In Bruges

Yes, I’m actually in Bruges. It’s not just a pun to the movie bearing the same name. The medieval town feels like a description from a fairy tale, with cobbled streets and winding alleys.

The canal at Rozenhoedkaai.

Oh well, who am I trying to fool? Time to ascend the Belfry and try not my best to call any tourists “a bunch of fuckin’ elephants”, like Ray did in the movie. Or at least refrain from using the rudest word in the universe, according to the Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy.

Belgium. There, I said it.

Looking for elephants around the Belfry.

Time to behave. I walk along the canals, acting as Bruges’ veins. The cobblestones underfoot remind me that people have walked here for centuries. I walk into churches with stone saints staring down centuries. I order Pannepot, a beer so dark it look like nightfall, and let the stained glass windows paint me with color.

Bruges isn’t just pretty, it’s beautiful and haunted. As always, Ray will have the last word:

“But then, like a flash, it came to me. And I realized, fuck man, maybe that’s what hell is: the entire rest of eternity spent in fuckin’ Bruges. And I really really hoped I wouldn’t die.”
— Ray, In Bruges (2008)

Well, it could be worse.