Flanders to Bruges

In Flanders' fields the poppies grow .... and so they do! A red so sudden it makes your blood stop! (Yes, that is a quotation too).

After breakfast we headed north towards Belgium, initially driving through very pretty countryside, down country lanes, past little churches with their slate spires, figures of Christ crucified on the outskirts of each village. Our original plan was to drive to Ypres but as the morning journey was so slow we thought we had better drive directly to Bruges. After morning coffee at St Omer and stopping for groceries and fuel we arrived about 3pm.

Bruges
Bruges central streets are narrow and cobbled and there are no straight lines so we were glad of our GPS which took us directly to the door of our building. (Our inbuilt car GPS stopped working at the French border!) Marc, our landlord, ran up and down the stairs with our heavy cases, welcomed us with beer, chocolates and an enormous bowl of fruit. He gave us information about the apartment and about the city.
The enchanting apartment with its fascinating layout and decor was home to the producer of the film 'In Bruges". As we were warned there could be heavy traffic on our way, we left for Charleroi airport to collect Jan and Barry who were flying in from Manchester.

Marc was right about the traffic. We moved in fits and starts, but speeded up again after leaving the outskirts of Brussels.
There was a brief heavy shower of rain, our first, in otherwise warm sunny weather. Jan and Barry arrived looking bright and well. Concerned that we might arrive too late in Bruges to go out to dinner, we bought salad and ham rolls to take away.

Our journey back was, however, much faster, with the traffic going towards Brussels almost at a standstill. Back at the apartment, Marc welcomed us all and again ran up the steep narrow stairs with Jan and Barry's cases.
We settled in, ate our light tea, then headed out for Markt, the main square only 250 metres from our house.

The massive belfry towers over everything, the pretty square lined with Flemish style stepped gables and lots of lively cafes.
We walked around the streets, reading restaurant menus for future reference. Finally we returned to the square, and although warned by Marc that the central cafes were tourist rip-offs, we succumbed to the promise of hot chocolate drinks. Our bustling earnest waiter (a Belgian characteristic, I think) settled us down and we drank hot chocolates and Barry had a supposed cappuccino (actually back coffee with whipped cream) and a small apple pastry dessert. That little lot cost 30Euros (about $55 Aust!).

The Flemish word for whipped cream is 'slagroom'. I've never been keen on whipped cream and that word just about sums it up!