My dear friend (and guru to the stars) Cathy holds much importance in the power of the labyrinth. She believes, and has taught me, that meditating upon one one can bring one a centering, tranquil peace.
Did I mention that Bruges, Belgium kind of looks like a labyrinth? Looky here:
(click to enlarge on the civil engineering, one-way- street-rich madness that is the City of Bruges)See how in this labyrinth, all the juicy bits are in the middle?
Therein lies both the genius and the anguish.
It will make grown men weep, trying to negotiate their way into the nougat center. And it will make women wish they had an iron-clad guarantee that, should they throw themselves from a moving vehicle, they would only suffer slight abrasions & contusions.
The only meditating I did as we drove around this maze for an hour and a half was how I could possibly slit my husband's throat (and then my own, of course!) with the maps in order to end the suffering.
Insults were flying - mine snidely remarking on the vanishing of his almost always-present sense of direction, his snapping because I was unable to simultaneously co-ordinate the local city map, the English Google Map, and the non-existent Flemish streets signs (all of which have at least 20 vowels and a minimum of 2 consenents - it's the law).
I do not know Flemish.
And having been phlegmish on occassion? Not the same thing.
Obviously.
However, despite our bickering, we finally made it to the gooey, yummy center of the old city, to our delicious hotel, Relais Bourgondisch Cruyce (which I learned about from the movie "In Bruges"), where they gave us the key to their magic kingdom:
(Much prettier than the normal card, and MUCH harder to steal. Quite bulky)
And, to quote Ralph Fiennes' character Harry in the movie, it was like a fairy tale. A f**king fairy tale.
Imagine, if you will, that one of those little snowy ceramic Christmas villages somehow is made to real-life scale. This is Bruges.
It is just one of the most medieval, exquisite, picturesque places I have ever been to. Each building top has its own uniqueness, like this:
Therein lies both the genius and the anguish.
It will make grown men weep, trying to negotiate their way into the nougat center. And it will make women wish they had an iron-clad guarantee that, should they throw themselves from a moving vehicle, they would only suffer slight abrasions & contusions.
The only meditating I did as we drove around this maze for an hour and a half was how I could possibly slit my husband's throat (and then my own, of course!) with the maps in order to end the suffering.
Insults were flying - mine snidely remarking on the vanishing of his almost always-present sense of direction, his snapping because I was unable to simultaneously co-ordinate the local city map, the English Google Map, and the non-existent Flemish streets signs (all of which have at least 20 vowels and a minimum of 2 consenents - it's the law).
I do not know Flemish.
And having been phlegmish on occassion? Not the same thing.
Obviously.
However, despite our bickering, we finally made it to the gooey, yummy center of the old city, to our delicious hotel, Relais Bourgondisch Cruyce (which I learned about from the movie "In Bruges"), where they gave us the key to their magic kingdom:
(Much prettier than the normal card, and MUCH harder to steal. Quite bulky)And, to quote Ralph Fiennes' character Harry in the movie, it was like a fairy tale. A f**king fairy tale.
Imagine, if you will, that one of those little snowy ceramic Christmas villages somehow is made to real-life scale. This is Bruges.
It is just one of the most medieval, exquisite, picturesque places I have ever been to. Each building top has its own uniqueness, like this:
and this:
Carrying my new-found confidence of being the best photographer on the face of the earth (see here), I even managed to get some groovy reflection pictures on our early morning stroll:
(click to enlarge; our hotel was the one just about the black sign facing the canal)
(yup. I'm just waiting for that call from National Geographic an-ny day now...)The Baron and I, once settled in and nourished, agreed that we would both go off-page of our respective food plans for four things Belgium is known for.
1. Beer - I was the only drinker in our duo. I give it a hearty "meh". It was smooth, yes, but living in MicroBrewery world, I've had better. (and yes, that's what she said...)
2. Fries - I have heard tale that these are supposed to be amazing. Not so much.
3. Chocolate - Well. Things here definitely looked up. We stopped at a boutique chocolateria, and I had an Orangette (chocolate covered orange peel), and the Baron had full on Ganache-filled chocolate. This, miraculously, completely obliterated all of the painful squawking of earlier.
Like morphine, but creamier.
4. Waffles - I hate to buy into country stereotypes, but Oh. My. Gawd. Belgians so get it. Take a look for yourself:
(It really WAS like eating a cloud)Sadly, we had to bid a fond adieu to Belgium all too quickly.
I really would have loved to have moused around in the maze much, much longer.
I wouldn't even mind the dead ends:
