My Love Affair with Bruges

INTRODUCTION Returning, returning, always returning to Bruges… Is it so very strange to think that I could have existed here long, long ago? Right here at the Beguinage, a protected place for me back then? And now today, I feel that same peacefulness and protection. Black clouds moving across the sky, a slight wind blowing the trees, red-tiled roofs, a few birds flying swiftly past my window... Where am I? Why do I feel so content, so secure? I feel like a baby being held in loving arms. Why am I constantly being drawn back? What is time? Many events could be taking place at the same time in different places, different periods in history. One-dimensional living is so insignificant. How do I enter that world? I was here before. I know I was. I can feel it. Every so often, I catch that whiff of it but it comes so swiftly, I almost miss it. When it happens, I want to hold on to it much longer but it can be so elusive. How do I go back? Listen for the bells. Go back. Go far back. Draw back the curtain. Let me see. ------------------------------------------------------- I need to write about my love for Bruges. I need to tell the story of this love affair. When reading Frances Mayes’ book, Under the Tuscan Sun, a sentence hit me with such a force and stayed with me. It was: “Never casual, the sense of place is something you crave.” What is there in Bruges that I crave? Is it the sense of protection, of close set buildings along the narrow streets, without tall buildings creating wind tunnels? Buildings feel smaller except for the magnificent churches. Winding streets, nothing straight-lined and laid out in precise north, south, east and west directions. Canals, with majestic swans claiming ownership, huge ancient trees, and always the sound of church bells... What do I crave there? Whatever it is, I get it there! I feel so in-the-moment and peacefulness resides within me. I do not feel like a tourist; I feel like I live there. People even ask me for directions! Why can’t I keep that feeling for long periods when I’m back in Canada? Holiday feelings are different, you say. Yes, I realize that but this goes deeper than holiday feelings. No holiday feelings have had this much impact. As Frances Mayes says, in Under the Tuscan Sun, “Once in a place, that journey to the far interior of the psyche begins or it doesn’t. Something must make it yours, that ineffable “something” – no book can capture.” Do I feel the past within me as I walk the streets of Bruges? Is it the medieval time that I feel? I do not feel that “whatever” when I walk in my city in Canada. In Bruges, I hear it softly calling to me. But I want the calling to be louder. I long to slip back into the medieval world. I must just be grateful for the continual experience of Bruges and thankful that it can always evoke the same feeling within me, a feeling that spreads throughout my body and gives me deep peace and much joy. CHAPTER 1 - Two Stops Before Norway Ed and I made our first trip to Europe in 1969 and enjoyed it immensely. In 1982, we start to discuss going on another trip to Europe. Ed says, “I’d like to go to Norway this time.” “Oh, you want to explore your roots. Check out your Viking heritage!” He laughs. ”Well, I need to do it soon while there are still relatives there to contact.” “Ed, all you need to do is to get the information from your Mom about your relatives in Norway. But I’ll start reading about Norway and also about other places we might like to go.” Ed is not the avid reader that I am but he is happy for me to give him information as we travel. As it turns out, our geologist daughter Debbie, who lives in Calgary, also expresses an interest in seeing Norway so we arrange for her to meet us in Oslo. Ed says, “With her height and her love of the outdoors, Debbie will fit right in with the Norwegians.” While researching, I become fascinated with a medieval city in Belgium called Bruges. The inner city, surrounded by a canal, has been preserved with buildings and bridges dating back to the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth centuries. It intrigues me as I had never heard of it and the more I read about it, the more I feel I would love to include it in our trip, and even spend a few days there. “When would we do that?” asks Ed when I tell him about it. “Well, we could take the Wardair flight to Amsterdam and explore that city for a few days, then rent a car and drive to Bruges. Afterwards we could return to Amsterdam for our train journey to Copenhagen and on to Norway.” “Okay, I’ll go with that. Will we need to make reservations in Bruges?” “No, I don’t believe that many people know about it. I’ve never heard of it and from what I’ve read, it is just a quiet medieval town.” In May, we fly eight hours to Amsterdam. I like the vibrancy of the Amsterdam airport as we get our luggage, catch a bus into the city and then take a taxi to our small hotel. Our room is not large but has two lovely windows opening onto a garden with a huge chestnut tree and I can hear birds singing. Our first time in Amsterdam! Ed asks, “Would you like to go for a short walk?” “No, I only got a few hours sleep on the plane, so I’m ready for a nap. But you go ahead and I’ll have a walk with you later.”