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Ghent & Bruges.
Aug. 23 – 26, 2025
Medieval Wonderlands
When I began planning my trip, one place I was sure that I wanted to go was Bruges, Belgium. Largely inspired by the film, In Bruges, starring Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson. Basically everything I knew about Bruges was from that movie, which depicts it as a fairytale-esque escape from the modern world. A small town locked in time, displaying the full beauty of a well-to-do medieval village. I needed to see it for myself.
As I talked to people about my trip, another suggestion that came up repeatedly was Ghent, Bruges’ big brother, just twenty minutes down the rail line. Ghent was the largest and wealthiest city in northwest Europe in its heydey, during the 13th century. Given its location, with Bruges just to the west and Brussels — my next intended destination — to the east, I opted to stay in Ghent and make Bruges a day trip.
My hostel in Ghent came highly recommended. The Hostel Uppelink sits right across a canal from Ghent’s historical center. And upon arriving in my room, I immediately understood why it was so lauded.
The view from my room’s window Ghent’s historic center is made up of a series of impossibly elaborate buildings, each as majestic as the last. Three enormous churches, Sint-Michielskerk, Sint-Niklaaskerk, and Sint-Baafskathedraal make up the religious core of the old city. Not to be outdone, the secular Stadhuis, Post Office and Belfry each make their mark on the already impressive skyline.
The entire area is car-free, but for the taxis, trams and buses that occasion the streets. Walking amongst these aged beauties transports you back to early ages, with the market stalls traded for bustling restaurants and bars, and peasant farmers and traders replaced with hundreds of tourists and their phones and cameras. Even still, despite the commercialized nature of the squares and streets, the charm of this place radiates with a furiosity. The golden light of sunset spotlights each building, casting each crevice and minor detail with a dramatic glow. It’s truly a magical place.
Just down the road from this marvelous square, sits Gravensteen, the Castle of the Counts. The castle dates to 1180CE, though it was preceded by other fortifications as early as 1000CE. Once the seat of the Count of Flanders, it has lived many lives as a courthouse, jail, mint and cotton mill. I spend a morning walking through its halls, passages and ramparts, imagining how it would have served each of these purposes.
The modern of city of Ghent encircles this tight collection of antique buildings. The streets immediately adjacent are suggestive of their medieval origins. Tight alleys and small two-story buildings. These streets continue to carry all of the charm of the broader squares and plazas. Wandering through them at random is a peaceful and pleasing exercise. The further you move from the center, the more the modern world encroaches as the streets widen and fill with cars. However, even out amongst these more familiar surroundings, you can sense the golden heart of the city that lays within.
Getting Friendly
A strong contributing factor to my enjoyment of Ghent was the number of wonderful people that I met in the room of our hostel. On my first night, I met Tessa, a friendly, kindergarden teacher from Utrecht, who invited me out for drinks with a couple of other hostellers that she had met earlier in the day. This led to a fun evening with Tessa, Hussein (a marketing specialist originally from Turkey, now residing in London), and Carlos (a recent law school grad originally from Mexico City, now living in NYC). We hit up a bar famous for its Belgian beer selection, as well as for serving a yard of beer in specially made glasses (you needed to trade a shoe when ordering this beer, to ensure that you didn’t steal the glass). An evening of conversation, getting to know each other and exploring the differences and similarities between each of our home countries and the places that we had visited on our travels.
Sadly, Tessa and Carlos left the next morning, but we managed to connect for breakfast before they headed on to their own separate locations. I wouldn’t see Hussein again until our last evening, where we compared our experiences in Bruges. However, the disappointment at saying goodbye to these new friends so soon, quickly subsided as I met my new roommates. Tristan, an Irishman who had spent the last three months biking from Germany, through the Netherlands and into Belgium, just on the cusp of finishing his tour before heading home to finish his electrical engineering degree. And Mariam, a Dutch student in the process of applying to the University of Ghent’s film program. The next two evenings were spent decompressing after busy days and chatting with these two lovely individuals.
Tristan and I would go on to meet up in Brussels, but that’s a story for next time.
In Bruges
I had heard that Bruges was best experienced in the evening, when most of the tourists left and the lights came on. So, obviously I planned to be there for mid-morning, at the height of the wave of tourists, dumped into the town by bus and train. But, as luck would have it, other plans were in store for me.
I set out to find the tram platform that would deliver me to the Ghent train station. After a couple of wrong turns, I arrive on the correct street. I stand at the corner, looking left and right, trying to spot the sign that marks the platform, when SPLAT. A giant, wet bird poop lands directly on my shoulder, covering my backpack strap and my button-up shirt.
With a curse, and a sigh of resignation, I turn around, back toward the hostel. I need to do laundry today anyway. Back at the hostel, I relate my story to the receptionist, who informs me that getting pooped on by a bird is considered good luck in Belgium. By the end of the day, that prophecy would prove good.
For now, I sat in the common room and worked on a blog post while waiting for my laundry to finish. Luckily, I was able to snag the single washing machine in the hostel right away and didn’t need to wait. It was, otherwise, a quiet and uneventful morning. And by around 1pm, I was ready once again to set out to Bruges.
Trains to Bruges run roughly every 10 minutes from Ghent, and even late day in the day as it is, my train is packed with tourists looking to explore the famed medieval town. 20 minutes later, we spill out on to the streets in the modern part of Bruges, which is laid out similarly to Ghent, with its gooey historical center enrobed by layers of more recent construction, getting older and older as you move inwards. I don’t even need to look at my phone to see where I should be going. I just follow the masses of people, guided by a church steeple off in the distance.
As the buildings and streets grow older, the crowds of people grow larger. Until the crush grows so strong that moving through some of the narrow passageways essentially becomes a queue, politely waiting for each tourist to get their selfie with Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk (Church of Our Lady) in the background. From the grounds of the church, we flow into a wide boulevard along a canal. Here, the crowds are Disneyland sized. A constant stream up and down the sidewalks, and even in the canal as tour boats float by regularly.
A bridge crossing the canal marks the entryway into the heart of the city. The narrow streets are lined with chocolate shops, restaurants and bars, souvenir stands and waffle kiosks (as were all of the nearby streets that fed into the Grote Markt, I would learn). The light at the end of the tunnel was a wide open square, as large a plaza as I’d seen since arriving in Europe. At the south end stands the tall and imposing Belfort, a massive clock tower, that features prominently in several scenes of In Bruges.
For all the anticipation that I’d built up as I approached the plaza, I honestly felt a little let down. I’m not entirely sure what I was expecting, but I did not find here in this wide square busy with tourists. In Bruges takes place in winter, in what appears to be a quiet and contemplative small town, which did not resonate with the sun-soaked plaza in which I now stood. And certainly, compared with the grandeur of the buildings in Ghent, Bruges came off worse.
Unfortunately, I could not shake off this feeling for the rest of my time in Bruges. Everything that it had to offer, I had already seen in Ghent. Of course Bruges had its own charms, but nothing that really pushed it over the edge. I enjoyed a leisurely, canal-side walk around the outer edge of the inner city, and there were plenty of interesting alley sized streets away from the busy center, but ultimately Bruges just wasn’t what I wanted it to be. Originally, I thought that I would would stick around to catch the evening lights, instead I called it a day and headed back to Ghent for the night.
Prophecy Fulfilled
Back at the hostel, I recount the events of the day with Mariam and Tristan. Mariam spent the day performing various tasks for the entrance exam for the University of Ghent, while Tristan sought out the best chocolate shops he could find.
As we chatted, Tristan came to explain how he had biked across Germany, the Netherlands and into Belgium, planning to finish his trip in Brussels the following day. I told him how when I began planning my trip, I had day-dreamed about buying a bike and touring through Europe. And he absolutely surprised me by offering his bike to me when he was done! He had bought the bike relatively cheaply, and he planned to simply leave it on the street for someone to take in Brussels, so he said I could take it. I am overjoyed. Riding around a city is my favorite way to explore and having my own bicycle would be an absolute dream.
We make plans to meet up in Brussels, so I can buy him dinner before he transfer the bike over to me. And just like that, the promised good luck for my earlier bird poop misfortune is delivered!
Bird Corner
I spent an afternoon hiking out to Stedelijk Natuurreservaat Bourgoyen-Ossemeersen, a large nature reserve park with a hope of spotting some new birds and I was not disappointed. Though, it did take some patience. When I initially arrived in the park, I could hear song birds all around, high in the canopies at the front of the park. But, after an hour or so, I had not managed to have a clear look at a single bird. Eventually, frustrated, I set out on the path that encircles the park. Another hour of frustration followed with hardly any birds, other than some very shy wood pigeons. It wasn’t until I was already three quarters of the way around the park that I spotted a small wetland that was just covered with birds. It was a good distance away, so even with my telephoto lens, the birds were relatively small. But despite this small annoyance, I am quite delighted with what I came across.
Where Next?
If you’ve been following closely, you may have noticed quite a delay between this post and the previous. I received some unfortunate news upon arriving in Brussels, after Ghent. My mom has been diagnosed with leukemia and been hospitalized for almost a month, as I write this. I returned back home to Canada on September 4 to help support my family, while she undergoes her initial treatment in hospital. So for the time-being, my trip is on pause. If all goes well, I’ll be on my way again in a few weeks, but we’ll just see how things go in the meantime. For now, I will slowly update the blog with the next couple of places I saw before making my way home, expect Brussels and Lille in the coming weeks.
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Antwerp.
Aug. 19 – 23, 2025
Belgium is not the Netherlands
But it’s not that different. They speak Dutch (in parts). They have Albert Heijn grocery stores. They accept Euro and ride bicycles. But immediately as you step off the train, you are faced with the fact that Belgium is not the Netherlands. The magnificent and ornate Antwerp Central station belies nothing of the Dutch practicality that I found in Amsterdam, The Hague and Rotterdam, it is pure spectacle. And it was only a taste of what I would find throughout Antwerp.
That said, just two weeks into my trip and I’m already having trouble remembering where I am. It doesn’t help that the language is the same. Except that it means that the handful of phrases that I’ve memorized, and mostly been too shy to even utter, are still good here. Alstublieft (please), dank u wel (thanks, very much), goedemiddag (good afternoon). Maybe one of these phrases will leave my lips at more than a whisper (they won’t). English is still so commonly understood and spoken, that it’s hard to break the habit of just defaulting to it. But no one seems terribly put out by it. Save for that one old woman on the street, who seemed to think that it was my fault that a random newspaper was lying twenty feet away from where I was sitting at a cafe table. Or at least I think that’s what she was saying. Ik spreek geen Nederlands (I can’t speak Dutch).
Shine Bright Like a Diamond
Antwerp is famous as a diamond capital of the world. The central train station releases you directly into Diamant, the diamond district. The streets are adorned with glittering storefronts, with rings, necklaces and anything else that a jeweler sees fit to bedazzle. To say the shiny displays held little interest for me would be downplaying my feelings considerably. Though, I did find it amusing when I came back a couple of days later to photograph the train station and I needed to remember that I had locked my bike in front of Diamond World, rather than Diamond Planet, the shop two storefronts over.
I, again, picked a hostel that was a good hike away from the center of town. This one was pretty swank as far a hostels go. It featured a very comfortable co-working space, a fully outfitted kitchen and a sixth floor rooftop patio with bar service. All in all, it made for an enjoyable stay.
Antwerp, my entry point into Belgium, has a rich and varied history that I learned almost nothing about. Opting instead for a self-guided wander through the streets, seeing what I could see and comparing it to what I’d recently seen.
At the street level, Antwerp is noticeably different from the Dutch cities. The buildings are an eclectic mix of styles and ages. You still have the narrow town and row-houses, three or four stories tall, some looking a little worse for the wear. Narrow, alley-like streets lined with dozens of these buildings on each block. But, where the Dutch buildings are likely to be of a cohesive style, Antwerp’s can be incredibly different from building to building. Simple, modern buildings with clean lines, sit shoulder to shoulder with hundred and fifty year old neoclassical inspired motifs complete with fluted columns and intricate bas reliefs, which themselves abut on art nouveau beauties with dynamic flowing lines and giant, round portals for windows. Every street is a cacophony of forms.
The Belgians do not share the Dutch disdain for public statuary. You can find large sculptural displays scattered through the streets of Antwerp. They adorn many squares and rounds, celebrating the achievements of various historical figures. Though not without the inherent risks of literally raising specific human beings on pedestals. See the story of a statue of Leopold II, removed from the streets of Ekeren, Antwerp in 2020. Increased criticism of his bloody and brutal colonial regime in the Congo Free State during the late 1800s and early 1900s led to repeated vandalism. Activists doused the statue in red paint, symbolizing the blood on the hands of the second Belgian monarch.
Image unrelated to story about Leopold II My wander eventually brought me to the historic center of Antwerp, with the obvious crown jewel in the form of the Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekathedraal (Cathedral of Our Lady). This enormous gothic cathedral looms over everything in the vicinity. Its massive, over-exaggerated scale giving you the sense of being nothing but an ant for the giant beings that would inhabit this massive structure.
Just around the corner is the Stadhuis Antwerpen (Antwerp City Hall), bedecked in flags from nations around the world. The square in front holds the famous Brabofontein (Brabo’s fountain). This strange statue depicts a nude figure, holding a severed hand (from which, water spouts out into the fountain, though the fountain wasn’t on I during my visit) poised to hurl it as far as he can. The subject of the fountain refers to a 15th century legend of Silvius Brabo and the giant Druoon Antigoon, and is based on the folk etymology for the city of Antwerp’s name. From Wikipedia, “Antwerpen is a composition of the Dutch words “(h)ant” (hand) and “werpen” (throw or launch).”
Chatty Belgians
The following day, I rented a bike from the hostel and found my way to a large nature reserve to the north of the city, Oude Landen (Old Lands). I found a beautiful, wooded park with a thick underbrush. Immediately, bird song emerged from the trees and encouraged me further along the path. Acorns fell freely from the oaks that surrounded, perhaps marking where the little songbirds were flitting from branch to branch, or maybe just because it was their time. I don’t really know how acorns work.
I spent a good half-hour tracking some chiffchaffs (tiny brown birds, about the size of a finch) through the bushes, trying to get a clear picture. Without luck. However, in my endeavors I came across a number of other hikers in the park. With exception, each one of them made a friendly approach and asked what I was doing. When I responded by saying I only spoke English, each one casually switched over from Dutch and asked their question again. They all seemed delighted with my pursuits and made some small conversation, one even asked to see what I had manage to capture. The Belgian nature seems to be rather curious and pleasant, a welcome change from the city streets where everyone does their best to politely ignore everyone else.
Eventually, I managed to find a couple of lookouts busy with activity of the little songbirds that had been teasing me with hints and glimmers for the past half-hour. I would then spend another hour and half, waiting for them to make their brief appearances so I could snap some photos. It’s amazing how quickly the time slipped away. As I had entered the forest, I could hear some bells chiming out for noon, and I stirred from my final shooting position, I heard the same bells chiming out twice.
Seeing the Sights
I made my move, knowing that I still had another number of sights that I want to shoot before my day was done. Before the day was up, I made my way to Zaha Hadidplein, containing the Port Authority Building, a fantastic hybrid of a modern glass outgrowth sat atop of a traditional Hanseatic style office building. I made a quick pass by MAS (MAS – Museum aan de Stroom) which highlights Antwerp and its connection to the wider world. The building itself is a brilliant red sandstone, cut across by glass panels as though a river flowing across the building. Finally, I rode through the busy and cluttered streets of the historic district and Diamant, on my way to shoot the aforementioned train station.
All in all, Antwerp did not rank too highly in the list of cities I’ve visited so far. Something about it left me feeling cold, despite the warm and friendly interactions I had with the people of city. There are definitely some beautiful sights to see, but it just wasn’t the place for me.
Bird Corner
Antwerp is a smallish and dense city, full of narrow alleys and busy streets, but not many parks large enough to support more than the normal city birds. At the outskirts, in Oude Landen, I did manage to track down some songbirds, but otherwise it wasn’t a great hit, birdwise.
Where Next?
I’ve just left Ghent after a few days there, and I’m currently in Brussels. I have a few days here before I leave Belgium behind and move into France!
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Rotterdam.
Aug. 16 – 19, 2025
Finding a Groove
Rotterdam is where it started to feel like things were coming together. From Amsterdam and The Hague, I learned that travel days were tough for me, even when things went perfectly. And so it was best not to extend myself too far. The ROOM Hostel in Rotterdam is tucked away from the city center, laying nearer to the banks of the not so busy port. This area was a stark contrast to my lodgings in The Hague, with big open skies, baroque buildings and nearby museums and parks. And on the day I arrived, I gave myself permission to see almost none of it.
I sat inside and and enjoyed a comfortable and chill common room, did my laundry and wrote up my post for The Hague. These blog posts are surprisingly time consuming. Both the writing and choosing and editing the photos to accompany them. But, the focused work is gratifying in itself, as well as giving my feet a chance to recover from the stresses the week have put on them.
I’m particularly enjoying tweaking my photos. For the first time in my life, I’ve invested in proper editing software and I find it properly gratifying being able to control exactly how the colors look, how the shot is framed and the narrative that the image conveys. I’m still learning, so hopefully my edits aren’t too heavy-handed, just accentuating what I’d already captured in camera.
Getting Into Rotterdam
It was a gloomy Sunday morning when I set out to explore Rotterdam. I rented a bike from the hostel and spent 5 hours riding 40 kilometers through the city. I found a city that felt distinct from the cousins that I’d already visited. Even though The Hague is only about 20 kilometers from Rotterdam (both cities would fit within the borders of Calgary with plenty of room to spare), the character of each city is unique.
Calgary’s size compared to The Hague and Rotterdam Rotterdam was subject to heavy German bombardment during World War 2 which ultimately destroyed its entire historic city center. As a result, it is largely a modern city featuring a number of fascinating and experimental architectural choices. Everywhere you turn in the city, you are likely to find a building that looks nothing like anything you’ve seen before. From apartment blocks to corporate skyscrapers to bridges and underpasses. A vibrant and lively city has emerged from the ruins of what came before.
My gloomy Sunday ride took me from the port through the center of the city and beyond into the suburbs where they verge upon the farmlands that surround. The streets were largely empty, at least compared to what I’d experienced in busy Amsterdam. I think this is probably my preferred way to see a city. Allowed to consume it slowly, without feeling in the way or pressured to move along.
In this case, my leisurely feast brought me into the Hillegersberg area. An affluent and green community with a distinct lakeside feel. Huge houses, by Dutch standards, line the banks of two small lakes before leading into streets filled with upper middle-class, single family homes and finally a large park, Lage Bergse Bos (low mountain forest). Having made it this far, I actually passed outside the city limits of Rotterdam and rode through a couple of the tiny hamlets that line the border. These charming villages gave a small taste of Dutch country life, though I imagine they are more homes for wealthy, retirees than rural tulip farmers.
The following day, I set out and explored the center of Rotterdam on foot. On my bike ride, I had briefly seen the Marksthal, a giant food hall in a donut shaped building, and the Kijk Kubus, a set of 40 experimental cube shaped homes tilted on their edge, and I wanted to get a closer look. Along the way, I came across a variety of other architectural delights. Such as, the Museum Boijmans Van Beuningen, housed in a giant mirrored plant pot, the Stadhuis (city hall), one of the only remaining pre-war buildings in the city center, and the Nieuwe Delftse Poort, an art installation raised in tribute of a medieval gate that once stood on the same spot. I rounded out the day enjoying a coffee on the patio of one of the countless cafes that line the streets of Rotterdam Centrum.
Getting Artsy
One of the questions I’ve been wrestling with, is whether or not I like museums. For the most part, I find myself desperately trying to engage with the works that must be important because someone hung them on the wall for me to look at. And I paid somewhere in the neighbourhood of €20 to look at them, ipso facto, they’re important. But despite their importance, I find that I just don’t connect with the masterpieces of old. I do, however, connect with the weird and the abstract. The modern and the post-modern, the post-post-modern and the post-nihilist-abstract-dada-modern.
To that end, I decided to check out the Kunsthal Rotterdam, a museum of contemporary art just down the road from the hostel. I had hoped to spend Monday morning exploring its small exhibits, so, obviously, I unintentionally purchased a ticket for Tuesday, the day I would be leaving. Turns out the Kunsthal is closed on Monday.
No bother, I would just check out of my hostel, store my bags in a locker and kill the morning at the museum before heading on to Antwerp. And a delightful morning it was, featuring an exhibition on the concept of ‘cute’, its origins in modern culture, its exploitation by capitalists and, most importantly, cat memes. Also on display was a retrospective on the works of Korean artist Haegue Yang, which elicited an emotional response in me, provoked by some very carefully stacked and arranged laundry drying racks. Go figure.
The original cat memes, dating to the late 1800s All in all, a successful outing to the museum and a good way to round out my time in a city that I very much enjoyed.
Bird Corner
By and large, the birds of Rotterdam were those that had become familiar to me through my time in Amsterdam and the Hague, gulls, crows, jackdaws and pigeons. However, I did pick up a couple new sightings, by the way of Mute Swans, a very amenable Greylag Goose and a playful swarm of Barn Swallows.
Where Next?
As I mentioned, I’ve left the Netherlands and I’m now in Antwerp, Belgium. I’ve got another day and a half left here, and then I’m looking to head on the Ghent and Bruges!
