Bruges to Brussels

The last morning in Bruges I had a task. My task was to find the Saturday market and report back whether it was worth a visit before we left town. The market was about a 10 minute walk away, up a street that was totally under construction, the better to bring in a bunch of new mall shops. I don't think there are any Starbucks there yet, though I may be wrong on that. But the other main street up to the market is lined with Tommy Hilfiger and Zara as well as snack shops.

Even on a Saturday morning in a light rain, the men were busy laying in yet more cobblestones. The street was pretty much deserted; one café was open. People do not get up early around here. The very good coffee shop across the street from the hotel doesn't open until 9. Can you imagine? I got up to the market around 8:45 and it was open and still setting up. I could smell it a block away. Dozens of chickens on rotisseries, meats, cheeses, charcuterie, baked goods, all beautiful. That was one half. The other half was slower to set up, and it included all kinds of clothing and household items, from mops and dish drainers to pants to "As seen on TV" miracle products.

It was nice enough, but hardly picturesque and not in any way rustic. Everything was in trailers, with all the requisite equipment. I knew there was a more locally oriented market nearby, so I followed the people and found a smaller square with smaller, less slick-looking stands, mostly with produce, but let's not ignore the live poultry section. Get it while it's fresh.

After due consideration, we decided to get to Brussels instead. The drive was incredibly easy, as was the car dropoff at one of the train stations downtown (I'd read horror stories about it but also stories that said it was simple). The cab driver didn't exactly know where the hotel was, but we got here okay. Then we headed out to visit the art museum.

I've been to a bunch of these older type museums, but this one was by far the most chaotic. They have combined 3 museums into one and have totally shuffled the curation as a result. It was incredibly hard to find anything, though we did eventually get to the paintings we wanted to see. We then wandered down the the Grand Place, of Grote Markt, depending on whether you're of the French or Flemish persuasion. Everything here is in 2 languages, although everyone I've interacted with speaks French. I can speak French just well enough to get myself in trouble. I guess my accent is good enough that people think I can really speak the language and am not just doing the best I can to be polite.

We had lunch down there and then walked around and bought some chocolates. The place was packed. It's a very large square (one might even call it 'grote') with some grand and beautiful buildings. One end is under renovation (we noticed that one of the buildings had been cleaned and re-gilted since our last visit) and over the scaffolding the have life-size pictures of the buildings. On the ground floor? Starbucks.

The walk back was a chore. It's uphill the whole way and it was windy and slightly rainy out. We got back to the hotel just before it started to pour. It's cleared up now and we'll be going out for the evening sometime soon.