A bit of Bruges

We were really starting to get tired by the time we left Amsterdam. I've never walked as much in my life as we did in our first 10 days in Europe. Carmen's knee was really sore (not that she ever complained about it) and we were really, really starting to miss Cate and Maggie.

The train from Amsterdam to Rosendahl, and then the connection to Heide, felt surreal. It was a dreary morning and the Dutch countryside was covered in fog. You get used to being surrounded by a different culture and language, but the scenery never seems to get old. For the second time in three days, we hung out at the Rosendahl train station, with nothing to do but take pictures of bikes, and nothing to eat but the ham and cheese sandwiches in the vending machine.






Peit and Carla, bless their collective heart, picked us up at the train station in Heide and drove us across Belgium to one of the oldest cities in Europe: Bruges (or Brugge, or Bruge). This was our first choice of places we wanted to visit when we were planning out trip, and probably the one we were looking forward to the most.







This was the view from our hotel room:




And this was our walk from the hotel to the city centre:






On the second day, we woke up from church bells across the street, and walked outside to see the locals in their Sunday best. This picture could've been taken 200 years ago:









We splurged on our last meal. It only took us about 90 minutes of wandering and reading menus before we decided where to go. I'll make a separate post for the food and beer of Bruges. It's worth it.



Another Begijnfhof (amazing experience - more to come on this, too):




The more I look at pictures from this trip, the more it blows my mind that I experienced these places with my beautiful wife. Wandering cities like Bruges, making life plans, talking about our girls, seeing the world ... best. vacation. ever.










I haven't even talked about Bruges beer yet. Or waffles. Or chocolate. I guess I'll have to do that later. Keep checking.