Firstly, we did not die in Hanover... Apologies for the dramatic cliffhanger. A psychologist might say I'm combatting my unwillingness to admit our European trip has come to an end... Alex might say I'm a lazy monkey. You're free to take your pick!
The weather in Bruges could've been better but the temperature, generally, stayed above 5 degrees & we were pretty happy with that. We spent close to a week in the well-preserved, romantic town, eating fudge, frites & waffles & climbing Belfries - to work it all off, lol.
Bruges seduced us with it's cheap-as-chips canal cruises & superstition-laced lake of love, aka Minne Water. Naturally, most tourists were equally smitten & we felt fairly insignificant among the many admirers. At the other end of the spectrum, tourists showed minimal interest in the Onze Lieve Vrouwekerk, which exhibited a marble Madonna & Child sculpture by Michelangelo. We basically had the place all to ourselves, as you'll probably notice from our pics.
Speaking of religious attractions, we found another precious keepsake in the Basilica of the Holy Blood. The name sorta gives it away, but it's where Jesus' actual blood is said to be kept. Being oblivious to the opening hours, as per usual, we arrived just in time to offer our donation & get a quick glimpse of the glass-encased, holy blood. What made it quite special, we thought, was that the Basillica itself was unexpectedly modest & unaltered (pardon the pun) for a site that holds such valuable, religious sentiment.
Bruges wasn't exactly kind to us weather wise but, nevertheless, we grew very attached to the place - treat 'em mean, keep 'em keen! We enjoyed the fact that credit cards weren't accepted at most cafes & that tourists were shooed away when lines got too long. It might be a popular holiday destination but both the land & locals seem to be untarnished by the intrusion.
Sarah
Part 2...
Well, we're back on GB soil with a brand new electric heater from Argos to take the chill off the English air - best £10 we've ever spent! Bruges was close to becoming a permanent residence, while we tried to savour the last of our European adventure. However, after losing a whole afternoon to Macca's wifi, we decided it was time to take Dory back across the channel.
The relaxing ferry ride from Dunkirk to Dover on Friday was preceded by a full day of drama. We arrived at the port completely flustered after Tommy prompted a wrong turn & cost us the 2 o'clock departure. Next, Alex battled with customer service over the phone for half an hour, as tickets had been a third of the price online & we'd tried to book the night before. As is normally the case, persistence saw that we got our way, yay! And lastly, I was warned by UK Border Control that they had the right to refuse me entry into the country, based on my expired visa (oops). Luckily, I already had a one way ticket Down Under!
Our current campsite is near Croydon, which just passes as 'South' London on the map. We chose this place because it hugs the perimeter of the LEZ but it's not the most convenient base. After a 15 minute trudge through mud, crops & cow territory, a 20 minute bus ride takes us to the closest community, Redhill (chav central) - The appeal being Chai & Caramel Lattes, a cosy library with handy resources & a charity shop to inherit our excess baggage. Sadly, they couldn't accept Alex =).
With Dory now auctioned off on eBay, we anxiously await our fate. Iain collects our old girl tomorrow, after which we'll be officially vanless, homeless &, once again, at the mercy of TFL (Transport For London). She's served us well & it'll be hard to hand over the reins of our trusty steed; however, her glory days are well & truly over & she's needed as a work-horse for towing racecars across England. Good luck Dorza... God speed!! =)
Sarah
