Disappearing Cobblestones
Guide
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Guide 〰️
It has been reported that the municipality of that medieval-romance dream town, Bruges, keeps losing its cobblestones. Pocketing a stone or two is really just pilgrim behaviour updated for the age of modern tourism: in the Middle Ages believers chiselled souvenirs from Jerusalem’s paving; now weekenders lift a rounded set-stone from beside the Dijver. Surprisingly, Bruges, unlike Jerusalem, has no syndrome named after it — an oversight perhaps, because this Venice of the North remains a magical and somewhat entrancing place. This summer it will once again be Belgium’s most visited destination. Locals shrug (‘too many tourists, and anyway it’s always there’), yet the town, watched over by its step-gabled skylines and rickety carillons, still radiates authentic charm.
For accommodation, the Hotel De Tuilerieën is, beyond doubt, the house you want. Inside, a mellow duet of creams and Wedgwood blues sets a tranquil mood, while outside a slip of terrace kisses the canal. Rooms on the top floor offer their own kind of magic, allowing guests to survey the beautiful spires of the city’s churches and overhear the bells that ring gently there in the afternoon. Breakfast unfolds beneath espaliered pear trees: a silver pot of coffee and waffles covered in sugar powder and clouds of Chantilly. You eat, you promenade and watch the well-fed swans practising indifference, and Bruges begins to feel privately yours.
Cultural pursuits start at the Groeningemuseum, locus of Early Netherlandish painting, where Jan van Eyck’s Madonna with Canon van der Paele greets visitors in sublime fashion. Look closely and St George’s polished shield reveals a tiny self-portrait of the artist — a clever optical trick. The remainder of the galleries opens up like an illuminated manuscript; whether you admire Hugo van der Goes’s bold acidic hues or complex Boschian iconography, you will find something to look closely at. May I suggest that Jan Provoost’s Death and the Miser, too, should merit your attention, for it is a strikingly unusual painting that poses more riddles than it provides answers to a contermporary onlooker. A short walk across the courtyard (one of the joys of a town you can cross in twenty minutes) stands the Sint-Janhospitaal, a former infirmary housing Hans Memling’s celebrated Last Judgement triptych. Its narrative richness (the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse alone deserve lingering scrutiny) is accompanied by displays on medieval medicine, offering a rare chance to appreciate Memling’s art in situ.
Next to Sint-Janhospitaal there is a picturesque bridge (one of the many, of course) with a beautiful tiny garden connected to it. This hortus concludes (enclosed garden) is accessible through one of the narrow passageways, so it is my strong recommendation to wonder around the stone maze. If it is your desire to admire more nature, go to the Minnerwaterpark and sit by the river. Perhaps take your embroidery with you, or a book — it is a lovely place to stay at for a second.
For more sightseeing I would recommend the Church of Our Lady, which houses two incredibly well-made effigies, that of Duke Charles the Bold, last Valois Duke of Burgundy, and his daughter Mary of Burgundy, the Duchess whose marriage to Maximilian of Austria brought the Burgundian lands into Habsburg hands. Mary’s tomb is particularly beautiful: the perfectly smooth slab of black marble is surrounded by brass metalwork that features details of her lineage on the sides and captures the most intricate initials on the hem of her dress. In the same church there is a curiosity that leads to another: the Van Gruuthuse family balcony, a wooden gallery that links their house directly to the nave and once allowed its occupants to attend Mass without stepping outside. Much like a private opera box, the snug wooden niche looks positively cosy from within, and the adjoining Gruuthusemuseum still preserves an impressive array of works of art and late-fifteenth-century decorum.
Picking up souvenirs here is inevitably seductive. Particularly enticing are Chocolaterie Sukerbuyc and Chocolaterie Mary, purveyors of silken truffles in elegant boxes. Lace, too, remains a local glory. Seek the blue Handmade in Brugge seal at ’t Apostelientje, where you will find the best ivory-coloured lace coasters and dainty cobweb bookmarks. I got away with a lace strip of butterflies that now adds a touch of arranged prettiness to my kitchen cupboard.
Evenings invite liquid exploration, we are in Belgium after all. Until Bruges I had never encountered the ‘fantastic beer horn’, but the town’s beer lists eclipse many a St James’s wine bible. Succumbing to curiosity, I traded my habitual Chardonnay for Westfalle served in that ceremonious horn —an experience to behold (and to hold, quite carefully), rewarding both palate and photograph. Traditional beer stews merit equal attention, and the fare at Gambrinus proves warming and generous.
Sweet cravings meet their match in waffles. Bruges, a city running on sugar, venerates two shrines: Lizzie’s, beloved by locals for plate-sized waffles buried beneath icing snow, and Otto Waffle Atelier, where batter is piped into an antique iron that stamps it into a rosette crisp as spun ice, ready for adornments of dark chocolate and strawberries.
When the sun drops, day-trippers file back to their trains and Bruges exhales: bells toll, swans hiss, and the remaining cobbles gleam under the lamps.
