Begging? Yup. I left my wallet in the cabin safe. Most day tours are two or three hours long, but our excursion to the medieval city of Bruges was an all-day affair. The tour director, who accompanied our group, rescued us with a supply of euros.
There are three nearly remarkably preserved medieval cities in Europe: Rothenberg in Germany, Český Krumlov in the Czech Republic, and Bruges in Belgium. (There are numerous smaller towns with this distinction, such as Eguisheim in the Alsace, France.) How did these cities remain medieval in architecture through war and modernization? By being poor for four centuries, so poor and lacking in importance that the tides of change and fortunes of war by-passed them. Bruges is thriving today, of course, but from the 12th to the 15th centuries the city was one of the most prosperous ports and centers of commerce in Europe.
As an aside, Frances and I have visited all three medieval cities—Rothenberg and Bruges several times. But if you ever find yourself in southern Bohemia, ensure you include a stop in Český Krumlov in your itinerary. It’s a jewel and, when we were there, somewhat less inundated with tourists than are Rothenberg and Bruges.
Not that all of medieval Bruges is overrun by visitors. After several hours of an excellent tour of the primary sights, we had the rest of the day to explore the town. We decided to walk to the location of the boutique hotel we stayed at in 2015. It’s still there and still a delightful little inn where the streets were uncrowded. On our way back from that walk we were hailed by a man attempting to back out of his garage. He got out of his car and began speaking to us in Dutch. We did not interrupt and it took him a moment to realize we were not comprehending anything he was saying. “Why didn’t you stop me?” he finally asked, in english. (Do we take it as a compliment that he said we didn’t look like Americans?) He was asking us to help him back into the street by watching for cyclists, which we did—but not before he invited us to dinner. Sadly, we, of course, had to decline. We didn’t have the money to purchase flowers as dinner guests anyway.
While we carried box lunches provided by Gate1, we did use our borrowed money to purchase a sampler selection of Belgian beer. This worked out well as Frances and I were split in our choices of favorites, so finished them all. Belgian fries were our side dish. Thus far we have been informed three times that what Americans call French fries are, in fact, a Belgian creation. It seems that the first fries were “discovered” by American soldiers during World War I in the French speaking part of Belgium, hence the appellation “French”. Americans never were very good with geography. Regardless, if you want fries in Belgium, you’ll get them with mayonnaise instead of catsup.
Our timing with the weather was perfect. The threatened rain held off until our return to the buses and our trip back to the Empress. Sometimes it’s better to be lucky than good.