Brugge, Belgium

Hoping for nice weather, Kathy and I headed to Brugge (Bruges in French) on Saturday. I have found a theme in my cultural outings in the past week...it seems everywhere I go is a UNESCO World Heritage site. My internet research shows that there are 31 such sites in France, and I discovered that I've already been to several others in previous travels. A life goal to visit all 851 properties? Probably a very lofty aim, but I found a website of someone who is giving it a go!

With its canals, Brugge is known as the Venice of the North, and is one of the most beautiful cities I've seen. In 2000, UNESCO included the entire historical city center (which includes another béguinage) on the World Heritage list. The maze of winding cobbled alleys and canals looks much like it did in medieval times, as original Gothic structures help form the town's identity. Flemish Primitive Painters such as Hans Memling and Jan van Eyck are associated with Brugge.

Although we only spent about 10 hours in the town, Kathy and I managed to squeeze in three museum visits, a large clothing market, a small flea market, a boat tour, and a traditional Belgian dinner. At the Cathedral, we saw Michelangelo's "Madonna and Child" - one of the few outside of Italy, and toured the treasury where we learned about medieval tombs discovered in the crypt, the interior of which were painted with religious images. The Sint-Jan Hospitaalmuseum was an interesting visit, though I found the collection of medieval medical instruments a bit disturbing.

For me, the most educational visit was the volkskunde museum. There, we caught a glimpse of what life was like in the 17th Century. Upstairs, there was an interesting collection that, as best as we could tell, was comprised of family heirlooms. Next to each object - which ranged from a necklace to religious statues - was a label recounting why the object was important to them. With our combined knowledge of French and German, Kathy and I were able to decipher a little of each story, which was written in Flemish.

Our day came to an interesting close when, on the train ride back to Leuven, we were seated across a 70-something year-old woman and her son. Kathy and I had rushed to the train and arrived a little out of breath. The woman immediately struck up a conversation with us - in Flemish - and eventually we decided that she was asking us if we had been running. Her son, who speaks a little English, a tiny bit of French, and some German, served as her interpreter when she asked us questions like, "How many kilometers is it from Oklahoma to Graceland?" It must have been a pretty comical site, listening to us use four languages to communicate, but in a way, it was cool trying to find a common language to learn a little about this mysterious mother and son.