Belgium: Day 3

Last night, after stopping for hot chocolate, we walked along the shopping street and found a posh hotel that hadn't locked its WiFi (pitiful fools!). Hence, both Christian and I hijacked on and synced up our Pocket PCs. I briefly went into an art shop and when I came out, Christian was no where to be seen. As any wife would, I immediately feared that he had been kidnapped by gypsies, but he had actually ducked into the doorway of the hotel to escape the onslaught of rain we were hit with. We sent yesterdays blog entry to the site, then started walking back towards our hotel. It was raining very very hard and before long we were absolutely soaked through and very cold. Of course, I had forgotten our umbrella in our hotel earlier, after carrying it around all morning with no rain to speak of. By the time we got to the hotel, I was miserable. We hung the wet clothes up and I climbed into the bed. Superman I had just come on the TV, in English with Dutch subtitles, so we watched the whole thing.

After 2 hours, Christian dragged me out of the bed and made me get dressed. Whining constantly as we huddled under our umbrella, we found a restaurant near our hotel that had an awning up with an enormous space heater, so decided to eat there rather than venture further into town. Christian had a wheat beer with the most amazing Flemish beef stew. I thought the penne with 4 cheeses sounded like a light option, but instead it was 2 gallons of cheese with some pasta thrown in. My arteries screamed as I ate the whole thing; as it made an exceptional comfort food in the cold and wet. It was 10:30 when we crossed the lake back to our hotel.

This morning, wonder of wonders, the sun had shown its happy face. For the first time in days I donned a tank top and tevas, and, learning from experience the day before, we liberated a large french breadroll from breakfast for the ducks. We again crossed over the Lake of Love into town, having a completely different view of the town glistening in the sun. I had a blast feeding all the baby ducks that came running my way.

Afterwards, we walked towards the town Markt square, thinking it would be fun to take a carriage ride today, but the line was too darn long. Hence, we decided to go back to the abbey where there never seemed to be a line. We were about to learn there was a reason for that, since that was just a reststop for the horses. 3 days we've been here and never knew! So we dragged ourselves back to the Markt, all 15 minutes, and queued up for a horse and carriage. As I waited, I sent Christian to take pictures of the British Morris dancers entertaining in the square. There was a lovely group of British tourists on a cruise waiting in the queue as well, so we all talked and laughed together, which helped the hour go by much faster. Before we knew it, it was our turn, and we jumped in our carriage and Boy, our horse, and our driver took us on a lovely carriage-ride throughout the town. It was 30 euros for 35 minutes, but well worth it.

After that, we realized that it would be a good idea to replenish our cash supply, as we were down to our last 10 euros, however, none of the machines would take our cards, not even our credit card. As it turns out, the three ATMs in this Burg are all empty because its Sunday, so we used our last 10 euros for a pasta lunch, which we took with us back to the Lake of Love and ate happily along its sparkling banks.

After this, we walked the long way back to the Markt, where we decided to climb to the top of the Belfort, a high bell tower in the middle of the town. It is 366 steps to the top, and for 5 euros (each) you get the privilege of walking up all those itty bitty steps without aid. It is a winding stone staircase that has been there for hundreds of years, and it didn't seem too bad at first. But as you go up and up they cease to become stairs and become more like many tiny shelves for a glass managerie. Christians gigantic feet forced him to take each step sideways, but we made it to the top (finally) to a 360 degree view of Bruges. While I was taking a photo of Christian, the bell behind me struck half past, which made me squeal and jump 5 feet in the air, much to the amusement of the other climbers at the top of the tower. Luckily, Christian had had the forethought to put the camera strap around my neck.

Now, I sit atop a wall alongside the Abbey Lake. An accordianist plays cheerfully for spare change and a painter sells the last of his pictures of the Abbey bridge. The sun is still out and it has been a glorious last day. Tomorrow afternoon, we depart once again for home.

As I was putting my Ipaq and keyboard back in my bag, a lovely bride and her entourage walked by.

This is a wonderful place.