead, there’s a tiny gadget on the rear wheel that immobilizes the bike with the turn of a (removable) key. So much more convenient, though it wouldn’t be enough to discourage Portland’s caliber of bike thief. It truly is a different world where that level of security is just not worth the effort!.
We rode off on a great bike-friendly route through a few streets and then through some parks along the canals at the edge of the old town. As we got away from the tourist centers, the crowds thinned out, a few more locals appeared, walking their babies or jogging on their hometown’s wonderful scenery.
The bike path passes by most of the 5 remaining city gates, massive affairs like this
Also, it passes by the 4 remaining windmills. None were functioning but they’re still impressive none the less and in great condition. They’re all on the tops of these (presumably artificial) hills.
Here’s another with Stef for scale.
We stopped in Saint Anna neighborhood, slightly but not quite outside the touristic old town. We’d planned to go to a Folklore museum with recreations of homes in a few periods in history, but it didn’t make the cut. Instead, we made a beeline for lunch (though, honestly, it was for the bathrooms), but, to our dismay, restaurant after restaurant after restaurant was closed in defiance of the hours posted in Google Maps. The first place that checked all the boxes was this surprising Himalayan restaurant.
Great overall, but such a jumble of Asian influences. We got momos because we love(d) them from a Himalayan cart in Portland. Those ones are steamed dumplings with a delicious mix of mostly fresh and crunchy veggies like celery and potato. The momos here were instead fried and stuffed with a curry potato and pea that we’d expect in Indian samosas. Also, lumpia that were closer to Chinese eggs rolls. Then, a ‘”curry” with paneer cheese and bell pepper and onion and a sweet gravy that tasted like Thai pad kee mao. Great, but completely foreign, which is the quintessential travel experience.
Over lunch, we decided to put our e-bike rental to use and ride out to Damme, a nearby village. Ben from the bike described how easy it was to ride was, and Dan had researched it enough to see that it was a nice less-developed area, mostly nice houses and corn fields and horse pastures. Since this was our one and only chance to see the Belgian countryside up close, we went for it. There were a few hard crossings of big streets, and then we were out of Bruges entirely.
Soon, the bike path split off from the road together. All of the stress of biking immediately evaporated: We were nearly alone as we rode this clean, car-free, perfectly-paved, perfectly straight, level path. The path follows an artificial canal connecting the towns. Both sides are lined with a double row of perfectly uniform trees, over 100 feet tall, that reach as far as you can see. The sun filtered through the leaves as a gentle breeze made them rustle gently and drown out the fading noise from the city. Truly, this was a magical moment.
And then we arrived in Damme. It’s a tiny, quaint village where about 5 country roads meet.
We got coffee at a restaurant named Tante Marie. Indoors, it had a Iively social scene with every table filled by the town’s older residents. Instead, we found a quiet patio in rear. There, we had a raspberry macaron (with exceptional raspberries for late August) and a great coffee; like all great coffees in Belgium, this one came with a bonus: this time, a little cup of chocolate mousse!
Damme had two great churches, one smaller and active-looking one in the center of town and a much larger cathedral down the road. We stopped there and appreciated the grounds and especially the small town’s cemetery.
Panoramic shot of the beautiful interior and its eclectic construction materials
Rather unsurprisingly, the gravestones showed many people named Van Damme, like 80’s action star Jean Claude Van Damme from Belgium!
We rode home. When we had to ride on the unfamiliar streets alongside cars and mysterious traffic signs and construction, the ride was much more stressful than the idyllic paths in the country.
We walked to Burg Square to mail postcards, then returned the bikes to Ben’s. On leaving, we walked the fancy street named ‘t Zand looking for food among the many near-identical bistros with outdoor seating. We finally chose one named le Singe d’Or. We started seated outdoors looking at passersby and a nice open plaza. We got two amazing non-alcoholic beers, better than anything we’ve found in the US.
Over the course of a few minutes, the skies darkened, thunder started rolling in from the coast, and, before we knew it, the downpour began– first heavy and then unbelievable! Everyone scattered from the streets as our poor servers scrambled to save everything from the rain.
We quickly resettled indoors, cozy and safe from the rain to enjoy the rest of our meal: more flemish beef stew, a baguette sandwich with gouda, and of course frites.
We walked home after the rain subsided, passing the incredible exterior of San Salvatore cathedral that I’d insist on seeing the next day. We’d come to know the city’s layout well enough by now, but at night we were navigating by the beautifully illuminated church and bell towers. Strange to think that these glorious churches were hidden in blackness every night for centuries… at least until this kind of lighting became possible in the mid 1850s. How different the city must have looked at night before then.
With that, tired and well fed, we slept at last.
Lucky you to have such a lovely excursion BEFORE the rain. On one trip to Southern France, we became aware that most of our fellow “chambres d’hote” guests were Belgian. And finally asked couple of them why the south of France was so popular.. The answer was “en Belge, il pleut, il pleut, il pleut”. So you are literally soaking up the ambience.