Catharine Hewitson finds the, initially, hidden glories of Bruges are as tasty as Belgium's famous chocolate industry
IF I’m honest, when I arrived in Bruges I felt a little cheated. My guidebooks referred to the Belgian city as ‘picturesque’ and ‘quaint’; ‘the Venice of the North’. Even In Bruges, a black comedy about hit-men, portrayed the city in a fairytale light.
The coach transfer from the port of Zeebrugge dropped my boyfriend and I at the station on the south-west perimeter of the city. I had built up expectations of stepping into a medieval time-warp, but there didn’t seem to be a turret or cobblestone in sight.
But picking up our suitcases to make our way through a warren of streets to the centre, things began to change. Pavements gradually became cobbled, houses became decorated with ornate door knockers and letterboxes, and cars gave way to horse and carts. I started to hear bells chiming and the clatter of horse hooves, and it all began to feel... older.
We checked our bags into our hotel and set off to explore the city with a vague plan. Bruges, which was given UNESCO World Heritage status in 2000, is perfect for wandering aimlessly without a map. That’s how we found the Arentspark; a leafy garden nestled behind a main street. Straddling the canal that runs through is St Bonifaciusbrug. Although tourists clamber to have their picture taken on this ‘old’ bridge, it was in fact only built in 1910.
A 16th Century map of Bruges shows 68 bridges over the city’s waterways, but today only 35 remain.
Bruges’ iconic landmark, the Belfort, also isn’t quite as it stood in the Middle Ages. The original tower, built in 1240, stood for only 40 years before fire burned it down. Re-built, part of the tower was brought down again in 1493; this time struck by lightning, and its spire was never replaced.
Still swaying a little from a choppy ferry crossing we braved the 366 steps to the summit of the tower where, 272ft into the sky, the streets and buildings below look like they are part of a model village. Almost at the top is the tower’s carillon chamber. We heaved ourselves up just as the bells began to peal their quarter-hourly melody. A toddler in a papoose covered his ears. An American tourist proclaimed: “All right!”
Back at the bottom we stopped to recover from the descent and overhead an American critiquing Belgian chocolate. “I don’t think Belgium can boast the best quality chocolate,” he said. “I think it’s just down to clever marketing.”
It can’t be so bad, though, as Belgian chocolatiers sell 220,000 tonnes each year. The museum Choco-Story traces the history of chocolate and its links to Belgium, and at one of the hundreds of chocolate shops sugarcoating around the city you can buy chocolate houses, boxes of chocolate, even chocolate body parts.
As a lover of seafood I decided to focus my efforts on one of Belgium’s other famous commodities: mussels. Served in enamel pots with a heap of chips the little critters are perfect washed down with a Belgian beer.
IN two days I was never going to get to try the hundreds of varieties of Belgian ale but I gave it my best shot. Each beer is presented in a glass that brings out its blend: a Duvel in a full-bottomed glass; an Orval in a wider, shallower glass, a Vedett in a tall, narrow glass and (my favourite) a Pauvel Kwak in a scaled-down yard glass.
For dinner we continued the seafood theme and chose De Visscherie, a restaurant on the fish market. We dined on oysters, langoustines, grilled monkfish, and the restaurant’s own take on waterzooï, a traditional Flemish soup made with cream and saffron.
After our meal we strolled to Burg Square past the fish market, where the smell of the catch of the day still lingered in the air. Burg’s architectural style spans 700 years, including the Stadhuis (town hall) built in 1376 to the Civiele Griffie (Records Office), constructed in 1537. Tucked in the corner is the 12th century Romanesque and Gothic Basilica of the Holy Blood, where visitors queue to touch a golden phial which is believed to contain the blood of Jesus Christ.
If there is any spot in the city to make you feel like you have stepped back in time, it is at Burg. At night the square is free of throngs of tourists. The lights from the Belfort cast an amber glow on the cobbles and the sound of footsteps echoes around the square.
Despite that initial feeling of disappointment on arrival, I felt the history steeped in all of the things we had experienced in Bruges - from the centuries-old peasant fare at the fish restaurant, to the 11th Century ale we drank overlooking the Markt square.
On our final afternoon we took a 30 minute canal tour. Sailing down the tree-lined canals towards Lover’s Lake was a perfectly nostalgic way to end our time in Bruges.
All photography by Catharine Hewitson
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