Bruges: drinking chocolate and eating beer...

"Don't go to Bruges," people would said when i told them where i was planning on getting to in Europe, "all there is to do is eat chocolate and drink beer."

wait... are you saying that's a BAD thing?

this is where i'm supposed to wax lyrical about Bruges. it's a small Belgian town you can walk across in half an hour... maybe more if you count the areas outside the moat. it's billed as a UNESCO-protected medieval town with charming streets and canals. what it is is a tourist village which is about as authentic as a Disney remake of a Hans Christian Andersson fairy tale. please note that i don't say this is specifically a bad thing. when you get past the instant reaction, Bruges is a lovely little place to kill a couple of days drinking some examples of the best-crafted beers on the planet. i've drunk a lot of beer in my time, across 5/7 of the inhabitable continents and i'm here to tell you that Belgian beer is the BEST... although i'm also prepared to recant this statement if necessary when i get to Germany.

oh, and the chocolate is fucking unreal, too.

and cheap. did i mention cheap?

you can cover off the main tourist attractions in half a day - it's what i did, with Danielle whom i met on the bus on the way in. go to the top of the bell tower in the Markt Square in the middle of town, then head off to see the Veneration of the Holy Blood (one of the churches claims to have a vial of Jesus' blood. it was a vial, it had dried-up brownish-red stuff in it... although i'd love to see a DNA comparison with the Shroud of Turin. you know... just for shits and giggles), bugger off to yet another church to see the Madonna and Child - the only Michaelangelo statue outside of Italy, walk past a canal or two and fetch up in the little pub with 200+ different beers behind the counter and see how many of them you can get through. there, see? throw in some Pommes Frittes et Mayonaisse and try out some of the chocolate (my recommendation: buy some of the broken-up blocks, take a massive bite and let it slowly melt in your mouth. it shut me up for a good 5 minutes... if you ignore the happy groaning) and you've done everything you need to do it Bruges. the rest of it is relaxation time.

seriously, i spent my second day going for a nice walk around the place taking photos and ignoring the tourist shops and spending almost no money - 5.50 Euros bought me over a kilo of spaghetti at a little cafe marked out on the tourist map (although the map failed to mention that this place had the Worst Service i'Ve Ever Seen, and i've been to Wong Kei's in London), and i worked through a 10 Euro Beer Card at the hostel. even my fucking hostel had incredible beer on hand. there doesn't seem to be any such thing as a bad Belgian beer. they must burn anyone who brews a poor batch at the stake or something.

my only little sin in Bruges was a visit to the local Heavy Metal Music shop, where i asked to hear any recommended Belgian or French metal, and would up walking away with a Belgian Punk album. the rest of it was just more rubber off the soles of my shoes and time spent sitting around the hostel's bar (the only place i could get a reliable net connection) chatting with Jess, the blonde Canadian who seemed to be hanging around a bit. she was pleasant enough company, and i wasn't looking for a new Best Friend or anything so she worked out well enough as someone to talk to.

i really needed the time to chill out though. it hit me hard on my second day there. i woke up feeling like crap, shifted my kit from one dorm to another and found myself sitting downstairs with breakfast trying to work up the motivation to do something other than lie around on my bunk all day. in the end i shamed myself into going exploring, but it was only 4 hours before i was back again, and i must have spent at least one of them reading my book while i waited for the rude waitress at he cafe to take my order (although once she did the food came quick), and another half standing in Metalzone listening to average-sounding music. i was, as they say, uninspired.

still, 2 days after arriving i'm back on the bus, this time to Amsterdam. my faithful travel-towel which has been with me since Egypt, on the other hand, didn't make it onto the bus. i left the bloody thing hanging up in Bruges after my shower this morning and didn't realise until i was climbing on the bus to go, so i guess i'm drying myself with a tshirt from now until i find a cheap replacement. oh well - these things happen on the road and if that's the worst thing i lose then i'll count myself lucky... wait... where's my external hard drive?

no, there it is. damn TARDIS shoulder-bag...