Brussels, Bruge, and back.
Jun. 24th, 2003 09:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
learnteachSo, after the two meals and a little wandering, and given that we started at around 1, it was 5. We set off to get back to the car, and Fearless sensitive one, who is also impatient, led everyone else in the completely wrong direction while I was doing a mapcheck because it's better to move than think and she knew where she was going (well, within 180 degrees, pretty much, yah.) She was pissy when we went the other direction.
I will never travel with her again.
Saw the Manniken pis, and the statue that gets rubbed for luck. Remember that.
So, what with one thing and another, it was almost 5 when we got back to the car. I've rubbed a lot of the skin off the shins where the top of the boots hit, as I didn't wear new socks because I didn't think I needed them. We get to the car, and I say turn right, and she says what about left, and I reply all directions will eventually get us there, so she turns left.
...well, eventually all roads lead to Rome, and then you can find your way home.
Scrambled a bit and found a connector that worked out.
Many more cows. Cows with spots from the deck of cards. Rastifaricows. Cows with grass growing on them. Mandlecows. Chaos cows. Beaded cows. And a cow being carried off by a dragon. Wow.
Made it home, changed socks, read my Tin Tin (bought some to figure out who Rastipopolous is, which is what the Finns have nicknamed me). Two party members were planning to go to Bruges, and asked if I wanted to come. I pouted a little, then sat in the biff and relaxed, and decided to go. We ended up being four, so I was stuffed in the back of a BMW 318 (tight fit) and away we go.
Perfect evening. Sunny/partially cloudy, warm breezes. J** the driver has been local for 8 months and drives like one, so we got there quickly. No whining. I dozed in the back, and read the guidebook (outloud) when not dozing. Hey! A pub called the hobbit! Remember that.
We were about 5 miles out of Bruge when we saw this really cool brick building--quite large. Went and toured around it, taking pictures, until we realized that it was the local police AND state police station and skedaddled. Went into Bruges, wandered in the car for parking, found a spot...
and walked into the fish market. Now, the guidebook (Rick Steven's, which are good books) recommends a walk starting from the city center. This gives you the big things first, in case you can't walk very far. We were at about place 12 on the walk, and so, we walked from a fish market that had been there since, oh, 1560, to a canal, to the back of the town hall, with gilded figures, to the FRONT of the town hall, with amazing carving, to the 12 century church, then into the other square where the bell tower was about to give a carillion concert.
Wow. Tunes. So, grabbed some pommes at a stand in front of the church (excellent, but avoid the Sauce Americain, it's got too much dried pepper in it) and listened to the concert for half an hour. After every piece the performer would come to the window and wave to acknowledge the applause--he was about 120 ft. up. The pomme shop had a picture of the mannikin pis which I translated, and it basically said: "You're not in Brussels any more, if you're a wild pisser we'll charge you 52 euro for showing it and 100 euro clean up on the public space, so find a toilet, is it really worth that much to you?" Funny.
It was 9:30, and the color was fading out of the sky, so we walked on. The concert continued until about 10, and you could here it everywhere in the old town. Walked around and it was very cool...
Going to short mode, computer desired. Church. Antique shop. Striderhouse, and the beer special is "Mad bitch". Beer with 12% alcohol, woo. St. Bernard's, the last ale actually brewed by monks. Heading home, meeting a brit while taking a picture...
and off to the packing.
I will never travel with her again.
Saw the Manniken pis, and the statue that gets rubbed for luck. Remember that.
So, what with one thing and another, it was almost 5 when we got back to the car. I've rubbed a lot of the skin off the shins where the top of the boots hit, as I didn't wear new socks because I didn't think I needed them. We get to the car, and I say turn right, and she says what about left, and I reply all directions will eventually get us there, so she turns left.
...well, eventually all roads lead to Rome, and then you can find your way home.
Scrambled a bit and found a connector that worked out.
Many more cows. Cows with spots from the deck of cards. Rastifaricows. Cows with grass growing on them. Mandlecows. Chaos cows. Beaded cows. And a cow being carried off by a dragon. Wow.
Made it home, changed socks, read my Tin Tin (bought some to figure out who Rastipopolous is, which is what the Finns have nicknamed me). Two party members were planning to go to Bruges, and asked if I wanted to come. I pouted a little, then sat in the biff and relaxed, and decided to go. We ended up being four, so I was stuffed in the back of a BMW 318 (tight fit) and away we go.
Perfect evening. Sunny/partially cloudy, warm breezes. J** the driver has been local for 8 months and drives like one, so we got there quickly. No whining. I dozed in the back, and read the guidebook (outloud) when not dozing. Hey! A pub called the hobbit! Remember that.
We were about 5 miles out of Bruge when we saw this really cool brick building--quite large. Went and toured around it, taking pictures, until we realized that it was the local police AND state police station and skedaddled. Went into Bruges, wandered in the car for parking, found a spot...
and walked into the fish market. Now, the guidebook (Rick Steven's, which are good books) recommends a walk starting from the city center. This gives you the big things first, in case you can't walk very far. We were at about place 12 on the walk, and so, we walked from a fish market that had been there since, oh, 1560, to a canal, to the back of the town hall, with gilded figures, to the FRONT of the town hall, with amazing carving, to the 12 century church, then into the other square where the bell tower was about to give a carillion concert.
Wow. Tunes. So, grabbed some pommes at a stand in front of the church (excellent, but avoid the Sauce Americain, it's got too much dried pepper in it) and listened to the concert for half an hour. After every piece the performer would come to the window and wave to acknowledge the applause--he was about 120 ft. up. The pomme shop had a picture of the mannikin pis which I translated, and it basically said: "You're not in Brussels any more, if you're a wild pisser we'll charge you 52 euro for showing it and 100 euro clean up on the public space, so find a toilet, is it really worth that much to you?" Funny.
It was 9:30, and the color was fading out of the sky, so we walked on. The concert continued until about 10, and you could here it everywhere in the old town. Walked around and it was very cool...
Going to short mode, computer desired. Church. Antique shop. Striderhouse, and the beer special is "Mad bitch". Beer with 12% alcohol, woo. St. Bernard's, the last ale actually brewed by monks. Heading home, meeting a brit while taking a picture...
and off to the packing.
