Sweetness

In my scramble to see all of Europe in two weeks, I bought all my train tickets for the rest of my trip, cramming my visit to Bruges into one day. While I was disappointed to have such a short time there, it was a great little trip. I arrived in the morning and walked to my hostel, which was the coolest place. There was a bar inside and my room had fourteen other travelers staying in it, two of whom sang California Dreamin' to me as a welcome. We had a great time getting to know each other that night in the hostel's lounge, but first I spent the day strolling the streets of Bruges.

It was a stroll for two reasons, the first being that if I walked too fast I would miss the street signs, which from my experience are very discrete in Europe and mostly aren't on any map. The second reason is that in Bruges, everyone is laid back. Bikes outnumber cars by a great margin, and people are in no hurry to get around. Maybe that's because in this small town, everything is there, especially chocolate. Every other store front lined their shelves with Belgian chocolate and more precisely, Praline chocolate from Bruges. My first task was to buy a mix of this famous treat, which was easy to say the least. Bruges reminded me of Paris with its beautiful little buildings and cobblestone streets, without the harassment from people trying to scam you, and without the big-city feel. Canals wind throughout the town and are lined with windmills.

I bought a hazelnut burger (YUM) and vegan fries with curry sauce from a local joint and carried my dinner up the hill to a windmill with a nice view of the old towers. Although I was soon surrounded by groups of tourists taking pictures in front of the scenery, I enjoyed every bite (and probably featured in the background of many photos, chomping away...).

Earlier in the day I walked to the top of the Belfry tower, 366 winding stairs to the big bell at the top, and could see its workings spin and move to make the quarter-hourly chimes. The view was nice, and the "museum" of information on the way up was mediocre... But the people watching was quite entertaining. The stairwell is narrow and the steps are small, and tourists are winded. I watched the look on their faces as they considered whether the entrance fee was worth the hike, the view and the body heat from other like-minded sightseers. Now on my list is to see the film In Bruges, in which two men travel around Bruges and make their way to the top of Belfry.

I visited little art galleries and shops in the area, stopping for the serenity of the canals, which were filled with swans and boats. I bought an antique spoon for my silverware collection and took my time exploring, passing many flower pots and bicycles.
That night I went back to the hostel to enjoy Belgian beer with my roommates. It was very tasty and went well with the fun atmosphere of the hostel's bar. My British and Australian friends had some lingo that created a funny language barrier even between English speakers, but that was a funny relief in relation to the actual divide that in which I've existed for the past week. In Belgium it's especially interesting, since their primary language differs depending on the region. In Brussels, it's all French and very little English. In Bruges most people speak English, but the main language is Flemmish, a Dutch dialect. Many of the locals, especially older generations prefer French, while the younger generations choose to study English. Being the tourist destination that Bruges now is, they also provide translations in Spanish and Netherland's Dutch. Soooo.... Lots of language is happening. And when people greet each other or run into each other, people have the same stuck expression as they don't know how to react.

After such a short trip to Bruges, I left very satisfied with my experiences, and I definitely want to go back one day. I returned to Paris and cancelled my train to Bordeux, as I wanted to rethink my plan for my final days before Seville. I spent yesterday walking around Paris, maintaining the relaxed ease I captured in Bruges, found a used book store that finally had English ones, and went to a local flea market where I bought a handcrafted leather notebook after talking to the Frenchman who makes them about his process and his artistic passion.

With a bag of remains from the hot, humid week I went to the Laverie, where someone taught me how to use the machines, since the directions were in French. I was surprised that people sat and waited for their washes, often just sitting and watching the spins. There is something about actually doing something, going to the Laverie and doing laundry and being there until it's done, that takes the stress away. It's funny to think that devoting one's time to a single activity is uncommon in the states, and I can say that we're really missing out on something here. I thought about time and the way it feels differently throughout the days, years. I thought maybe when we are presented with time each moment, and we try to use that single moment in multiple ways, we are creating a great illusion for ourselves. Often we think time is flying by, when really we are chopping it all up and expecting whole results. I think this is one of the things that the French and people of Bruges have done well, spending their time strategically. More simply maybe, leaving out many extremities that Americans are proud of , but they find complexity within it, in time as a whole. While it's uncommon to smile at passerby's in France unless more is expected to come beyond that, there is a kindness in saving these greetings for more genuine moments of interaction. It's been interesting to see how our views really create our realities, and it's amazing in many ways to feel that the world can be anyway we want it to be.

So there it is, the sweet fruit of my labor, the enlightenment I came here for. I am overwhelmed that it's only begun.