On Saturday, Jana and I took a day trip to Bruges, which Andrej had recommended. It was a long day. We left at 11:30 a.m. and didn't get back until 12:30 a.m.
The journey was fairly smooth, although there were a few exciting moments. After buying our tickets at the station (and nearly wiping out our combined cash because they don't accept credit cards at the ticket counter), we had to rush to the platform because the next train was scheduled to leave within five minutes. The directions the ticket agent gave us were a little off, and we looped around the station a few times before finally arriving at the platform with no more than a minute to spare.
With the rush to get to the train, we didn't have enough time to find any travel guides or even understand our itenary enough to know when we were supposed to transfer. The tickets said the journey was via Roosendaal, but when the conductor checked our tickets, she told us to get off at Antwerp and then take the train on the other side of the platform. So we nervously let Roosendaal fade into the distance before pulling up to the Antwerp Centraal satation. There was in fact another train waiting on the other side of the platform when we arrived, but the signs made no mention of Bruges. We stepped on board to see if anyone knew where the train was going. Luckily, there was an electronic sign on board that listed out the stops. This was an intercity train, and would make 8 of its 9 stops before ariving at Bruges.
There was an older couple from Bellingham sitting next to us on the train. Jana was able to reminisce about her time in Bellingham, while I tried to pass the time reading through a borrowed guide book.
We arrived in Bruges at about 2 p.m., bought a map from the information desk, and walked the 20 minutes into the center of town, stopping for lunch at a small cafe along the way. After walking around the main square, we decided to climb up the belfry.
The signs warn that there will be 363 steps to the top. Numbers like that never make much sense to me. The first few dozen steps are no problem at all. They are even easier to climb than the stairs leading up to Jana's apartment. But after a while my smug thoughts turned to despair, as the steps continue going up, and up, and up, and up.
There are a few places along the stairs where a placard shows your current position and far left your have to climb. Fortunately, I didn't notice any of these until we had made it to 300 steps. By then I felt we had gone too far to return. Had I noticed one of these signs at around 150, I might have just given up and turned back around right there.
The view from the top was pretty spectacular. It had started to rain, so there was a nice cool, wet breeze flowing through the tower that helped refresh me. After finally regaining my breath and fully checking out the scenery of town far below, we turned to begin the long trek down the stairs. As we turned to leave, the bells behind began a deafening and quite unexpected ringing.
By the time we reached the bottom, it was late enough in the day that all the museums were just about closed. We had time to check out a Rodin exhibit that featured reproductions of the work of the arist as well as information on the techniques used to create brass moldings.
After this, we wandered around the town, stopping in the occasional shop, and pausing to take pictures of the scenery. Jana played art director, identifying scenes and angles for me to photograph. We found an interesting looking restaurant that didn't open until 6 p.m.
To kill the the last half hour or so before the restaurant opened, Jana would pop into the odd shop to check something or another out, I didn't really understand most of it. I made my way to a take out stand and ordered a Belgian waffle smothered in Nutella. This was maybe not the best thing to do before dinner, but it was very tasty.
After dinner, we walked back to the train station and began the ride home. The train ride back was just as smooth as the one coming in, although the first train was packed with people for the first few stops. We couldn't find two seats next to each other until about half way back to Antwerp.
Jana wanted to see the photographs I had taken and finally demanded that I hand over the camera when we boarded the train for Amsterdam. Fortunately, I think most of the shots turned out fairly well.
With nearly seven hours on the train, an hour and a half for dinner, and wandering around for the afternoon, there was plenty of time for talking. Maybe a little too much time. I think my mouth is still a little dry from all the talking, and I'm worried that I may have accidentally revealed a few too many of my dark secrets.
