Bruges today- gone tomorrow.
Saturday 23rd
A fly in visit to Bruges starting with a manic start to the travel day from Paris as Alex’s phone decided to fail some more and not keep time. So our early start for the walk for the 6.07 train turned out to be not so early, meaning we had to trot (as we can’t run with backs) to the station. An odd smell trailing us round turned out to be Bex’s backpack straps damp from the rain during our stay meaning we travelled separately until the bus. Amazing ourselves at how early we managed to get to the bus meet point was quickly overshadowed by the struggle to get a coffee from the world’s dumbest hostel worker.
Pushing our luck on the accommodation list round the bus, requesting a campsite for 2 with free wifi and centrally placed, didn’t work so yet again we pulled into somewhere with nowhere to stay and the google search began. Success in the form of Camping Memling, as always bad directions and putting Bex in charge of navigating led to a long walk before being greeted by the ‘no vacancy’ sign. Thankfully our small tent allows us to pitch anywhere so we were let in.
Since it was such a short stay we splashed out on a canal tour, while eating our chocolate spoon lolly, and the tour guide trying many times to sell us property along the way. We feel he is an estate agent mon-fri, tapping into the tourist market on weekends.
Sunday 24th
Sunday morning was a sad moment when Alex woke Bex up to the news of Amy Winehouse’s death. The news had spread as quickly as the drugs through her system round the campsite then verified by an iPhone. Similar to when in Australia we learnt of MJ’s death we set the speakers up and played her album while mourning our morning away.
Mourning over and done with it was time to tourist the sights of Bruges including the chocolate Obama, Christ’s blood & drink the potent de Garre beer. Jaysus’ blood is kept watch over a priest in a basilica and surrounded by tourists – so quite hard to miss. We queued to touch it and copying the more religious folk ahead of us we touched it, smiled at the priest while saying a prayer and as donations were meant to reflect your belief we chucked 30 cents in the bowl. Alex’s prayer was very topical requesting we don’t die on the pilgrimage, signing off love Alex.
Moving on to de Garre Alley, to de Garre pub for a de Garre beer signalled the end to the rest of our touristing for the day when we started on the beer so potent they will only serve you 3 and networked the pub for future accommodation.
Firstly the local Belgians we shared a table with who despite the language barrier between us all we held a good conversation ending with a dinner invite and a place to stay.
Next up the Italians, who gave us their son’s address in Venice who we can stay with next month.
Then fellow Bus Abouters before the Canadians and their new Belgian friend who loved Queen.
The night ended in a fruitless search for the library bar before ending up drinking with a lads holiday group from Derby who after our night out with the Barnsley bikers we will visit on our return. After Alex noticed her jumper was not keeping her warm due to a whole seam ripped we trekked back to the campsite praying it wouldn’t rain – and given our conversation with Jesus earlier we felt this was completely reasonable.
Monday 25th
The next fly-in stop was a return to Amsterdam on our journey back to Berlin. The bus about rep, although possibly mentally unhinged greeting us with the phrase ‘I wouldn’t come near as I am sweating like a rapist’, was by far the best so far doing the safety speech in rap to the ‘fresh prince of Belair’ tune. We returned to Camping Zeeburg and it finally paid off to be on foot instead of a car as no cars were being accepted. Unfortunately the site housed the most active stoners ever who stayed up all night chanting and singing but somehow not passing out and going to bed.
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