Two years Brugge was the cultural capital of Europe. Still it is a medieval borough where you can a boat excursion concerning the choruses, the so-called grachten prove and you can the town hall from the 15de centuries, the Begijnhof and the market with the belfort visit. But you can do things also other. It is Sunday morning. Sheer blue air. We have to sense something nice will do, to a city ofzo. To Antwerp, Paris and Düsseldorf we have already more often been, but to brugge never. I not at least. However, it stands for a long time on my verlanglijstje. My father and mother have been executed far in on traveltravel travel are, but at me it had never come on the a or other manner of. And that whereas I hotels in brugge have booked a lot in the time that I worked at NBBS. Especially one hotel was very geliefd, but how was called that also already? In spite of that the morning already almost beyond is, decisions we nevertheless put rate to the south.

Travel goes smoothly. Only very just as we see to something that on a traffic-jam seem, somewhere off the borden Knokke and oostende (also belgians go on Sunday to the coast), but further absolutely no oponthoud. By the time that I pile up illustrated magazines from have, is we there. For the quarter concerning two we stand in the middle of medieval brugge. Brugge stands confessed as a sweet borough what it proves be indeed also. However, it is larger than I had thought; less popperig, but attractive. There its numerous shops and of course a lot of tentjes what to eat or drinks. But straatjes also enough where it is still really Sunday. The sun makes the cold January day to celebrates. With a crackling hearth vuurtje in our back we drink a much too expensive espresso in a restaurant on the market.

Beside our two Flemish ladies concerning a large pan mussels sit bent. Rings glow to their slim hands. Under the genot of a glass white wine they whisper each other the last nieuwtjes. In the meantime we astonish ourselves as two Dutchmen concerning the prices: potje tea 3.50 euro, cappuccino 4 euro, glass wine 5 euro. But everyone does not make itself there very for, because has been much tafeltjes occupied. Jawel, here in brugge one love well living; there geluncht is extended. Flemish frieten we leave the Burgundian sfeertje and go on path. Ten minutes still no later we yield already to a heuse portie Flemish frieten. The belgian in the green keetje dumps a considerable stopper mayonaise. There the poor frietjes drown hurries itself in. ` help, I suffocate! I hear call them almost. But it smells and tastes well, and the versgebakken sweet potatoes heat our hands. Beside the kraampje a large block-system ice, a vestige of the ice sculpture festival stand which is kept here. Children touch the ice carefully with the topjes of their fingers and leave then giggling separately. Doorkijkje If we stand exactly with our fat mayonaisevingers on beautiful plekje, a Spanish guy asks us to take a photograph of him and his woman.

The woman is ready already in its white winter coat turned off with nepbont. The man hands over its digital camera us; ordinary toestellen to see your haste no longer. As if I am the some that that art still has and which still patience has to wait goodly a couple days for developing and printing. Slightly does not fall beautiful, but the spanjaard is contento. In the meantime question I me still finished how that leuke hotelletje were called nou and if my father and mother have stood here former also this way together. Horse and carriage it is not even this way busy in brugge. Her and of the stand what explains groups omhoog tourists to look at as their guide something. Others guards for their part for a rondvaart concerning the grachten. People stroll what, paartjes run hand in hand and enjoying the winter sun. A jogger runs beyond. Birds flutes and ducks chatter. Klm-zwanen and large geese swim in cold water around as if spring has come already.

But in the small boats the tourists stand in the cold. Water wrinkles to the bank. The old houses reflect bubbled in. As from the ` choruses brugge seems be very worth it, but that does we a time if it something is warmer. To return we simply still keertje. Also for a town excursion by horse and carriage is nevertheless best, however, cold. With geblokt dekentje concerning their legs tourists bump beyond. Tourist, but secretly perhaps nevertheless nice. The alternative, the modern yellow busjes, leaves we for what them to be; we will run nicely. We stray what, without card or travel guide. Simply but look at where we end up. By parks and narrow straatjes, along old houses and bruggetjes concerning water. Many leuke doorkijkjes and delicious quiet lanes.

Unequally located kinderhoofdjes and in the sun gleaming keitjes introduce our further and further it old brugge. Straffe hendrik ` here must sit straffe hendrik somewhere. ` who? I ask astonished. ` straffe hendrik. There I previous time has also been. A beer brewery. We stand on the zoveelste sweet small square. My friend dives into a lane. We are at brewery the half maan, the brewery of the straffe hendrik. Although I a more is wijndrinker, I want try such a Bruges hendrik sometimes. We take the large but nevertheless sfeervolle space and drink a traditional dark biertje, neatly in a large kelk on a stalk. A child crawls concerning the ground, a dog erachteraan, and then the other way around. Above our shine empty bierflesjes from all wind regions. Van Leffe to palm and from Bintang to Singha. A nice, such straffe hendrik. ` This bear full or flavour are – its almost a roller-coasterroller-coaster roller-coaster sniffing for your piled up buds! I read Internet site later on an English-speaking person. Fairy-like Outside roams we further by the old centre. The fragrance of waffles fills air. We look at hoekje and see a type small estate, but larger than you would think. The boasted Begijnhof. Witgeschilderde live for a large lawn gone. ` do not enter stand there in several languages on a placard in the grass. High trees tend all to the same side as if they stand eavesdrop on someone. Or does the wind in brugge always blow but squares one? ` Stilte-Silence communicate the placards on the white walls. It is almost celestial quiet in the small estate. A woman in traditional attire shuffles deeply bowed beyond. Leaning on its stick she mumbles something unintelligible. We run one and a half rondje and leave the small estate on the other hand, at the Minnewater. Romantic plekje for the zoveelste Sunday winterzoen. If the sun air colours splendid paarsroze and the houses on the market a fairy-like gloed gets, it becomes fresh considerable and decides we our zoeken heil somewhere. Koetsjes disappear, the lichtjes contract. Sociably small grillrestaurantje do persuade our almost to, but enter because the stopper mayonaise of is vanmiddag not yet digested, to decisions we strike as it quietly. Firstly what drinks. beerbeer beer ` Taverna curiosa stand on a sign in the Vlamingstraat. We dive into 16de the eeuwse cellar. Here, in the witgeklakte grotachtige space with arcs and nisjes and with stones on the floor, they give beer to fifty seem types.

We seat oneself to houten tafeltje. A bord with photograph to the wall recommends ` Kwak-bier. Although the name does not promise much good, the couple-low sees in which hangs the glass, however, very kunstig. Whereas I a glass drinks red wine, my friend enjoys its particular biertje. The glass sees to the upper part as a funnel and has further much gone of a type reageerbuis with a convex lower part, such as Willie carrot ` m. would be possible will have invented; or this way one where narrow heksendrankjes in must be made. For this reason the glass cannot stand and hangs in houten a standard with a breach. Carefully the woman pours the Belgian beer in the strangely formed glass of the huizes. The flask puts them there netjes near. We get still nice appetizer also. ` mussels stand on a bord above my head. For the first time today. The ` sit see r still in the month, thus you them everywhere. My friend orders a day menu with soup and vleesragout. I indicate to the bord above me. ` Sorry, madame, no, which do not hear bord here, say the woman. She excuses himself and had hoped that the nobody would see bord. Only as from our tafeltje it is visible and calculated we want mussels. ` Eh… Hè, I had net such a sense. Them me reflects the card and disappears. I look at once more quiet. ` a fish stew with covered with breadcrumbs cheese, decides I satisfied if she is just as later. T

he woman draws a grimas and excuses herself: ` no, which also not. Look, we go on leave tomorrow, she explains. Ietwat disappointed lettuce I again the card open. ` do you then but the day soup and afterwards the voorgerecht of gamba’s in lookboter. Also nice. The relief is read of its face. She looks at as if I have guessed a figure well. ` yes! Those we have, and rapidly seizes them the menu card of table says them as if she is frightened that we order nevertheless still something else what she does not have. After the surprisingly tasteful flower cabbage soup ` vleesstoverij get my friend have been served up and I my four large shrimps in warm badje of oil and kruiden. It tastes very well. If we leave the cellar have and above Belgian level to be, we let us look forward to a poster of an action of Kodo Japan. According to my friend móeten we there naartoe. That it is Sunday evening and we also still simply must to The Hague do not seem interest him. That Kodo not typical Bruges is already not at all does. ` where it is? he says whereas he examines the poster briefly. `, read the concert bldg. I. ` but then can hurry up we. After we have asked the way to a Belgian passant for the concert bldg., we considerably the just, fear let us turn off that it has perhaps already started. I want here gone?, question I me in the meantime finished. ` Heartbeat drummers from Japan. Nou yes, firstly look at if we can find. And perhaps I come underway that hotelletje still. We race walking along the Hema, along Zara, the Bodyshop and along other chains which you see at us also. At the called square arrived we see large modern terracottakleurig bldg. that thirty years suffered there were not yet certain.

It can go well for concert bldg. by, but it seems within entirely dark. We run around, along a bushalte and concerning gratings on a griezelig dark bit area and resist then where we started were. Dense. ` were it, however, in the concert bldg.? my friend asks. All of a sudden weet I it no longer this way certain. We run to the gatekeeper of the car park there compared with and questions or he there perhaps more of weet. He looks at us what arrives laboriously, but after tijdje his colleague with the programme notebook to incite. He shakes his head. Kodo do not stand. Perhaps is it, however, in… he refers our to a another bldg..

I have not understood but my friend is the door already. With ferme just we run by cold Bruges evening air. Suddenly keeping we halt if we weerzien exact at the same time a poster. I squeeze together my eyes to be able read it. ` o, brings out februaaaari we in chancel. ` then nevertheless return we here next month, decide he. For him lies everything beside the door. To drive finds deliciously he, it cannot be far enough. From nothing me shoots all of a sudden the name of the hotel which I booked for NBBS always at. `’t Koffieboontje! I call. ` what? ` that we must return here once more.

Story by: Denise Miltenburg