I'd like to say that I kept up with my blog for the entirety of my European trip, but alas with a lack of computer access and a house full to the brim with people, it just wasn't a good time.
Today, though, I am in Brugge (pronounced with a "br" and the olympic sport "luge" in English, or "Br-uh-huh" in any other language). A very romantic city in Belgium, full of beer, mussels, and chocolate. I can sit on my window sill 2 stories up and watch the world go by on the cobblestone street beneath me. I can pass on the alarm clock and let the clip-clop of horsefeet wake me up in the morning. I can enjoy a warm Belgium waffle as an afternoon snack (the time of day waffles were meant to be enjoyed according to the owner of this little hotel). The history of the city includes a canal, once a moat, that protected it from destruction during the war. Churches and buildings here date back to the 1400s. In America we can gush over a building built in the twentieth century.
Everyone here has a fancy scarf and a dog. No dog too big or too small to tote around on a leash through the city, even in and out of shops. No one seems to mind that dogs go everywhere with their people. My kind of city.
If there was ever a better time to be in Brugge, I couldn't name it.
Yes, and I grew up in Europe, where the history comes from. Oh, yeah. You tear your history down, man! “30 years old, let's smash it to the floor and put a car park here!" I have seen it in stories. I sawsomething in a program on something in Miami, and they were saying, "We've redecorated this building to how it looked over 50 years ago!" And people were going, "No, surely not, no. No one was alive then!"
ReplyDelete-Eddie Izzard