We caught the 08.27am Eurostar train from Waterloo to Brussels, hoping to make the most of the day. The journey was smooth and quick, although not quick enough thanks to the pair of whining children a couple of seats away.

The scenery was less than exciting too. That part of Northern France is somewhat empty and featureless, but Belgium combines that with being flat and ordered too. There is something claustrophobic about straight lines of straight trees and a lack of naturalism.

We were soon on the train to Brugge (Bruges) and arrived there at about 12.27pm local time (1 hour ahead of the UK).

We knew from the maps that the hotel wasn't too far from the Markt (market square) so we hopped on a bus going there. There seem to be buses going there every few minutes and it was only a few minutes before we disembarked onto a large square.

I was getting hungry and suggested we ate before finding the hotel. It seemed a good idea to try for the Café Craenenburg mentioned in the "Rough Guide to Belgium." It wasn't there and it began to dawn on me that we weren't where we thought we were. It was a square, but it was the wrong one. Turns out it was called t' Zand. It is a bleak looking place with a large statue in the middle and not much else.

There are a number of hotels surrounding t' Zand, some with conservatories on the front. We plumped for Boudwijn 1, expecting very little, except to fill a hole. The interior was rather elegant; somewhat Edwardian in character. Most of the clientele were Flemish, but still we did not feel reassured. In England, it's the sort of place where you would pay too much for bland, unimaginative food served by staff who are seedy-looking or have to ask the cook whenever you enquire about the menu.

We quickly realised that Belgium is a bit dearer than the UK. Even moules frites are 40-50% cheaper in the UK, but the hotel waiter recommended the Dag menu (Menu of the Day), which was home-made tomato soup, followed by rumpsteak in green pepper sauce and frites. At 325 BEF (Belgian francs) it was a bargain, equivalent to £5.37 sterling. It was all delicious too. There are nice touches too, like chocolates and tiny sponge cakes with your coffee.

After the meal we took about 10 minutes to find the Hotel Jacobs in Baliestraat 1. It is a traditional looking building in a quiet location. This was another Rough Guide recommendation and a good one.

The bed was very comfortable, plenty of hot water and a better than average buffet breakfast.

The next couple of hours were spent chilling out and planning the evening. There are 14 restaurants recommended in the guide, so we decided on a handful to look up. It was also a good opportunity to get ourselves orientated. The walk to the Markt took about 7 minutes through quiet streets and over a canal through Spanjaardstraat and Academiestraat. First stop was at Brasserie Georges in Vlamingstraat. We didn't like the look of it, a bit too touristy. We also passed Taverna Curiosa in the same street. It was popular in it's basement location, but the menu was quite limited.

There was time to look around the Markt with it’s tall clock tower, open horse carriages and numerous cafés. We spotted the Café Craenenburg in the north-west corner. It does have interesting wood panelling inside and a nice outside seating area, which was full. Most of the clientele were there for the beer and to watch the world and his wife passing by. The wrong sort of atmosphere for an evening meal.

L'Intermede in Wulfhagestraat sounded like the best of the bunch, so we looked it up. This time it was too formal and quite pricey. We were getting to the stage where it looked like a bag of frites and a gob full of chocolates were all we were going to get. As a last resort we decided to have a beer before checking out Café Beethoven in Sint Amandsstraat. The bar was next door to the café and was tiny. The rugby world cup final between France and Australia was on the TV, drawing little more than mild curiosity from a couple of locals, but the few English tourists there were not letting the beer distract them.

Around 6.30pm, we got a table in Beethoven and settled in for the evening. It is also tiny and has about 6 tables all told. The atmosphere is intimate and cosy, with a large artificial log fire powered by gas, which looks good nevertheless.

The house red is excellent and at 325 BEF, terrific value. Louise went for pan-fried fish which was OK, but didn't thrill her. I had the paling in t'groen (eels in a green herb sauce). It is definitely an acquired taste, but luckily I acquired it after the first mouthful and enjoyed it. The warm apple tart afterwards was uninspired. Coffee is almost always good here, but the oud jenever (old gin) was fabulous and a very generous measure.

We thought we would follow the canal back towards the hotel. After walking for over 1.6km (1 mile) it dawned on us that it was the wrong canal. It was quite an atmospheric walk though. It was Saturday night, just after 8pm and deadly quiet. The streets were empty and we suspected the Brugians were already in bed.

Sunday started iron-grey in the morning, but that was no obstacle to a good day out here. Going down to breakfast in the hotel was a bizarre experience. Never in England have I heard "Land of Hope and Glory" being played in a bed and breakfast establishment, but here they even had a version from the last night of the Proms. The room was full of other Europeans and they must have been as bemused as we were, especially when a couple of old dears started singing along with the music. The breakfast buffet was good, but still a dismal affair compared to a full English.

Soon after, the weather cleared and we explored the town on foot. We had seen the alternatives, the horse-drawn carriages, motor-launches and city-minibuses, but didn't want to become a spectacle ourselves or miss the real hidden streets.

T' Zand is a good place to start from. The modern statue in the middle represents the four cities of Flanders with cyclists, fishermen and your guess is as good as mine.

Old bridge, Brugge.jpg (68922 bytes) Canal and bridge.

I could give you a route to follow, but you may be daft enough to stick to it at all cost, instead of enjoying the delights of each aspect you come across, and in your own time. Besides, it hardly matters where you go, it will be full of discovery. The Gouden Handrei has a number of 14th -16th century buildings lining the canal. Blekerstraat has a wonderful pub, "The Oude Vlissinghe" dating from 1555AD with a long wooden table down the middle, seating about 30 people.

We spent quite a while admiring buildings and canal scenes along Rosenhuidkaai and the Dijver.

Near the fish square.jpg (58742 bytes) By the Dijver.     

An "international" antiques festival had all of the junk and tat you wouldn't want in your house.

After all that walking about we were a little hungry, so tried another Rough Guide suggestion, Erasmus. It is an attractive brasserie, part of the Hotel Erasmus. The food looked good, but rather pricey. We wanted to save our appetites until the evening meal, so ordered soup and beer. The soup came with one tiny bread roll between us. It took two determined attempts to get another roll. The manager seemed really aggrieved to be asked. Louise would have eaten there again, but I have an aversion to small portions.

The rest of the afternoon was spent strolling down to the Minnewater, known locally as the "Lake of Love," before we thought to visit the windmills at the end of the Langerei. They were just a bit too far away, as it started to get dark before we got to Snaggaerdstraat, so we went back to the hotel.

Minnewater Lake.jpg (65220 bytes) Minnewater Lake.

After a brief rest, we decided on eating at the Hotel Boudwijn again. The game shooting season was on and they had pheasant and hare on the menu. You had to have a serving for two though and as Louise does not like hare, we had pheasant. We had a starter of smoked salmon and halibut. Very good, not too salty and lightly smoked.

The rest of the clientele were, as before, mainly local Flemings. The ambience was very relaxed despite the formal looking décor. There is just one criticism. I was looking forward to getting away from a colleague's obsession with singing or humming Tom Jones songs. I was mortified when "Delilah" suddenly came on the sound system. I couldn't have put it better myself; Why, why, why Delilah?

The pheasant came out of a small copper vessel, was jointed on a wooden board at the table and put back in the vessel. After the endives and seared brussels sprouts were served up, the pheasant pieces were added. It really was delicious and complemented by a decent '98 Bordeaux, Le Relais de Cheval Blanc. Despite the name it is a red.

We finished off with a couple of fabulous desserts. Louise had the Sabayon maison, a mixture of fresh fruit, sabayon and a bucketful of Grand Marnier. It really was wonderful.

I later had an oud jenever there, but it was not a patch on yesterday's offering at Beethoven.

The evening was finished off by another unintentional tour of some back streets, led by the confused one (me), followed by the clueless one (Louise).

Backwater, Brugge.jpg (63960 bytes) A backwater in Brugge.

We did make one interesting discovery nevertheless. A sign hung over a corner house with "Tom's Diner" on it. We peered into the diner, a conversion from someone's living room, to see it was packed out with mostly couples, sitting at a number of tables. The impression was of intimacy and although each table was lit by a candle, there was a buzz and vibrant informality about the place. There are no menus outside or any other indication that there is a restaurant there, apart from the sign. When we revisited it during the day, it was like a house again, but with all the curtains drawn. It was in West Gistelhof, close to our hotel.

Local people we spoke to told us the diner is very popular with them, but the menu is limited and simple. Things like cod and leeks and steak etc….

Monday we designated cultural day. First stop was the Heilig Bloed Basiliek in the Burg. The Burg is a square with some beautifully ornate buildings on it's southern flank. The Heilig Bloed Basiliek is the building which houses the crystal phial reputed to contain some drops of Christ's blood. The interior of the building is heavily ornate in the way that Roman Catholic churches on the continent often are.

Entrance to the Berg.jpg (61514 bytes) Entrance to the Berg.      The Berg, Brugge.jpg (64120 bytes) The Berg.

On the opposite side of the Burg we saw an Information sign and went to browse for anything worth seeing. They did have some leaflets for the diamond museum, which we thought we would visit later.

On the way out we noticed an exhibition in another part of the building. As we walked in, a gentleman with wild-looking white hair approached us and excitedly described his works in Flemish. He looked a bit surprised when I asked him "Spreekt u Engels? Luckily his daughter was on hand to explain what he wanted to say. I think he was the only person we met who did not speak English. I've never been called on to try my hand at Flemish before and there is little incentive when the Flemish speak English with such fluency and lightness of accent.

The paintings were a mixture of landscapes and portraits. We noticed a few looked like him and asked if they were. His daughter replied that they were all family portraits. At that point she left us to return to her desk. As we entered the next section there were a trio of nudes. Louise thought that two of them were of the daughter. I was a bit sceptical, but took a surreptitious second look. She was right. There is something a bit disconcerting about fathers painting their daughters in the nude, but then I sometimes feel artists inhabit a different universe from the rest of us.

We headed off to the diamond museum, but got waylaid by a brigand dressed in purple 15th century costume. We agreed to have our photo taken together and pay a ransom of 250 BEF to get away with a calendar with us enclosed within a large love-heart. We fought over who should keep it. I won, so Louise now has it. She has been getting her own back by displaying it to family and friends when I am around.

The delay almost caused us to miss the daily demonstration of diamond cutting and polishing in the diamond museum in Oude Gentweg. It really was a fascinating half-hour (actually stretching to 50 minutes). It gives some idea of how hard diamonds are when you realise it takes three days to cross-cut a 3mm diamond.

The museum itself has some examples of diamonds cut into unusual shapes other than old traditional cut and the later brilliants. It also gives an unstuffy historical perspective on the subject of diamonds. It's well worth a visit.

All that learning was draining my brain, so we headed for Poules-Moules (Chicken-Mussels) in Simon Stevinplein for lunch. It wasn't until we were well into our buckets of mussels that I wondered why chicken did not really feature on the menu. It should have dawned on me when we got the bill, but that only confused the issue. It was headed by Simon Stevin instead of Poules-Moules, but I put that down to it being the name of the square the restaurant was in.

There is a large frontage before the restaurant and two blackboards giving the daily menu. It happens that if you are too intent on studying the menu, you are likely to end up in the wrong restaurant. Both doorways are close together and it looks like the same place, given a cursory glance. Mind you, the upstairs room of Simon Stevin was a good place to eat lunch and the food was very good.

Groeninge Museum in Dyver. This houses the largest collection of early Flemish paintings anywhere and the main art collection of the city. The early works follow an almost exclusively religious theme. Even the portraits tend to adopt a sacred pose. Only in much later works, such as "The Peasant Lawyer" by Peter Breugel the Younger do you see a glimpse of everyday life in Flanders.

There is an unfettered barbarity about many of the early works and Louise felt rather disquieted by a painting of the corrupt Persian judge Cambyses being flayed alive.

The portraits are of such quality that they give life to the subjects. Many of them have a familiar look to them and you can imagine them to be locals of today.

The museum houses art right through to the modern era, some good, some indifferent. We spent 2.5 hours there and would have stayed a little longer, but it was time for the museum to shut up shop.

As an aside, the famous Arnolfini Marriage by Jan van Eyck was painted in Brugge, but is presently on show in the National Gallery in London.

We considered another attempt to see the windmills, but it got dark before we were anywhere them, so back to the hotel we went to rest a while.

The meal on Sunday night was so good, we agreed it wasn't worth risking an inferior meal for the sake of discovery, so we wandered back to Boudewijn 1. This time we took a slightly different route via Dweersstraat. Half way through we came across a restaurant, which is part of the Passage Hotel. It was full and very lively looking. We were almost tempted, as it was one of very few places both open and busy on a Monday night, but the menu wasn't as seductive as Boudewijn's.

We had the same meal as before and it was as good too. The meal was long drawn out and so relaxing.

There were eight other diners as I recall, so the waiter wasn't exactly rushed off his feet and sometimes stopped for a chat. Both the waiters here are very friendly, bright and interesting to talk to.

I tried three different fruit gins after dinner. A couple were a little like sloe-gin and quite warming.

The next morning, after receiving our morning salute of "Land of Hope and Glory" and breakfast, the receptionist warned us that the Belgian railworkers were on strike. If we were lucky, we might get a train to Brussels to catch our Eurostar connection. We wasted no time calling a taxi and got to Brugge station 15 minutes before the only announced train for Brussels that morning.

We had some three hours to explore Brussels and have lunch before catching our connection. The exterior of the station was one huge building site. We managed to make our way into an Arabic area which looked rather run down, but then the rest of the general environs looked much the same.

We considered looking for one the famous seafood restaurants for lunch, but it started to rain. Louise headed straight for the nearest equivalent of a greasy spoon café and made it plain she was not budging from there. It was heaving with office workers and did a good trade. The food was much better than an English greasy spoon, so I wasn't too disappointed. I had a fillet steak with a choice of sauce (tarragon) and Louise had a salad with grilled goat's cheese, three of them.

On the way back we tried to buy chocolates, but found the quality in Brussels wasn't as good as in Brugge. We tried a supermarket for old gin, but it had a very poor selection of everything. All I got were some fresh dates.

It's common knowledge that on the continent there are very few public toilets. If you want to go, you use the toilets in cafés. I tried out the principle, but got a lecture on my way out by the manageress, who told me I was lacking in courtesy. I tried to tell her I was also desperate, but her English was worse than my French.

We got on the train with 5 minutes to spare. The air conditioning did not work, but we were thankful, because the previous Eurostar was cancelled due to the strike.

We did get some chocolates in the station, but they were no cheaper or superior to the ones sold by the same company in Britain. Sorry, if you're thinking of visiting me, they have all gone.