spending money?!

When we saw the 2008 black comedy film IN BRUGES, that starred Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson, we thought we would never ever go to the Belfort. I don't want to ruin the movie for you, but the climax of the movie, which was nominated for an Academy Award, involves a flying midget and the medieval era tower. It was ominous and scary, but the film put Bruges on the map for us and as VFH planned its trip to Belgium, Bruges made the cut over Antwerp.

The Belfort, Bruges



Presiding over the Markt square in Bruges, the Belfort was first erected in 1240, but over the years endured fires and lightning strikes and was partially rebuilt and added to over the years. Despite its checkered past it is quite a tourist draw and when we sat at one of the cafes on the far side of the Markt we watched people parading in and out of the place. People snapped pictures of the tower and we could see far above us people peering out onto this beautiful city.

We took a deep breath and steeled ourselves against leaping midgets and decided to visit the bell tower ourselves. After all, here we are in this beautiful city, already having paid so much to get here, that sometimes you have to knuckle down and be brave. Do as the Romans do, or the Americans, or the Japanese do in Bruges... go to the top of the Belfort and snap pictures of everything! So, we finished our coffee and walked over...

Now, as readers of this blog will know, VFH is a cheap lot. We walked through the arch that led to the courtyard of the cloth hall and admired the views from within...that was free. It was in this courtyard of the cloth hall, that Flemish cloth, manufactured in different cities, was sold to the rest of the world. Records from 1399, say there were nearly 400 cloth sales stands within the hall. Great history, but we were nervous. We scanned the crowd for ominous midgets, but everyone was of average height, so we were safe, that is until we saw the price to hike up the actual Belfort. It was 8 Euros...roughly $13 each. Janet, usually the more practical member of the VFH squad, immediately balked at the price. She recounted several places that charged outrageous admission prices, like the Leaning Tower in Pisa, etc., but she said this wasn't worth it, especially since there was a wait to get inside. I agreed, for the admission price was more than the cost of two beers! So, we left, but did not linger near the tower to photograph it, for fear a wee folk would land on us.

Kroegentocht

I am not proud of this, but I'm a cheap date. I can't drink a lot. My limit for martinis is one and it might as well be that same number for strong Belgian beers. With alcohol content in some of the beers hovering around 10% pub crawls are difficult. The limit for this sorry-ass beer lover in Bruges is short, and only if we scatter the stops over the course of an entire day and night.

Perhaps though, having this weak constitution for alcohol should be a requirement for membership in the rarified company of Vacations From Home. At least we don't spend a lot of money on alcohol.

But, what to do. Here is VFH in Bruges, Belgium, one of the top tourist destinations in Europe with it's medieval buildings and enchanting canals. Known as the Venice of the North, it is a UNESCO World Heritage site. This lovely place, where everyone speaks English along with their native Flemish, and where there is a chocolate shop on every corner, is in a country that is considered by many as the best beer producing country in the world, and we're limiting ourselves. We've already spent a substantial amount of money, by VFH standards, to get here. Also, typical of team VFH, we have done our research. We have read guide books and websites, sampled many Belgian beers at home and even made maps of Bruges (and Brussels) with the bars we HAD to visit marked with color coded dots. We were ready to drink our way along the cobblestoned streets of Bruges, but here is the dilemma, this would require us to drink many of the strong beers! And, there could be no sharing a beer. We each had to get our own. Pacing wasn't an option, it was the only way to survive the night!

Beetlejuice!



Well, followers of this blog will remember that the first half of our first day in Bruges ended with a monk-inspired drowsy nap for the latter part of the afternoon after just two beers each. Later that evening we hit our favorite place in Bruges, Cafe ‘t Brugs Beertje, where we had two more along with a great cheese plate. My second  beer was a Westmalle Tripel from the tap! When we first had a Westmalle Tripel at the Eulogy Tavern in Philadelphia, it was a solemn event. It was the first time we had experienced the whole proper presentation and pouring of Belgian beer from a bottle and we had smiled at our luck. Westmalle is a Trappist monastery brew, but over here in Bruges, it was not rare at all and to find it on tap was common. In fact, beers that we had held with such high regard back home like Westmalle and Leffe were as common as PBR....okay that's a stretch in the metaphor. Still, these beers were shockingly available everywhere.

We ended our first night in this lovely wonderful city at a place we stumbled upon, the Rose Red Cafe. http://www.cordoeanier.be/en/rosered.php

It was very new. We walked by it earlier this morning while we were trying to find a place for breakfast and to get our bearings after our train ride from Brussels and later, Bier Tempel guy told us it was very good, specializing in Trappist beers, so it was a natural stop for us as we walked back to our hotel that first night. The Rose Red Cafe is avidly seeking the beer lover in it's approach as their menu asks that if you're satisfied with your visit to tell others in Trip Advisor, Ale Street News and Beer Advocate.  But, Chuck Cook, the beer writer who has visited Bruges several times to drink beers at 't Brugs Beertje had not heard of the place until I wrote to him about VFH's fine experience there. For, though Rose Red was actively pursuing the powerful tourist dollars, there was a quiet serene quality to the place. It was really just around the corner from the Markt and all the touristed areas, but it was another world.

Although part of the Hotel Cordoeanier, it was not strictly a hotel bar. Still, our barmaid was doing double duty at the front desk. I asked for a Westy 12, but sadly they had were not out, so I settled for an Augustijn Grand Cru and Janet a La Trappe Quadruppel. We chatted with the bartender about life and the difficulty with finding parking spots in Bruges. Life is the same everywhere, it's just that the beers are so much better. We weaved our way back to the Hotel Asirus along the empty streets, happy with our pub crawl. It was a successful first day. We were tipsy and had drunk five beers total this day.



Ambrosia....

The next morning I arose early to get in a run. In my travels through work and play I've prided myself on my runs in far flung locales. I've seen a lot of cities around this world through my running. It is a great way to see a place and sometimes when I've only been in a city for a day my finest recollection is of my loping along the streets. This particular run though was more than keeping in shape. It had two purposes. I have never run in Belgium and I was compelled to add this country to my ledger. The other one was the beer. You can drink more if you sweat out your alcohol.... 

I left Janet sleeping in the bedroom of the Asiris Hotel with the windows open wide to the street below. It was cool and the breeze blowing in made getting out of bed a diffcult decision, but the pursuit of a memory out weighed comfort. I ran along the canal passing bicyclists and a few other people making their way for their morning destinations. The canal empties into the River Dijver and the old part of Bruges ends here. I followed a multi-use path that skirted the river. Across the Dijver was the R30, bristling with morning traffic; another world. The river is narrow, not like the Mississippi, but barges slowly plied the water. One barge was moored by the side, a bike was chained to the gangplank. As I ran I passed four windmills, two of them were erected in the 1700's. You're able to tour one if you are brave enough to climb the very steep stairs and pay the 2 Euro fee.

Two of the four windmills of Bruges



Kruispoort

As I followed the path I passed Kruispoort one of the four remaining city gates that once comprised the walled defenses of the old medieval city of Bruges. This was a part of the city that fewer tourists venture into and at this early hour of my run I was alone with other runners and people walking their dogs and bicyclists. It was a great run. Later Janet and I walked along the path, hiked up one of the windmills and visited Kruispoort and then meandered through this very quiet area of the city and we shopped for chocolate, lace, Flemish language children's books and other trinkets. We took a tourist break at one of the many cafes lining the Makrt and we lingered awhile marveling our luck to sit in the shadow of the Belfort.

Cafes along Markt in Bruges

The first stop on our Kroengentocht was the Café Vlissinghe. It has been operating continuously since 1515! The beer list is relatively weak, compared to the other places we've visited in Bruges. The "Bieren van 't vat", on tap, offers just three, Jupiler, the Brugge Zot Blond, from the Halve Maan Brewery and Leffe Bruin. The bottled beer contain the usual suspects including the Westmalles, but what the place lacks in adventurous beers it more than makes up with its charm. Wood paneled, with the walls covered in art and plenty of chachkas, the place is lighted by sunlight spilling in through several floor to ceiling windows. There are several long wooden tables and a long flued wood stove at one end of the room providing heat in the winter. Locals and tourists mixed in the place and there was a convivial feel to the place. Bathrooms were outside stalls on one end of the garden sitting area that was serene and bedecked with flowers. Janet and I had a few beers and played backgammon at one of the tables before moving on to the next place.

http://www.cafevlissinghe.be/welcome.html

Serendipity is a byword for your VFH crew. When Bier Tempel guy recommended a couple of other places when we produced our beer map of Bruges; he even drew on the map and wrote the names down; we knew we had to make them a part of our pub crawl. Besides they were on the way from here to there and so a perfect excuse to drop in while crawling.

Comptoir des Arts and Poatersgat were directly across Vlamingstraat (Vegitmite Street for us) from each other.  The latter opened later in the evening and so we settled in at the bar at Comptoir des Arts for a quick one. It was more of a blues club in a cellar that offered a lot of beers and a good selection of liquor. The place was just opening for the evening, so it was quiet. The owners, a husband and wife, were friendly, spoke excellent English and told us about their recent trip to Las Vegas. We chatted with them for awhile. Janet drank a Val Dieu Triple at 9% and I had a Belgian Ale Urthel Saisonnière at 6, both recommended by the barmaid. We then we said our good-byes and already weaving a bit headed back to 't Brugs Beertjes and Daisy. You may remember  from an earlier entry of this blog that Daisy was very helpful and she too recommended a couple of beers for us.

It was then back to Bierbrasserie Cambrinus to give it another shot. We thought perhaps with a more vibrant night time crowd it may be better. We were mistaken. We still found it lacking in the charm of so many other places. Our favorite place was definitely Daisy's joint...Beetlejuice. Cambrinus still did not win out, although I did finally get to drink a Westvletern 8 there. Brewed by Westvleteren Abdij St. Sixtus, the 8 and 12 are considered to be some of the best beers in the world. The website Rate Beer gives it a score of 100.

http://www.ratebeer.com/beer/westvleteren-extra-8/4935/

A boy and his beer... a Westy 8



After getting into some hijinks with a Tibetan monk in the middle of the Markt... he didn't take kindly to my demanding more monk beer from him... We tottered to our last stop for the night...Poatersgat. It was a cellar bar and to enter I had to duck my head in the low doorway. The place was hopping, but when we took our place at the bar, the bartender told us much of his business was at an outdoor festival concert on the far end of town. It was plenty busy for us. Many of the tables in the dark place  were brimming with kids. The ceiling was low and pillars created alcoves. Music competed with conversations. It was nice, but we felt already it was too quick a pace for us... we are old folk afterall. Still the beer list was impressive and Janet went with a Gulden Draak, a dark brown triple ale at 10.5%! She balked a bit at my choice, a St. Bernardus Abt 12 because that's readily available back home. I read somewhere though this was as close to a Westvletern 12 as you can get. From 1946 until 1992, the Westvletern line was actually brewed by St. Bernardus under contract from the monks of Saint Sixtus and though that connection ended and the yeasts come from Westmalle, the beer was very, very good. It doesn't carry an "Authentic Trappist Product" sticker, but it was pretty close.

It was an act of self preservation that we left Poatersgat on Vegitmite street. We had drunk our fill of the Belgian beers, totaling 6 in all for the evening and as we walked along the canals and dark streets of Bruges back to our hotel we canoodled and giggled.

http://www.poatersgat.com/

The Markt in Bruges

, 

Beetlejuice

We are an irreverent crew here at Vacations From Home. We find humor in many things and we joke about absurdities. We don’t even attempt to pronounce the Flemish names of places and streets. For instance, Vlamingstraat quickly became Vegitmite Street and our favorite place in Bruges, Café ‘t Brugs Beertje, will forever be known to us as Beetlejuice.


Cafe 't Brugs Beertje logo

‘t Brugs Beertje somehow translates to Little Bear. The bear is the mascot of Bruges. This wonderful tavern, in operation since 1983, is found on a little side street in the shopping area of this tourist town of medieval buildings and canals.  They offer over 250 Belgian beers as well as several on tap. The building itself dates back to 1632! Of all the pubs we visited in Bruges, this was our favorite. Our experience at Beetlejuice was so different than Cambrinus. Here at the Little Bear, amid many “American” accents, we were treated as patrons and not tourists. The apple-cheeked owner of ‘t Brugs Beertje, Daisy, takes great pride in her knowledge of beer. Ask her a question or for a suggestion and you’ll be pleasantly surprised with the result! Her staff is knowledgeable as well and the entire experience, from the pouring to the presentation; with the labels of both the bottle and glass turned so you can read them; is wonderful. There are still a lot of beers available, but the intimidation was short lived and they came to our rescue. The décor is older. Beer advertisements cover the walls and the entire place has a warm, easy feel to it. Your VFH crew are bar sitters. We would rather be at the bar than at a table. We meet more people that way, and we chatted with several other patrons, who not surprisingly, were mainly American. Bruges is a major destination and with craft brewing taking off in the United States and interest in Belgian beers growing, it’s not surprising that we were not alone in this find.



interior view of 't Bruge Beertje

We went twice to the Little Bear. That first night after our lengthy beer induced nap in the afternoon Janet drank an Achel Trappist and I had a Gueze Giradin, The Achel was an obvious choice, but the Gueze Giradin was different. It was recommended to me by the Bier Tempel owner. A type of lambic beer, gueze is a blend of several lambics and then a second fermentation is allowed, producing a sour but refreshing beer. Bier Tempel man said Gueze Giradin was the best, though he cautioned it is an acquired taste; slightly tart but refreshing. Gueze is called the “Belgian Champagne” and indeed my Giradin was served in a champagne bottle, complete with cork. I enjoyed it and looked forward to drinking more Gueze when we hit places in Brussels that are renowned for these lambics, like Moeder Lambic and A La Mort Subite… but those places are for another VFH entry.

The first round at The Little Bear



Hof ten Dormaal Wit Goud

The second night on our Bruges Pub crawl had us swing by Daisy’s place again. We asked her to recommend a couple of beers to us. Janet got a St. Feuillien and Daisy was impressed with my accent as I pronounced it. I did take French for two years in High School I’ll have you know, but I think my accent was influenced by my drinking. I asked her to recommend a Farmhouse Ale and she was aglow about this selection. Evidently it’s a new brew and ‘t Brugs Beertje offers a lot of Flemish beers. Daisy was emphatic about her selection for me. Hof ten Dormaal Wit Goud Witloofbier is brewed in Tildonk-Haaght, and she waved her hands and said several times that this was new and very good. Wit Goud is the name for the beer that is made with home-grown chicory (or witloof in Dutch) at André Janssens farm-brewery. It’s arrival on the market has been highly anticipated, and ‘t Brugs Beertje was proud to serve it. I have to admit chicory is not the first ingredient I’d put in a beer, but I enjoyed it, if only for the attention we received from Daisy and her brew crew. Book your tickets to Bruges, now!, and give Daisy a hug for us.

http://www.brugsbeertje.be/



Bierbrasserie Cambrinus

We had our heart set on Bierbrasserie Cambrinus. It was the first place we picked out in researching Bruges. Cambrinus looked and sounded absolutely incredibly delightful. The website features day and night pictures of the beautiful building that was built in 1699. It was enchanting….and then there were the beers. Cambrinus offers 400 different beers, some on tap, but mostly in bottles. The website lists them in alphabetical order. http://www.cambrinus.eu/ This incredible array of beers was quite overwhelming. We figured we could spend our entire Bruges stay in the hallowed Bierbrasserie Cambrinus.

The place is named after some mythical king of beer. No, his knick name is not “Bud”. One inside wall features a huge mural of a beer sodden king, his crown askew, sleeping on a barrel. Outside there’s a statue on the corner of the building of the good king Cambrinus holding aloft a stein. We were ready and thirsty and hungry to visit this wondrous place, but we were somewhat disappointed. Now, this is not meant to dissuade you from visiting this place. You should. There are lots and lots of favorable reviews. People like it. For us though, the place has a too slick feeling to it. A touristy feel to it. Perhaps it is the acme of beer drinking, but the experience was off for us.



Bierkaart at Cambrinus

 Cambrinus is just off the Grote Markt on Philipstockstraat, which means it is right in the middle of the tourist area of town, although in hindsight all of Bruges is a tourist area. Still, catering to beer enthusiasts who’ve traveled here in droves, can be, despite their enthusiasm, can be exhausting after awhile. Consequently the wait staff seemed annoyed when we hemmed and hawed over our order. It wasn’t a language barrier; everything was in English, Flemish and French and mid-afternoon the place was not crowded. But, there were 400 beers to choose from after all. Questions about beers were met with shrugs. I guess to be a beer enthusiast you have to know what you want to drink. The “Beerkaart” was unwieldy to us. The proprietor of Bier Tempel had said he helped put the book together. At that time we wished he was with us to aid in the selection. We took a table near the window, away from the frowning burly barmaid and finally settled on two “safe” beers. I had a Rochefort 10 and Janet had la Trappe Dubbel; both Trappist brews. We didn’t really remember this fact, but each beer is printed out on a little receipt with different prices. The Rochefort 10 cost 5.50 Euros (it’s around $13 back home), and the Trappe Dubbel was 3.50 Euros. That and the appropriate glass served with the beer and you are sure to engage some memory cells. We also went to Cambrinus to eat. Mussels were not in season, yet that’s what we wanted to eat. It cost 21.95 Euros for mussels in white wine, which we thought was a lot of money. This high price was pretty consistent around town.


Again, there are lots of favorable reviews about Cambrinus. Do your research so you know what you want and the 400 beer selection won’t be so intimidating. Tell us about your experiences at VFH... globe_gnome2000@yahoo.com We're always interested in hearing what our readers have to say.


Anyway, despite the "flat" karma at Cambrinus we were already weaving from just two beers; the first two at the Halve Maan. We retrieved the two Westvletern 12’s we had stowed at the Bier Tempel and somehow found our way to the hotel where we fell asleep for a number of hours, the windows wide open and the Bells of St. Gilles not stirring us until the early evening.

Not to give Cambrinus short shrift we decided to return the next day as part of our extended Bruges Pub Crawl. We were left with the same impression as before, that the overall experience at Cambrinus felt rushed, this despite our drinking a Gentse Tripel and a Westvletern 8, which cost 3.25 E and 9.95 E each. To say drinking the Westy was some sort of reverent experience would be a bit too much. I had been looking forward to tasting this quixotic and rare brew. It was very good, but of course all the beers are good. Beer Advocate http://beeradvocate.com/ gives it an A.

bier tempel

Ryanair took us to Charleroi, a town around 50 km from Brussels proper. In Belgium distances are measured in kilometers, but in England they are listed in miles. Anyway, we took a bus that cost 13.50 euros and had to elbow our way on it. Rather than lining up, people just pushed their way aboard. The bus deposited us at the Gare du Midi and we could have continued on directly to Bruges but in planning this leg of the trip decided to remain overnight in Brussels, near the train station and get up early the next morning. But we could have kept going and in hindsight it might have been a good idea to do so.


We got a hotel just across the street from the Gare du Midi and the area was typically seedy. We hurried with our bags to the brightly lighted Hotel de France, dodging cars whipping past us. Inside the lobby several arabic men stared at us as we checked in. The room was worn a painting on the wall had been torn off leaving strips of paint missing in its place. We got on the internet and starting reading about the area and found lots of complaints about trouble and attacks. One entry said he was held up with a machete.

We slept in our clothes and did not leave our room until morning. As we slept we dreamed of Belgian beer....so dangerously close.

We may have overreacted, but the trip to Bruges was absolutely wonderful. We got on a sleek, quiet train well marked with our destination in two languages. Brussels is a bi-lingual city and both French and Flemish are used, though most of the south of the country is populated by Walloons with their heritage linked to France. Bruges is Flemish and it's the prevalent language there. Both French and Flemish is listed everywhere. Flemish is really Dutch with a nicer accent, say the citizens of Bruges.

In Bruges we hopped on a bus for about 1.2 Euros each and it rambled through the still quiet streets and eventually drove through the jaw dropping views of the Grote Markt. Commerce of some sort has been going on in the square since the 11th Century. Ringed by cafes and flagpoles and a statue commemorating the battle of the Golden Spurs in 1302, the Markt is the center of this medieval city that survived untouched by the two world wars that raged nearby in Ypres. Looming over one end of the Markt is the Belort that figured prominently in that film "In Bruges". Another side of the square is the beautiful neo-gothic Provincial Court. We craned our heads as we passed through the Markt and sighed. Our plan was to get off here and then weave our way through the streets to the Hotel Asiris that is in the very quiet north quarter of the city, but decided to ride the bus for awhile longer. We had no real idea how to get there or where to go actually. When we eventually got off at a random stop near one of the many canals and the bus rambled off, we were lost but enthralled with the serenity and beauty we were standing amid. A biker would flit past, a woman strolling with her dog, but largely we were alone. The canal shimmered in the morning light. We sighed at our fortune and headed off, the clattering of our luggage wheels the only noise as we passed beautiful storybook views with every step. Consulting the map we picked up at the train station as well as the beer map Janet printed out with all the bars we wanted to hit color coded as well as our hotel, we finally made the hotel. See the earlier entry in our blog, “Preparations” for the beer maps for both Bruges and Brussels. 


The Hotel Asiris is right across the narrow cobblestoned street from the 15th Century St Gillis Church. Our room was above the entrance way with two large windows that opened onto the street. We could lie in bed and watch the rare bicyclist and rarer pedestrian pick their way along. Hourly the bells of St. Gilles reverberated through the room and we shuddered with delight at the clamoring. We had, or should I say, Janet had picked out a great place. An expansive breakfast was included with the clean, comfortable room and the total price for our two nights was 147 Euros.

Yes! It was all working out splendidly. Bruges was beautiful and historical, and we were so happy to be here, but we at Vacations From Home central were here for the beer. We had willowed down our destinations in the country to Bruges and Brussels and after we got over our initial shock and awe of where serendipity had landed us, we decided to put our thirsty research to the test. After all we had read about and tasted as much Belgium beer as possible in the United States. We had elicited the expert advice of a couple of reknowned beer travelers, Chuck Cook from America and Danny Van Tricht from Antwerp. Google them and you're gain much more knowledge about such travels than through this website! We were raring to go and drink, and it was just 10:30 in the morning.

Bruges, Belgium



Armed with our printed map of the bars and the map we got at the hotel but guided by our thirst we tried to negotiate the narrow streets and bridges of the town, laboring over the Flemish names. They twisted and turned, but even the smallest thoroughfare was labeled. Thankfully Bruges is a small town and even if you make a wrong turn, you can easily correct your travels.


Our first destination was Cafe Herberg Vlissinghe. From our research we gathered they did not offer an overwhelming selection of beer, but it has been continually operating since 1515! It was worth the visit just for the historic value. Café Vlissinghe is located across the canal from us we thought it would be a long walk, but it just five minutes away on Blekersstraat 2, an impossibly narrow street that ended at the canal. Sadly it was still closed,so we moved on to the next place and resolved to visit the place later or the next day.
http://www.cafevlissinghe.be/

Philipstockstraat proved to be the most incredible street. Of all the hundreds of similar streets in Bruges lined with shops and restaurants and historic buildings, this one had two beer destinations. One was Bierbrasserie Cambrinus. With well over 400 favorable reviews and offering as many beers, it was the first place we put on our beer list. It too was closed! Again we had to return.
http://www.cambrinus.eu/

The second establishment was Bier Tempel. It is a store that sells all the Belgium beers, including all the Trappist brews as well as all the appropriate glasses. The unique part about the approach to beer in this country is that apart from the alcohol content and taste, each beer is sold in the appropriate glass. Later when we finally got a beer at Cambrinus we watched the bartender first look for the glass and then fetched the beer. Another interesting aspect of beer in Belgium; bottled beer is acceptable and sometimes it is the only way it is served. Relatively very few beers are served on tap. The beer is poured into the proper glass and both the glass label and bottle label are placed so you can read both. After we had a quick breakfast of pain du chocolat in an organic pastry shop on Philipstockstraat, we stumbled upon their next door neighbor, Cambrinus and just a few stores away and closer to the Markt was Bier Tempel.

On a lark I asked the owner of the cramped temple if he had any Westvletern 12, which is consistently voted as the best beer in the world. Readers of this blog will remember the many steps the monks of St Sixtus Trappist monastery require for one to purchase their Westies. Here is the link: http://www.sintsixtus.be/eng/brouwerij.htm

He apologized that he only had half a case of the 12. Janet and I nearly hugged him. We purchased two asked him to hold the precious cargo until we returned later that day and told him about our search and the people we’ve spoken to about beer. He mentioned a couple of bars not on our list and even wrote the names down and marked them on our little beer map. Sadly, we said we were unable to ship beers through him, claiming there was too much difficulty. We talked at length about Geuze and Lambic beers as well and he told us of one we should try, Geuze Giradin. Helpful, cheerful, he sent us on our way, still thirsty.
http://www.biertempel.be/

Janet wanted to take a canal boat ride through Bruges. It is a popular tourist excursion with several different tours operating on the narrow canal. The guide spoke in several languages, French, Flemish and English and he pointed out buildings, details and historic details of the town. It was pleasant, lasted roughly half an hour and cost 6.9 Euros each.

We finally had our first beer at the lone brewery in Bruges. De Have Maan… or half moon. It is near a canal, of course, and just outside the brewery there is a tree lined plaza with several outdoor restaurants. We were going to take a tour, but opted to just drink a beer. We got the dark and the blond and we shared them with each other, 3 Euros for the blond and 3.50 for the brown. Afterwards we got a take away order of frites (French Fries) and weaved down the streets towards Cambrinus. We were already tipsy on one beer and we still had a lot of imbibing to do in Bruges!

http://www.halvemaan.be/index.php?id=13&L=2

going the extra mile

We took Ryanair from Scotland and the no frills flight was quick and comfortable. Although the flight crew was constanting hawking us to spend money on food and goods and odd things like lottery tickets, this was all okay because the flight was so cheap. If this is what we have to endure to fly cheaply within Europe than I'm fine with that. It cost us 93lbs to fly from Edinburgh to Brussels South airport in Charleroi.

We started the rainy day lingering over our traditional Scottish breakfast at the Abbey Hotel. Bacon, eggs, beans, bangers or sausages and haggis.
  From Wikipedia: Haggis is a dish containing sheep's 'pluck' (heart, liver and lungs), minced with onion, oatmeal, suet, spices, and salt, mixed with stock, and traditionally simmered in the animal's stomach for approximately three hours. Most modern commercial haggis is prepared in a casing rather than an actual stomach.


As you can imagine I graciously offered my Scottish delicacy to Janet... but I have put a moratorium on kissing for at least two days.....


We checked out of the Abbey Hotel, but left our bags with the hosts and then started walking in Edinburgh. Janet had to buy a warmer jacket because we were ill-prepared for the cold, rainy weather here, so we shopped in a mall near the Waverley train station. Then we headed to the Royal Mile. It's a touristed place brimming with shops and bars and restaurants and much to see...


There's The Elephant House cafe that boasts that JK Rowling began writing the Harry Potter books in their shop. http://www.elephanthouse.biz/

There are closes that are worth exploring:
http://www.edinburgh-royalmile.com/closes/royalmile-closes.html

There are secret vaults of recently rediscovered areas of Edinburgh and the stuff of ghost stories:
http://www.stuckonscotland.co.uk/edinburgh/vaults.html

But, what do you think the VFH crew did....? We went to Royal Mile Whiskies. Janet had been to Edinburgh 4 years ago when she visited her daughter in Lancashire and bought me a single malt whisky there and so the experience was positive. We decided to go and purchase a couple of bottles and have them shipped back home. The help in the cozy shop is attentive and well versed in all whiskies. We discussed at length what we were looking for and the fellow steered us to a couple of unique malts. But, we were unwilling to purchase a bottle until we had a taste. Afterall, this is an investment and one was a BenRiach Authenitcus 21 year old whisky that cost 63lbs. One shop (we price compared) pitched it for 80! So, we went to the Bow Bar for a taste. He didn't have it, but we got a peaty from BenRiach that was quite good. Later we found another bar that carried BenRiach Authenticus, but we didn't like it as much. So we returned to Royal Mile to opt for a Caol Ila and an An Cnoc and had them shipped to the U.S.  Hopefully they'll make it. We spent a lot, but Royal Mile Whiskies did the VAT deduction for us, which covers the cost of the shipping. I'll let you know if the shipment arrives safely! Royal Whiskies will help you with all your needs. 
www.royalmilewhiskies.com

We then watched the changing of the guard at the castle before heading off to our hotel to pick up our bags. We sat in the gardens out back to smoke cigarettes and eventually our host at the hotel came back to ask us when we wanted our cab. When it arrived he came back again and we were off to another country.
The taxi cost us 20lbs with a tip.

you take the high road nessie

Somehow, after our lengthy Fourth of July celebration, we managed to get up and out the door early enough to catch a 7:05 from Crewe to Edinburgh. I don't know how Colin, our host, does it, but he was up and bright eyed and cheery and he drove us all to the station. Perhaps it's the British accent that makes him sound less miserable?


Anyway, our two friends from Delaware had traveled in for the wedding and the four of us were driven to the train station. Where Nantwich is lovely, Crewe, from what I saw, was a bit more urban and dingy. The station was typical of a train station too, but the train inself was neat and functional, if expensive. Janet bought the tickets very early online at 32 pounds. The price goes up the closer you get to the departure date. She then simply retrieved the tickets by inserting her credit card in a kiosk. It was all very efficient.

Getting to our respective hotels was less efficient. Edinburgh was a busy gritty place with traffic rumbling everywhere and old stone buildings and a castle magically soaring out of the rock on one side of the station and people of every country weaving past and men in kilts playing bagpipes and cars not willing to yield to pedestrians and if your bearings aren't right you're hiking about in the wrong direction and all the time it's uphill. After the genteel days of Nantwich this was a sock in the teeth. Signs everywhere cautioned against pickpockets and there was angst in our steps as we wound our way around Waverley train station towards our respective hotels on Royal Terrace. It took awhile to get to this quiet cobblestoned street and we started headed down Waterloo Place on the other side of Calton Hill which proved to be the wrong way. But then a burly driver of a tourist van realized our plight and got out a map for us. He was sitting in his empty van waiting for his charges to return when he saw us scratching our collective heads and huffing up the hill. Our view of Edinburgh and Scotland softened right then. The broad shouldered fellow happily shouted out the directions with his deeply chiseled features beaming saying most of the way was downhill at this point.


Evidently the American Embassy is also on Royal Terrace. It was thankfully a very quiet street and there is a park across from the row of hotels and private homes. Our friends were staying at the aptly named Royal Terrace hotel, which was far too much money to spend for the VFH team. We settled for the Abbey Hotel just a few doors down. At 95 lbs for the night it was good enough. It may have lacked amenities like a swimming pool, but it was clean and offered a full Scottish breakfast. Because we got in too early to check in to the room, we left our bags with the couple running the place. They were cheery and smiling and helpful and made our stay very pleasant. We left our bags and then visited our friends in their hotel. They were intent on sitting in the hotel lobby to wait for their room and were going to visit the castle afterwards. Janet and I decided to make our way to Glenkinchie, dubbed the Edinburgh distillery. We like our single malts and this distillery is the closest one to the city. Originally we were going to travel much more around Scotland to sample scotches and whiskies, but decided Belgian beer held more allure. The trip to Glenkinchie proved to be a perfect trip for us.

I had actually never heard of Glenkinchie before, but while researching how to visit different distilleries I happened upon Classic Malts. This marketing group was very helpful and sent to me a "passport" that allowed me and a guest free entry to several distilleries they represented. A lot of the distilleries charge a fee, including Glenkinchie. It was all working out well. We figured we'd visit Glenkinchie and drink their malts and hit a couple of places on the Royal Mile, the street that runs from the castle in Edinburgh to the palace at the bottom of the hill. It is a touristed area with lots of shops and bars. Then I realized I had left my "passport" at home! Horrors! I contacted Classic Malts and they told me not to worry....just talk my way in to avoid the 6 lb fee.

http://www.malts.com/index.php/Gateway-en


After some difficulty with figuring out the bus schedule we boarded the 44B to Pentcaitland. It drove through Edinburgh and skirted the North Sea by Musselburgh, past homes though still austere still boasted neat gardens in the front yards and through other nameless towns each with its own Celtic cross and finally into leafy country roads and cultivated fields until we came to a small clutch of buildings gathered around a corner. This was Pentaitland. We barely saw the sign for Glenkinchie and asked the driver to stop after we had passed. He apologized and pulled over and we hiked up to the square again and Janet made a call to a local taxi for a ride to the distillery, roughly a mile and a half away. While she phoned an elderly lady was getting into her car and I asked her how long a walk was to the distillery. She told us and then offered to drive us there! The VFH mooch crew struck again. She was going to just drive us by the turn off and we'd have to walk the rest, but she drove us to the entrance.

Yes, we also talked our way into the distillery, but it wasn't much of a challenge. Even before the words were completely out of mouth the enthusiastic host at Glenkinchie gathered I had left my Classic Malts "passport" home. No worries she said and she handed us each a 5lb voucher for a purchase of a bottle. It was a slow day at the distillery anyway and the effervescent Austrian woman (think Terri Garr in Young Frankstein) walked us around the distillery. We got to smell the malty wash of the brewing barley and then she led us into the locked warehouse where the "viskee est sleeping." The tour ended with viskee sampling. Our first was Glenkinchie. As it was slow we were allowed to linger for quite awhile and the more we asked about different malts the more she poured another for us. She also offered tastes of whiskies from all over Scotland, not just Glenkinchie. She showed us how to plop in a few drops of water to further release the smells and tastes of the malts and we ooed and aahed appropriately. She then called us a cab and while waiting got into a conversation with another of the guides and he poured us more whisky! When the driver arrived to take us back to Pencaitland and the bus we were spinning with ideas. The driver charged us 7 lbs for the short ride. We gave him another pound as a tip. Janet said, “This one’s is for you.” Yes, your Vacations From Home team may be cheap, but we are not rude.


We got to sit in the front seat on the top floor of a double-decker bus for the hour ride back to Edinburgh which was an added plus to the day because of the different perspective. Altogether the bus ride cost us 6,40 lbs round trip. It is said that Edinburgh is not Scotland though it is the capital and this little trip showed us both worlds.

Later we met our friends for dinner at the Royal Crown. It was an ornate pub with huge paintings of different inventors.on the walls We each had a drink and traditional meals like meat pies and plates of sausages. It was crowded and the food was very good, but rather than lingering over drinks we prodded our friends into walking over to the Bow Bar.
 http://www.caferoyal.org.uk/

The tour guide at Glenkinchie told us about this great place just off the Royal Mile. She termed it a proper whisky bar. After some hemming by our compadres they decided to come for the walk. Janet and I quite happy with the find. The bartender listened to our interests, in this case peaty tasting malts. He pulled down four bottles for us to sniff and we picked two. We retired to a corner seating area with our friends and their Jack Daniels, and we savored these two fine malts for a very long time, allowing them to warm. Sadly we failed to take notes on the two so we're unsure what exactly we had, but, we twirled the malts in the glass, sniffed repeatedly, sniffed some more, sipped and twirled and sniffed and throughout our friends crinkled their noses at our ardore and the rest of the crowd at the Bow Bar was oblivous to our epiphany. The world was spinning just as it should. And altogether our drinks cost us 8,40 lbs. It was the end of a lovely day.


 http://www.beerintheevening.com/pubs/s/55/5512/Bow_Bar/Edinburgh

fourth of july

Traditions are important and comforting especially to a young ex-patriot living abroad. Janet's daughter now lives in England which lost the Colonial War to the U.S. and to which we as a nation celebrate the occasion of our national birth. This usually really means hot dogs and burgers and beers and the beach, etc. In England, this means nothing, but she wanted to coax as many of her new family to help us enjoy this American tradition.

We had it at the Rifleman, a proper British pub. We made our host family wear t-shirts emblazoned with American flags and we grilled hot dogs that came out of a jar and little burgers too small for the buns. We ate chips and chocolates and apple pies. We drank a lot of beer and hard cider and the party was well attended by family and friends alike. Janet's daughter has a great group of friends and family here in Nantwich and she is fortunate, but sometimes such traditions are hard to give up. We were happy to oblige.

Part of the day included British things though. Janet and I took a break from the drinking to watch the owner of the Rifleman, Fred, play Lawn Bowling in the park just across the street. We also played darts and later dominoes with Colin our host. He is the captain of his Red Cow Pub dominoes team, but he let me beat him in a game of threes and fives. Later that evening, when the night finally came we flew several hot air chinese laterns. The kids gathered around as we assembled and lighted the burners and cheered and gasped as they slowly ascended solemnly one by one into the dark sky. It was our last night in Nantwich and it was hard to say good-bye to all the friends and family and we lingered in embraces and uttered endearments of happy times and travels before we too slipped away into the night and quietly home.

recovering nicely?

The wedding was an expansive affair held at the Georgian Minstrels Ballroom of the Crown Hotel. Several factors kept the event from going too overboard. One was the skewed stairs that threatened to pitch revelers over the side with the slightest misstep. The other was the cash bar. This is evidently the tradition in England and a smart one too, because the party would get too out of hand otherwise. Still, there was much drunken debauchery and good natured mayhem. The event, which really was called a blessing for they were already legally married in the United States, lasted quite a long time. There were three parts and was typical of a British wedding, at least in Nantwich, Chesire....

The actual ceremony was traditional with a procession of bridesmaids and bride and started at 3:00. Only immediate family are usually invited to attend this part, but anyone who traveled to England from America was also allowed. The bride was aglow and all her friends from high school served as bridesmaids and her younger sister as the maid of honor. The blessing was given by a fellow who later claimed he had never done this before. He usually works these events as a "Toastmaster", adorned in a red coat and wielding a hammer to bang the table to get everyone's attention, but at this point he was serving as a justice of the peace. He wore a natty suit and was very nervous and kept getting the names wrong, but later we told him, to his great delight, he was much better than his counterpart back in the U.S.

The kids exchanged vows and afterwards we all retired to another room for drinks and then outside near the River Weaver for photographs.

The second part of the wedding began soon after with a meal. The Toastmaster was in his glory and kept making pronoucements and banging his little brass hammer. The pub upstairs in the room was open and if you wanted anything more than the glass of wine they served or the champagne for the toasts, it was a purchase. The Toastmaster banged his gavel, several people made speeches and we ate roast beef with Yorkshire pudding before the wedding party ended and the third part of this raucous event began.

They cleared most of the tables to form a dance floor and a rock band set up their equipment and from around 8:00 p.m. to sometime past 1:00 a.m. the place was filled with everyone at the wedding and any friends who wanted to come and a few stragglers. The band was comprised of their friends and they alternated sets with a DJ and as the night wore on more and more people came, some not even dressed for the wedding. One fellow who twitched appropriately on the dance floor had a blue mohawk streak through his otherwise bone white hair. It got more and more frenetic and the dancing a bit more spirited and shots of alcohol were slung back in toasts to the bride and groom and there was more drinking and dancing. At one point the hotel put out an assortment of finger foods in the other room and the revelers gorged themselves on fish sticks and quiches and pork pies and egg salad sandwiches before running out to the dance floor to dance off their alcohol. Long after the band packed up their gear the DJ had everyone hopping about. It was a lot of fun! But, some people got seriously drunk. Some of Janet's family were leaving in the morning....I don't know how they did it. For the rest of us Sunday came very late.



Along the canal in Nantwich, Chesire



Later, much later, Janet and I went for a walk along the canal nearby. There are thousands of miles of canals in England and many people use these long slender boats as a holiday getaway or in some cases a home. Many are enchanting with decorative touches of flowers either painted on the side or in pots on the top. We snuck looks in when we could and saw people eating or some relaxing on bank in lawn chairs. Boats can be rented for 99 lbs.. (that's sterling) for the day. We saw one boat coming back with kids drapped across the bow and on the roof and all gripping bottles of beer. It looked like a lot of fun too in the brilliant sunlight and the placid waters of the canal leading you through green fields.

A quieter life...

We only had one beer today, Sunday. Janet and I walked into town after dinner to the Bowling Green. Yet another pub! It is right on Monk's Lane. We had Old Speckled Hen Bitter and then happily strolled the dark streets arm in arm happy with the circumstances of our lives and the lives of our children.

running and rehearsals and gentlemen's clubs

Went for a run this morning. It's easy to do when you're jet lagged and your clock is screwed up. I got up earlier than I normally would and stepped out in the grey cold morning. Supposedly it is summer here; our hosts are talking about heat waves; but it's rather cold for us. It was in the high 80's at home.

Our hosts live in a little development on the edge of Nantwich and there is a large park on one end with a running track on the edge. This was helpful because I was fearful still of the traffic patterns. So, running on the path I could simply concentrate on running and not having to worry of the direction a car would come at me. Still, when the path neared the street it was still disconcerting because I've got cars coming at me the opposite way. Hopefully I'll get used to this soon, probably never enough to drive though.


After a loop and a half of the park, I followed the alley ways and paths we took to get into Nantwich proper just yesterday and loped along the leafy quiet Monk's Lane, past St. Mary's and the Crown and headed along the still quiet market street. I turned at the River Weaver and headed back towards home, past the outdoor pool and back to the park again, completing the loop in the opposite direction.

Later that afternoon Adam, Janet's present and future son-in-law, had to go to the Crown for some wedding particulars, and so the VFH crew went for another walkabout of Nantwich. Adam's father dragged us to the Nantwich museum, which is in an aging building across Pillory Street from our favorite fish and chips joint in Nantwich. It was free..... So we traipsed through the displays of pottery shards dating back to Roman times and a salt ship uncovered at an archeological dig. Our host then walked us through St. Mary's Church and the musty smelling artiface was haunting and beautiful and we were solemn in our ogling, up until he told us how as a boy he and friends had searched for an urban myth underground tunnel that supposedly allowed the Monks unseen access to St. Mary's. They were never successful in finding the tunnel, but did find the sacramental wine.

We then went to another pub. The Red Cow also serves Robinson's bitter, like the Rifleman. Robinson is Janet's maiden name and when her family members joined us they cooed happily at the brew. In the back of the bar there was a garden with a well maincured lawn, brilliant flowers, several cockatiels and african parrots in a large cage and two white chickens sashsaying around and getting underfoot. We caught up with Janet's brother and sister and their spouses and it was light and lovely. Janet then left for home with our host so she could change clothes for the rehearsal for the wedding while I tagged along with everyone to a local pub. I didn't order food, but sat and sipped a beer while the Robinson clan chatted away. I left then for the wedding rehearsal at the Crown. It was thanfully quick and then we retired to the restaurant downstairs for a pre wedding dinner and then later drinks in the hotel bar....

I would have been content to go home but it was Adam's "stag party", which means we drank a lot more. We parted ways with most of the wedding party and guests from America and our host dragged a few of us to the Men's Conservative Club, a gentleman's club. Julie, our host laughed derisively when her husband announced we were going to the club. She claimed it was like a brightly lighted fifties era front porch. But Colin said the drinks were cheap and his son, Greg, also was coming. Some of the American guests at the hotel thought we were going to a strip joint. That would have been a better destination, for the average age of the people at the club was dead (I'm stealing an old Freddie Roman joke...). It was bright and weathered and we were quite the different sort of clientel than the rest. Men played dominoes and cards and sagged in their bar stools, but it was nice and we met the piano player for the wedding, Bob. He was soft spoken and polite and it was said more than once he was very good, having played at one time for Rod Stewart. It was good to be here, for what better way to travel than to experience the society, the lifestyle, to talk with the people. Sure it's good to see the church, but what about how it was a playground for the local kids? I am fortunate. I am a fortunate traveler who appreciates the kindness of friends and strangers and understands and seeks out the lucky stroke of serendipity.

Nantwich...Just like I pictured it

Our travels to England started with our own version of a "magic bus"; a van ride to Newark; drinking beers along the way with the honorary members of the mooch crew. There were six others on this trip and we made sure they paid the necessary dues to gain entry to our exclusive traveling club (they had to at least chuckle at my jokes.) Then it was a somewhat cramped plane ride on a filled aircraft and then a caravan of cars that picked us up at Manchester Airport and drove us a half hour through some lovely countryside to Nantwich, Chesire where we are spending a good week with friends before moving on to our other destinations.

The main occasion of this particular trip was the second marriage of Janet's daughter. Yes...the second one to the same fellow. They met when she studied in Lancashire a couple of years ago. The "second marriage" is a VFH worthy manuever to save money on the expensive British visas. Had the girl simply emigrated to England, she would have had to purchase an engagement visa and then a marriage visa. Now they only have to pay for one, saving a substantial amount of money in the process. They married last September and they must still love each other because they want to go through this all again. They live in a flat in Liverpool, but his parents live in Nantwich and this is where the wedding is being held. His parents attended the wedding in the fall and stayed at Janet's and now are returning the favor by allowing us to stay an their place here in England.

I know, I know...it all sounds whirl-about complicated, and with the amount of beer we consumed yesterday on our triumphant arrival, things can get a little more than blurry.
After settling in at the neat, trim home, the wedding party girls all headed out for a "hen-do" in Liverpool. It is what they call the Bachelorette Party here. Hopefully no one gets a new tattoo.

After they left we sat for awhile in the back yard sipping beers and caught up. I have come to know and love the in-laws in England as my own. They are wonderful people, but we were unprepared for the massive wood pigeons that lumbered in and out of the tree in the backyard. They are twice the size of the sky rats back home and each time the rattled the limbs we flinched. The husband/fiance said these critters were edible...ugh.

When then began our Nantwich pub crawl. The groom and his parents led us through many of the walkways and alleys of Nantwich. It is a walking town and we marveled at the compact living conditions and the well-maintained gardens everywhere. They do more with a wedge of land than I can with all my property. Soon we walked the leafy Monks Lane that was once used by...monks ... The lane ended by St. Mary's Church. Soon we passed along Monks Lane and we marveled at the beautiful 700+ year old church, considerd by some as the finest example of a medieval era church in all of England. Many pictures drawings of Nantwich feature St. Mary's. Our first drink was at the Crown Hotel, where the wedding is to be held. The black and white hotel is over 400 years old and just on the other side of the square from the church. We giggled over the listing walls and staircases of the place that was rebuilt in 1584 after a devastating fire that leveled most of Nantwich. We drank a beer (or two) taking great care to not lean against the walls, as they were leaning back. There actually is a section of the wall exposed to show the wattle and daub type of construction of the walls.

The next pub was the Vine Inn on Hospital Street, just a stumble away, where we all had a very creamy Manchester Bitter, part of the Hyde's Brewery. Thankfully we had a number of English translators with us so the turned heads were out of curiousity and not derision with having invaded their private little world, although our guide/translator did not say hello to anyone. He has lived in Nantwich all of his life too and you can't walk down a block without saying hello to at least one person.

We thought our last pub was the Rifleman, or The Gun, as the boys called it for short. But it was just the last stop. According to the owner, Fred, a brother-in-law to the groom's mother, it is "a proper English pub". There we had a very good bitter called Robinsons. What Fred meant by the proper pub remark was that many pubs will serve just one beer and you go to that pub for that brew. Robinson's for instance actually owns the building and Fred runs the Gun. Other places with a revolving pub list don't have as loyal a clientel. Whatever, it's never that serious, especially when it's the fourth or fifth stop on the night. Everything though is on a hand pump and served at room or cellar temperature. Yum...thankfully though the beer is never more than 4.5% alcohol. We lingered at the Rifleman, the father's favorite place, over some ribald conversation and darts....before heading back to the Crown for a few more....

ouch....

Nantwich is an ancient town, dating back a good 1,000 years and was noteworthy for the production of salt. Going back to the Roman times it was discovered a spring was running salt water and that would be evaporated to leave the salt. This is an important commodity for preserving food, etc. and the town prospered. It then burnt down in the mid 1500's. The Queen at the time allowed the Royal woods to be used to rebuild the city. So far it's a lovely town. The people are friendly and it's worth the visit....especially since we're staying here for free!
www.nantichweb.com/history