Travel Tales

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In Dresden – how I traded dinner for a concert

On my second night in Dresden, I was wandering around Frauenkirche (Church of our Dear Women) in Dresden’s Old Town, looking for the famous Kunst-Cafe Antik which was recommended by many because of it’s unique ambiance. Of course in the tradition of my geographic ineptness, I got lost. I tried following An der Frauenckirche street but it disappeared into Munzgasse street and I didn’t know where else to go. I was already on my 4th loop, tired and hungry, having survived the day with only four pathetic pieces of sushi from a pseudo Japenese restaurant along Wilsdruffer street.

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I was ready to give up and walk into the closest restaurant when I noticed a group of old people lining up in the entrance. The church closes at 4pm so I thought there must be a special event scheduled that night. I also saw young men in tuxedo, ushering those who are entering the church.

Near one of the doors I read the poster which has the words “konzert” and “gedenken”. I knew that it was a commemoration concert so I asked one of the lady usher how much the ticket was and if it’s still available. Apparently there were not so many enthusiasts that night and I was able to secure a ticket for €24 euros, momentarily forgetting my growling stomach.

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The interior of Frauenkirche, like most old European churches, is grand, beautiful and impressive, but it’s very apparent that the building had been restored. It does not exude the Renaissance atmosphere that one would feel when entering one of the churches in Rome. The interior looks so polished like it has never seen war.

I was seated in the blind area near the stunning golden altar of Frauenkirche, where I can only see my fellow audience and look up to the balcony. But since hardly half of the church was filled, the people in my row decided to go to the front, myself included. Throughout the whole concert, I had a full frontal view of the orchestra.

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Did I already mentioned that this is my first opera concert? You know where there is a conductor in tuxedo, a whole set of instrument players and there’s a soprano, tenor and bass – all dressed elegantly?

Yes it was and I felt very lucky that it only cost me a fraction of what I would have paid in a normal opera concert.

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When the orchestra began to play,  I watched the audience around me. Most of them are old people, I was probably among the few who is below 30 years old. Surely most of them have lived through the war, some might even be children when the Allied Forces bombarded Dresden to ashes in 1945.

The music grew more powerful, the tempo went faster and then it slowly faded into a sad harmony. It was beautiful, hair-rising sometimes. This is after all Mozart’s Great Mass in C Minor, composed by Wolfgang Amadeus for his wife Constanze (that’s Wikepedia for you).

Being the sentimental traveller that I am, I thought of the war and the faces around me. This orchestra is playing to remember a very tragic year in Dresden’s history – what could they be thinking?

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Do they remember the sound of exploding bombs with every blow of the brass?

Do they remember their tears with each pull of the violin?

Sitting safe inside a church that was pounded into pieces during the war, do they remember how they fled when the bombs dropped?

And do they think of the mothers, fathers and siblings they could have lost that day when the music mellows down?

As the concert progressed, I thought of the war that I have not known. It makes me feel like an outside, an intruder even.

I wouldn’t know how it was to be scampering for cover when the sky was raining with fire from the enemies.

I do not share their pain. I do not know their pain.

Reading Slaughterhouse-five is not enough for me to understand what the city went through.

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I will never know the Dresden that these residents around me knew during that concert. Because the Dresden that I’ve seen is far from the Dresden that was almost obliterated for three days in February 1945.

Sometimes, I feel like travel is superficial.

Dresden was bombed by the Allied Forces from February 13-15, 1945. War is cruel.

In the details – a day trip in Brussels

I have a yearly tradition of travelling in August, before or after my birthday. Last year though, my mother visited me in the Netherlands and we made a small European tour so money was a bit tight when my birthday came. Not wanting me to miss my tradition, my husband took me to Brussels for a day trip.

Approximately 1.5 hours drive from Zeeland and about 2.5 hours from Rotterdam, I am a little ashamed to admit that it was the first time I am visiting the European capital despite it’s proximity to where I live. There was just not enough reason to visit Brussels, except maybe during a lay-over in the airport on the way to other cities.

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The hunt for an antique locket in the Sablon market

We left early so we can still catch the famous weekend antique market at Palace du Grand Sablon which is open from 9:00 – 14:00 on Sundays. I love antique markets, especially old jewelry and tea sets. For a while now I’ve been scouting for a unique, antique locket for myself and was hoping to find one in the Sablon but the prices were still too steep for me. I guess jewelry does not really loose their value in time. I did spied on some beautiful jade rings and pearl earrings but nothing really fascinated me well enough to buy.

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A visit at the Royal Museums of Fine Arts

The Koninklijke Musea voor Schone Kunsten van België is housed in a neoclassical Beaux-Arts architectural style designed by one of Belgium’s finest architect, Aphonse Balat. The facade is already impressive, the inside even more.  But we came here for the paintings.

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And  the paintings I saw and felt. 

One of the many that made a lasting impression was this interpretation of the story of Apollo and Marsyas by Italian painter Jusepe de Ribera. The story goes that after Marsyas lost a music contest to Apollo, as a price, Apollo skinned him alive. You can feel the excruciating pain in the face of the poor musician. I could not erase this image from my mind for days on end.

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I also found two works of Dutch painter Dieric Bouts very intense, graphic and disturbing – The Ordeal by Fire and The Justice of the Emperor Otto: The Execution of the Innocent Man. Both shows two decapitation apparently executed in front of spectators.

Whether true or not (as I have done that much research while writing this) it shows the cruelty that human beings are capable of. Barbaric was the only description I can think of while looking at the paintings and I shared this strong dislike with my husband.

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I guess this is how you measure a painter’s success – when he can channel this sort of emotions to the viewers of his works.

After these intense viewing, I needed something to take my mind off the gruesomeness so we moved to the landscape and portrait area of the museum. Landscape paintings are not really my favorite so I thought of a little game with Robin to make the experience a bit more fun – spot the details. We did not expect it but this game turned out to be a hilarious activity.

Look at the details that we found from the works of popular painters.

First painting is by Jacques Callot called The Fair at Impruneta. Those dogs sent us laughing hysterically.

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Second photo is by Pieter Bruegel I entitled The Fall of the Rebel Angels. Do you agree with me that that creature in the far bottom left is farting? Sorry for the blurry photos but here is a sharper one. Link

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Lunch by Le Grain de Sable

After a while we had enough of scrutinizing the little details in the landscape paintings and left the museum to pacify our growling stomachs. We ended back in Palace du Grand Sable at a place restaurant called Le Grain de Sable which were filled with gay couples at the time of our visit. The place was decked in white and bathed in sunshine so for some time we had to endure the blinding lights shining on our eyes.

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The food was excellent so we stick to the place even though we have several other choices for lunch around the same area. I had entrecôte with salad and a glass of Bordeaux while Robin ordered calf slow-cooked in Belgian beer served with Belgian french fries (which is better than the Dutch by the way) and a bottle of Westmalle Trappist. I finished only half of my entrecote and half of my husband’s calf stew and later that month cooked my own version of that Flemish beer stew. Needles to say, the lunch was unforgettable.

We were almost slipping to food coma after our huge lunch but instead of walking it off, we stayed in Le Grain de Sable, this time with some cocktails in hand – mojito for the both of us. Coupled with the sweltering summer weather and the effect of the alcohol, we magically sweat the sleepiness away.

We did not forget the Atomium.

So we drove there after lunch hoping that after some sight seeing we can have a high tea at the Atomium restaurant. The view would have been wonderful, just like in Euromast tower.

It took us at least half an hour to find a parking space and when we get to the reception, they told us that the restaurant is closed so we ended up drinking tea in one of those touristy cafe around the Atomium.

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After taking photos with Brussels iconic structure – which is all there to do there – we found a cosy spot in the park nearby. The bench that we chose overlooked the park’s amphitheater, shaded with a lot of trees and you can feel the soft breeze in your skin, just enough to cool us off. At three in the afternoon, it was a perfect place to take a nap. So we did.

Nothing could have been better.

“Are you not going together?” The downside and upside of travelling alone when you have a partner

 

“Are you going with Robin?”

This is usually the first question I get when I tell  my friends or family that I am off to a visit a new place. Which is fine, because since we are a couple, people expect us to travel together. After all, our relationship started when we went on a three-week adventure together and fell in-love while on an island with only 4 hours of electricity a day and both intoxicated with local vodka and rum.

But  after a while these kinds of questions get into you and at one point you start to question yourself .

“Should I feel bad that I am away from my husband almost every month and even on occasions like Christmas, Valentine’s Day and even our anniversary?”

Our first travel together in Palawan, Philippines 2007

Our first travel together in Palawan, Philippines 2007

We started out as two people gripped with wanderlust.

Robin lived in the Philippines for more than two years, as a student exploring the mountains of Isabela for bats as part of his Master’s degree and as an amateur photographer hoping to make a career out of it in a foreign land. He had back packed throughout Europe and visited several Asian countries before settling in Manila.

I met him in 2007 on an interview that involves a lot of coffee and a lot of vodka. He was looking for a writer for a travel assignment to Palawan – three weeks of paid vacation and a good per/article rate. At that time I just came back from a weekend sojourn in Pagudpud where I decided to stop all the nonsense in my life and pursue happiness. Needless to say I was also job less, having just left a lucrative marketing position.

The Palawan getaway was a perfect gig but it came with a catch – I need to spend Christmas and New Year away from my family.

In the tradition of strong Filipino family-ties, these two occasions must always be spent with the family. But I told him that for all my 24 years, I had spent it with my family and it wouldn’t hurt if I skip one Christmas away from them so I follow my dreams to travel.

Fast forward to two years after, I moved to the Netherlands to be with him and start a life together. And although we still have that wanderlust, life caught up on us.

We got full time jobs, bought a house and began a life of a normal Dutch couple – a life that involves taxes, bills, immigration processes and assimilating to my new country.

Summer of 2009 visiting my friend in Madrid

Summer of 2009 visiting my friend in Madrid

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A weekend trip in Berlin

I got lucky with my job which allows me to travel Europe for free. On the same year, I began to travel again with my first salary. I went to Madrid in the summer and slept at the airport on the eve of my birthday – the trip that began my yearly birthday pilgrimage and revived my desire to travel. And I haven’t stopped since. I am away at least once month, sometimes spending two weeks away from my husband – both for work and leisure.

While Robin’s job is also flexible, he decided to venture deeper into his passion and made it into a business. Robin Kuijs photography is slowly building a reputation and he spends his vacation days photographing weddings, editing hundreds of photos and working on his website. Sometimes he also travels out of the country for work or to go to a photo trip alone.

Table for one please

Always a table for one.

To make the story short, we don’t have enough time to travel together and since in this country, more work means higher taxes and more travel means a lot of expenses, our budgets don’t meet either. Two people who are crazy about good food, loves good alcohol (even in a Muslim country) and who prefers to be pampered while travelling definitely needs more than sufficient funds to travel together.

So for the last two years, I had been travelling alone most of the time – I went to Morocco, Istanbul, Italy, Nantes, Tallinn, Greece, Russia and the Philippines without him and we spent two Christmases and two anniversaries thousands of miles away from each other. And just last week I booked a  weekend trip to Dresden without realizing that I am leaving on Valentine’s Day until he saw the ticket and blurted, “You are leaving on the 14th?! I was already planning something.”

A weekend retreat in the High Atlas Mountain, Morocco

A weekend retreat in the High Atlas Mountain, Morocco

One of our mirror shots in Luxembourg

One of our mirror shots in Luxembourg

 

Yes we still do travel together, like our  weekend in Geneva meeting with Perps, road tripping in Portugal for a week and when I brought him back to Morocco with me where we stayed in a mountain and watched the stars brighten the North African sky.

But whenever I am overwhelmed with the beauty of a place that I have recently discovered, I wish that he would see the same and I can share the same feeling with him. That desire to drag him along to all the beautiful places that I have seen made me cry a lot and caused  plenty of  intense arguments.

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Last year in Russia, at the beautiful Pavlovsk Park just outside Saint Petersburg

I wish he was with me while I was enjoying the pleasures of travelling. 

I wish he was with me in Russia while I wonder in amazement at the opulence of the Czarist’s palaces and the immaculately, white gardens which provides for endless leisure walks. I am sure he would have photographed them beautifully.

I wish he was celebrating with me and my family during Christmas of 2011. We could have had the same feast of roasted pork knuckles, boiled crabs, tiger shrimps, chicken curry and leche flan that my family cooks very well.

I wish he had seen the monks of Theotokos Monastery in Paleokastrista and their dogs and probably hundreds of cats living with them. He loves cats.

I wish he had visited the mosques of Istanbul with me and see for himself that the inside of a mosque can be as rich and amazing as the grandest Catholic churches. We only saw the facade of mosques in Morocco and really didn’t t really bother to enter one back then.

And most of all, I wish he was with me during all those nights that I spent alone in a strange hotel room, lying awake throughout the night, waiting for ghosts or a serial killer to scare or bludgeon me to death. I am one scaredy cat. And God knows how many sleepless nights I had because of this.

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Girls who travel – my travel companions in Morocco.

Making new friends in Istanbul

Making new friends in Istanbul.

But I must admit that while we could have had a lot of fun  travelling together, there are also many things that I enjoy doing alone. 

I think Russia would have not been as meaningful if he was with me. Part of the reason why I went there was Dostoevsky and he does not have patience for philosphy books. I would have had a hard time explaining it to him.

I would not have made new friends on my first time in Morocco, Sardinia and Istanbul.

I would not have experienced the inconvenience of getting lost all the time, travelling on a rickety train and getting fined €50 for not stamping my ticket to Milan or sit at the back of a Vespa and being driven to the bus station by a charming, old Italian man because I was too drunk to understand directions.

And don’t even let me start on how annoying shopping in Venice, Milan, Tallinn and Madrid would have been if he was with me. We all know how men hate shopping.

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Our shadow shot (since there is no mirror) in Luz, Portugal, autumn of 2012.

Yes there are guilty moments and lonely times whenever I travel without my husband. But through these years I have learned that not only travelling together enriches a couples’ relationship, travelling apart also allows you to become a better person for the one waiting for you at home. 


Christmas market in St Petersburg, Russia

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After my rather emotional Christmas walk from the the Church on Spill Blood, I headed towards Nevsky Prospekt, passed the brightly-lighted Lutheran church and headed to the Christmas market at Ploschad Ostrovskovo (Ostrovskovo Square), a five-minute walk from the right side of Gostiny Dvor metro station.

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Ploschad Ostrovskovo is a small square dominated by the huge, bronze monument of Catherine the Great and behind it is the Alexandrinsky (Pushkin) Drama Theatre. This is where the annual Christmas market in St Petersburg is held since it opened in 2006. The market opened on December 21, 2012 and will close on January 14, 2013

The market cannot be missed. It’s sparkling blue lights and a big arc attract attention of passerby’s and commuters alike, even from a snow-shaded window of a crowded bus passing Nevsky Prospect and loud sound of the performances can be heard once you get out of the metro station.

Although smaller compared to European Christmas markets, the one is St Petersburg is not any less festive. A temporary stage was set up beside Alexandrinsky  for nightly entertainment, including a performance of Russian folk songs.

Stalls of different products encircle Ostrovskovo Square, mostly typical Russian products like wooden kitchen utensils, woolen clothes, socks and scarfs, crystal decorations, dolls etc – items that you can also buy from souvenir shops or at the nearby Gostiny Dvor metro station. There were also a lot food stalls selling Christmas market staples like sausages and gluhwein and Russian meat breads and pastries. More

Books, villages and alcohol

Books, villages and alcohol

Good morning from my courtyard room at Chateau D’ Hassonville. Today is a beautiful day, sunny but maybe cold, perfect for a morning walk in the big park of the castle. I am taking it slow today, partly because of the amount of alcohol I’ve ingested last night and partly because I am hesitant to leave. It is such a relaxing place, so far the best that I have ever been to.

Yesterday was a mixture of exploring the Ardennes and it’s little towns and a gastronomic/alcohol journey from town to town.

We were originally planning to visit only two towns, Redu, the first official book village in Europe and go back to Durbuy to take photos and for a bit more sight seeing. But while I was browsing through a pile of post cards in Redu to send to my good friend Carlo, I saw this photo of colorful houses and a church beside a river. We then decided to take the 45-minute journey to Dinant.

When it comes to history, Dinant have seen a good part of the past. It has been a settlement since the Stone Age and was an important city to the kings because of its location beside the River Meuse. Dinant has its castles, a citadel and a beautiful bridge now adorned with saxophones. I was wondering if it was an exhibit, an event or something else that made them put all those saxophones on the bridge but I’ve learned that Dinant is the birthplace of Adolphe Sax, inventor of the saxophone. A fitting tribute to their famous resident.

Anyway, our day started with a delicious breakfast at Chateau D’ Hassonville. For the price of 20euros per person, I had high expectations with the quality of the food. And I was not disappointed.

Everything that was served was fresh, organic and were really tasty. I loved that you can boil or fry your eggs in the mini stove on the breakfast counter. The orange juice was freshly squeezed and they even have caramelized apricot among the choices. There was a variety of bread and fresh butter as well as salmon and liver pate. They serve their coffee on a pot with big cups decorated with flowers and you will feel like having high tea while having breakfast. The best part was the location, on the greenhouse adjusted to the restaurant. So you have a idyllic view of the garden while eating your first meal of the day.

After breakfast, we drove straight to Redu. It was raining in the morning and was very cold so I decided its better to be inside the bookstores and libraries than getting wet walking around Durbuy. After getting lost and wasting an extra 30 minutes on the Ardenne’s highway, we finally arrived in Redu at half past 10.

R was craving for coffee so we decided to get warm first at hotel/restaurant Le Fournil. He ordered coffee and I, chocolate milk, but later saw on the menu their specialty, peach liquor with cognac. Naturally I have to have a “taste”. That was the start of my alcohol consumption yesterday, at 10:30am in Europe’s first book village.

They say that you have gone to heaven and back when you come to Redu. And there’s a lot of truth to that, especially when you can find precious English books. The libraries and bookstores in that small village are numbered and there were certain areas where you can find the English books. Although each bookstore carries some English and Spanish titles, most of them are in French, Dutch and German.The whole time in Redu, I think of only one person, an acquittance of mine and a certified book worm, Ron. Surely, Redu is his heaven.

After Redu, we went to Dinant to have lunch. Because of lack of parking spaces, we have to park at the Citadel then ride the cable car down to the city centre where we ended up at Le Citadel restaurant. We were starving and didn’t want to look further. Luckily the lasagna was cooked in my preferred way, a bit burned, lots of cheese and meat and a bit soggy in the inside. I couldn’t help but enjoy such a fulfilling meal with two glasses of champagne.

As predicted by the receptionist owner of Chateau D’ Hassonville, the sun came out in the afternoon, at about 3pm. I was not very hopeful with Friday’s weather but fortunately it improved. We were back on the rode 30 minutes after to catch the sunset at the hotel so we can take photos of the sun-lit castle.

But not before stopping first at Durbuy. It didn’t take much time to go around the village because it was so tiny. I was once again drawn to the specialty store and came out with a bottle of that apricot liquer with cognac and little jars of Advocaat. By the time we were finished, the sun was shining warmly on the small centre of Durbuy, a very good place to enjoy a bottle of beer. I went for the sweet framboise and R for the local brew. All the while I was thinking of Brand’s Oud Bruin.

Before the sun sets, we hurried back to the hotel for the photos and eventually for more binge drinking. It was in a way, my R’s little birthday party, the main reason why we are here.

Happy birthday schatje!

Weekend Guide: Bruges, Belgium

Weekend Guide: Bruges, Belgium

Bruges or Brugge, depends on what language you are speaking, prides itself in being a well-preserved medieval town and one of the many Unesco’s World Heritage site in Belgium. Stripped off tourists that floods Brugge everyday, it can actually be just a ghost town as if time stood still in there and you can expect to meet a man in cloak and a woman in kirtle while taking a midnight walk in one of its dark alleyways. Probably that’s why director Martin McDonagh chose it as the setting of his dark comedy film In Bruges.

“The problem with Brugge is that nobody lives there anymore. The locals have moved out of town because of the  influx of tourists and the town is just one big tourist trap,” said a rather critical colleague about Brugge.

I must admit, there’s hardly any locals (except for the business owners of course) littering around town but this doesn’t make Brugge any less charming. On a weekend visit there two years ago, I drank into its lovely architecture (that spans 700 hundred years) and Old World charm of Brugge while getting tipsy with Belgian beers and chocolates.

Do what?

Walk – This is the only way to appreciate the beauty of Brugge. Anyway the town is so small that going around it will probably just take half of your day. Brugge has some of the world’s most amazing architectural designs, from Medieval (of course) to Gothic, Neo-Gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, Romanesque and Classic, sort of an architectural porn for a design student. To see all of them you have to put a pair of comfortable sneakers (don’t make a mistake of wearing heeled shoes unless you want bleeding feet afterwards) and “walk around town.”

Start from the Big Market Square and challenge yourself to climb the 366-steps of the Belfry Tower and if you get the chance, listen to the 48-bell carillion. Afterward proceed to another square called Burg where the Provincial House, St Donatius church, the Holy Blood Chapel, the Basilius church and the Old Civil Registry are located, all of which have been built with different architectural styles.

If you get tired of walking, take the one-hour canal tour, relax and enjoy taking photos of the old houses and charming little gardens at the river bank and going under very low bridges (where you even have to lower your heads while crossing), sights which are exclusive when you take the boat. But before hopping on one, spend a few minutes to browse through paintings and photographs of vendors near the boat terminal.

If you are staying on a Sunday, wake up early and  attend church services in any of the many churches in Brugge, like in the Church of Our Lady where Michaelangelo’s Madonna and the tombstone of Mary of Burgandy are located, or in the Cathedral (but don’t get distracted by the lovely stained glasses), in St. Anne’s church or in the Church of St. Walburga.

Visit a museum and a gallery. There are five big museums and galleries in Bruges which exhibits/sells paintings and even diamonds. Of course, like almost every Belgian city, Bruges also have a Chocolate Museum which will surely be a hit for travelling families with kids.

For ladies go shopping at the Braderie during the summer when they close off some of the streets and everything is up to 70% off. Or visit one their flee markets and take your pick at the many pieces of antique jewelry that they were selling. Watch out though because most of them are obviously fake.

For lovers, spend the sunset at the Lake of Love or the Minnewater and watch the lovely swans attack a piece of bread thrown to them by tourists. For parents, let your kids run and roam at the park nearby.

Eat what and where?

You can’t leave Brugge (or any other Belgian city) without indulging in their national prides, beers and chocolates. For the beers, head over to De Stoepa, an almost secret bar and bistro at Oostmeers street. Have a mug of Duvel at the backyard garden during summer but best to bring your friends on a cozy autumn evening. For lunch or high tea, you can try the Meridian where I had a an indulgent afternoon meal of Brussels waffles and espresso. There are a lot of restaurants serving international cuisine in Bruges but since you are in the Flanders part of the country, sample a serving of rabbit dish or other meaty Flander’s meals.

If you somehow ends up in a small square where they have those restaurants and walked into a restaurant called Aquarel avoid ordering their roasted chicken if you don’t want to feel that you got ripped-off. For chocolates, the best place to go to is Chocolatier Dumon, one of the oldest producer of chocolates in Bruges. They have three stores in Bruges, in Eiermarkt, Walplein and the original atelier and store is located in Torhout.

Stay where?

Bruges, being a popular tourist spot, does not have a shortage of hotels and inns that are up to your budget, from budget hotels to five-star and even a castle. For a budget traveller like myself, I would recommend Hotel Keizershof, Brugge because of its affordability and homey ambiance. A double room, with two single beds only cost €44 but that’s with a communal bath and toilet. They also have rooms with their own toilet and bath.

But if you are looking for comfort, luxury and a little bit of Hollywood fame, book yourself a room at Relais Bourgondisch Cruyce Hotel. This “dingy-looking” hotel (at least in the movies) is where Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson of the movie In Bruges stayed. A standard room costs €182-240 and a superior classic room ranges from €350-450. It is situated at the banks of the canal and for that price, you can wake up to a beautiful sunrise spreading over the medieval buildings of this beautiful city. But like I said, it comes with a price. A cup of espresso in its little restaurant downstairs can even cost you €5.

And finally, if you want to make somebody feel like a genuine royalty, treat them to a room at Kasteel ten Berghe, a Gothic castle located just 3km away from Brugge. It might even be cheaper than Relais Bourgondisch Cruyce Hotel at 140,00 €/night and prices goes down still goes down if you are staying a minimum of three nights.

Bruges is a perfect city for a weekend travel. It is not very big and almost everything about an old European city is there. There is no shortage of things to do and it is very much accessible by public transport especially by train. It is also ideal for couples who have kids because there are parks where children can play, have fun and learn about history.  So either you are travelling on a weekend as a couple, single or a family, Bruges should be right for you.

Brielle: A tourist gem in South Holland

Brielle: A tourist gem in South Holland

The road to Brielle (Den Briel) from Rotterdam is a sight full of power plants and the many industrial buildings located in the great Port of Rotterdam. The smell of this industrial part of the Netherlands is inevitable, so is the view of the the ships going in and out of the port. It is quite hard to expect, that in the middle of this modernity, lies an old, enclosed town that played an important role in the war between Netherlands and Spain. The capture of Brielle, as it is known today, started the support of the Dutch to their king Willem of Orange against Duke de Toledo of Spain.

One of our Christmas gift to my parents-in-law is a book called 52 wandelingen met schrijvers naar hun jeugd. They love discovering new places during weekends (mostly Sundays) that they are free and every time they come over to our house, one of our agenda is to go wandelen (leisure walking). At first I didn’t like it because I am not use to talking for several hours without a destination but after a while, I began to look forward to these weekend walks.

Despite the grey skies and biting cold of that Sunday afternoon, we agreed to visit Brielle for our Sunday wandelen. And what an exciting discovery it has been.

Just like any other fortified old city in Europe, entering Brielle would mean lining up in the small gate where only one car is allowed to enter or leave. There is a separate entrance for people, one with a blue roof which on a gloomy Sunday gives you a happy glow.Since it was wandeling afternoon, we decided to leave the car at the nearby Jumbo parking lot. From there you will see a man-made lake made pretty with swimming ducks and swans but you have to watch out for the poop they leave on the road.

Brielle is a town true to the sense of a real Dutch dorp (village). It has a small canal running in the middle of the town where boats and yachts of different sizes were parked. This kind of panorama makes Netherlands unique and unlike in Amsterdam where you have to wrestle your way in a place where you can take good photo without somebody blocking your view, in Brielle it is just you and the tranquility of the canal. Of course, a canal without a bridge is not complete and there you have two, a stone bridge and little further from Albert Heijn is the original (restored perhaps) wooden bridge.

There are interesting statues and buildings in the city centre, like the small monument of Queen Wilhelmina pointing to the sky (which actually looked very funny to me because of its size) the beautiful Hoofdwacht building which is now a restaurant and facing it is the building of Libertatis Primitae (First in Freedom) an event that is celebrated in Brielle every 1st of April. At the back of the center, you can find St. Catherijne church towering over the whole village and before it was a small square with a canon and guillotine, reminiscent of the times gone by.

“I want to live here,” I told the husband while looking inside an old house with a wooden chair on its front window.

“We will need two cars for that and we will be stuck in traffic everyday,” he said completely dismissing the idea. To be able to go to Brielle, one must brave the horrendous traffic during rush hour in Europortweg and race with intimidating cargo trucks on their way to the port. It might not be a very good idea but how nice would it be to come home to such a peaceful town like this one, where you can take evening walks on its dimly-lit narrow streets and you won’t be bothered by the noises of the city.

The lovely thing about old cities un-touched by modernization is that there is a different feel when you are walking on their cobbled stones. Brielle seemed to have been sheltered from the fast-changing cities surrounding it. The names of the establishments retained a hundred-years-old feel on them like the Cafe ‘het Melkmeisje and the ‘t Poorthuys Pool Cafe. While walking past the old adobe houses and buildings with their unique stepped gables and red roofs, you can’t help but imagine the way people have lived here centuries ago. The architecture in Brielle is very well-persevered that seeing the names of big supermarkets like Jumbo and Albert Heijn attached on these old buildings seemed to be out of place.

During its glorious years, Brielle is a self-sufficient town, with its own harbor that is trading with the Baltics until it was added as part of Holland in 1371. It’s close proximity to Europoort, the largest seaport in Europe, provides travellers who dare to climb the 318 steps of  St. Catherijne’s tower a magnificent aerial view of the port and charming little villages around it.

Unfortunately, we weren’t able to visit any museum or even enter the church. I would have wanted to climb the narrow stairs and enjoy the panorama on the top of the tower but it is beginning to drizzle. So we left after a hearty late lunch at the Hoofdwacht.

But I promise to be back in the summer when I can take my old oma Gazelle and bike around the village.

4 Hours is enough to love Gent

4 Hours is enough to love Gent

The old city of Ghent is an all-time favorite destination..  Ghent was one of first European cities I’ve visited when I came here in 2008. Back then I can’t fully appreciate the city, partly because of the run-down and often discouraging suburbs and the amount of walking that it takes to go around the city.

On a recent work-related trip to Ghent, I was ecstatic to see the old city again. And just like the first time, I frowned when the car went past the decaying century-old buildings and the dark streets littered with garbage on its way to the city center.

“And I thought you like Ghent?” my companion said seeing my disappointments.

“I do but not this. I just hope that take care of the suburbs as much as they do the center,” I answered with a sigh. Unfortunately the Belgians are still struggling to form a government so it might take a while.

Castles, medieval houses and art galleries

As I barely  have three hours to spent in Ghent before supper, I resigned my feet to the fact that these three hours will be spent walking. Surprisingly this time, I did not mind. It was a chilly afternoon (first time I came was summer) and the sun is casting the last of its golden rays on the city. As cliche as it sounds, there is romance in the way the sunlight hits the walls of the Gravensteen (Castle of the Counts) or the stepped gable roofs of the medieval Belgian houses. I could walk here for hours without complaining, just passing old buildings, discovering an alley leading to a canal, or peeking through the windows of the many art galleries in Ghent.

“How come there’s a lot of art galleries in Ghent? You never see them in the Netherlands like this” I asked my companion, whom I know of as an art lover, as I’ve counted four galleries in one alley.

“Well because it’s a tourist place and these galleries probably sells a lot to tourists.” I nod, not quite convinced but it  makes sense. Ghent being the biggest city in the East Flanders naturally attracts tourists who can pay for an art piece they’ve seen only once in a window.

Design Museum Gent

The little time I can spare for sight-seeing, I chose to spend most of it at the Design Museum Gent (Jan Breydelstraat 5) . I’m having this fascination and unusual chances of visiting museums lately and I wouldn’t pass up a chance to see which exhibition is on display there at the moment. And what coincidence it was that I was able to catch the Art nouveau and art deco from the Netherlands exhibition in the Design Museum Gent on its last two weeks of display (until February 27, 2011).

“Art nouveau is my favorite,” said my companion. “I’ve inherited a lot of art nouveau pieces from my grandparents and I still keep these in my house. Are you familiar?” I shook my head, what do I know about art? I just like looking at them.

“That is art nouveau,” he said pointing to a set of vases with intricately hand-painted flower designs. I moved closer to the glass and admire the combination of deep colors carefully painted on the vase.

“I think I like art nouveau. I like designs like these. Unlike the modern art (there is an exhibition upstairs) which is mostly about straight edges and peculiar lines, I like the complex details of these pieces,” I said as we go around the museum.

As we walked into the section where Art Deco was displayed, I remembered the houses of very old relatives where they still use those old mahogany cabinets with really beautiful carvings. Art Deco furniture designers used a lot of wood in their works and because of the durability  this material, there is still enough Art Deco furniture being used in middle class homes.

I like wood and those old wood furniture, especially chairs. They are soothing to the eyes and to the skin especially during summers. Unlike leather, they do not get too cold or too hot. And they seem to last forever.

“I should start digging up these collections I have in the basement and sell them. Im sure somebody will be interested,” said my companion as examine book covers with art nouveau designs.

“You shouldn’t sell them. Maybe one day, you can have a big house where you can display all of them,” I said dreaming of my own house with displays like these.

I would have wanted to stay a bit longer but the it’s beginning to get dark and we have to find a place to eat before heading back to the Netherlands.

Dinner at Restaurant Brasserie ‘t Stropke

It was a Sunday afternoon, a very difficult time to find a proper restaurant that is open. Most of the time you will be dining with tourists. When we saw that our initial choice was closed, we agreed to walk into the first restaurant that we will see. It happened to be Restaurant Brasserie ‘t Stropke (Brasseriet Stropke – Kraanlei 1), a rather old and totally uninviting place to eat if we’re going to talk about ambiance. The restaurant is located very near the boat terminal and I reckon, very convenient for tourists.

I was already feeling tired at the end of the day and flipped straight to the main course section of the menu. It didn’t take long for us to make our choices which were two of their specialties, French duck with red port sauce and Baby deer with winter side dishes, forest mushrooms and chestnut puree.

While waiting for the food, I noticed that the tables are actually sewing machine tables and the machines were still attached to it. Quite interestingly the restaurant’s logo is a strap (called strop in Dutch) used for hanging people or by those who commits suicide. Thus the name ‘t Stropke. Quite a morbid image to use for a restaurant.

Waiting time seems to be longer when you are very hungry and I was so I couldn’t really tell if the service was slow or not. When the food arrived, I was just so happy to be fed.

The duck was cooked tenderly and the sauce was generous. Being a Filipino, that matters a lot to me. Those potato balls which I initially thought were macaroons were enough as a side dish for a fulfilling dinner. Of course I paired it with a glass of Merlot which made the dinner even more appetizing. The salad had bits of bacon on it which neutralize the sweetness of the red port sauce. And the sole tomato was fresh and crunchy.

My companion’s dinner looked just a bloke of meat to me but he said he was very satisfied with it. I am not particularly fond of game dishes so I couldn’t tell if it’s good or not.

“But it has the texture of horse’s meat,” I told him. So far I’ve tasted reindeer, deer and elk meat and every time I eat them, I think of those dried horse meat that my dad used to bring for me from Marinduque. I loved that stuff especially when deep fried and crunchy.

After the dinner I realized, you can’t really judge a restaurant by its crappy interior.

As I passed once more the Castle of the Counts and the boat terminal, I am already wishing to be back to Ghent soon. A whole weekend is needed see this city but four hours is enough to start loving it.

Weekend Guide: Stavelot, Coo and Spa

Weekend Guide: Stavelot, Coo and Spa

It was a long overdue weekend with nature. As the original plan of exploring the neat forests of Netherlands was shelved, it was decided instead to go for a weekend trip to the next best place, the nearest and which comes closer to the Filipino idea of a real forest. The place was the Ardennes. Colors of autumn, thick layers of leaves on walking paths and shower of leaves flashed through my mind. But the beauty that the Ardennes has prepared is unexpected.

The Ardennes is a region covering the province of Limburg in Belgium, Luxemburg and the Champagne in France, consisted of old dense forests, rolling hills, valleys and rivers. It is a favorite and a usual destination among Belgians, French and the Dutch during summer and springtime because of the many activities that one can do there. Nature’s endowment makes it a perfect location for kayaking, hiking, cycling, trekking, rappelling and even skydiving.  There are facilities for both children and adults and each part of the Ardennes can be enjoyed as one wishes to, either in solitude among the chirping birds in the forest or with friends riding a cable car.

Our timing is a bit off and we were expecting a downpour. Nonetheless, there was no better time for the trip so we pack our boxes of supplies and drove up the mountains on a wind-swept Friday. After a two-hour drive, the car passed through a plateau overlooking the pine trees and the valleys of the Ardennes. Suddenly the “platteland” of Holland disappeared from my mind, replaced instead with the sights of fiery trees, sheep and cows grazing in the green grass and the lush forest below. As we raced further up the mountains, the scenery turned into a completely colorful journey of red, yellow, brown and green adorning the side of the roads.

We reached the old town of Stavelot, home to the 650 AD-Abbey, at around 4PM while the sun is already setting. After another 30 minutes it got very dark, preventing the beautiful sunset to be photographed. The first night was spent with a cold tuna and vegetable pie, few glasses of Merlot and hours of sitting in the small living room of the hexagon cottage, reading our favorite novels. The exquisite darkness outside and the freezing temperature creating dewdrops in the glass is a nice contrast to the warmth inside the cottage. I was lulled to sleep by the sound of raindrops.

It was only when I woke did I appreciate the tranquility of the place that my parents in-law rented, one of those oddly-shaped chalet at Landal Domaine Long Pré. The place was situated at the foot of the mountain, with a man-made lake nearby and surrounded by bald trees and fiery-red fir as it was autumn. It has been a long time since I was waken up by sunlight and the chirping of beds and on that Sunday morning, I didn’t mind having a different alarm clock.

Random Saturday

There was no itinerary prepared and the activities of the day depended only on the names of the place that we can remember. At nine in the morning, we drove down the town of Coo, about 10 minutes ride from Stavelot,  to visit the twin waterfalls and make an early  morning hike.

The waterfalls were a disappointment as I’ve seen bigger and higher cascades in the Philippines but the hike in the autumn-colored hills, on the ground made soft by wet soil and bed of fallen leaves, was an entirely new experience, save for the difficulty of ascending the slippery path up the hill. But once on top of the Promenade des Belvederes, the Ardennes reveals a beauty that can only be appreciated by the naked eye.

During autumn, the whole of Ardennes mountain turns into a panorama of brown and yellow with only hints of green here and there. From the Coo waterfalls, the beautiful Ambeleve River runs its quiet course passing through several towns in Liege and finally settles in another rive, Ourthe. The Ambleve has created several historic viaducts and bridges all around Eastern Belgium including one mighty high which names escaped me. The banks of the River Ambleve is always a preferred trail for cyclists from all over Europe.

Not replacing the Dutch tradition despite getting drunk on breath-taking scenery, we headed to town to find a restaurant where we can have coffee. Interestingly, in this restaurant one of their specialty is fresh mussels from Yerseke. After the coffee break we were back on the road, this time heading to Stavelot town where the Great Abby is located.

The only Abbey I’ve seen so far in my life was the recently built abbey in my hometown but that wouldn’t compare to the proportions of The Abbey of the Prince-Bishops of Stavelot. It has since been renovated (to the tune of 16million euros) but the remains of the originals walls and archeological can still be seen on its grounds.

I was asked if I wanted to explore the inside of the abbey but I declined. I’m sure there were a lot of surprises hidden behind the imposing red walls of the abbey but I wasn’t too keen that day on absorbing too much information. I only wanted to enjoy the view.

We walked further around the back of the town and wandered (at least I did)  in amazement at the the old Belgian houses and the charming bridge at the back of the Abbey. There was even an old military truck near the river, a remnant of the savagery (during the Battle of the Bulge) that this old town witnessed during World War II.

In the evening we went back to Coo for dinner. It was cold, raining and dark so we walked into the first restaurant that we saw, La Truite Gourmande. It’s probably one of those mid-range French/Belgian restaurants around the area. Gastronomic-wise, we really don’t have any idea where to eat in Coo.

It was a “gezellige” dinner as the Dutch would say. Our waiter is an old French and Belgian speaking man, one of those in the hospitality service who still takes pride in what he does. My parents in-law knew a little French so they made small talk with the friendly old man. Of course, he recommended dishes that we gladly ordered.

For starters I ordered the exclusive Ardenness ham, which our old waiter said is only available for a few months every year. The Ardenness ham (not to be confused with the Ardennes Dry Ham which is from France) is made from the Celts pigs which are a local breed , found only in the regions of the Ardennes. Actually I am not so much of a ham-eater but one distinctive feature that I can remember of this ham is its salteness. Sliced thinly and served with carrots, red cabbage, lettuce and tomatoes, Ardennes ham can be best enjoyed with a glass of red wine.

My mother in-law doesn’t eat meat so she naturally went for the fish, which happens to be the restaurant’s specialty, Truite Gourmande or in literal translation means “greedy trout”.  I didn’t hear her complain so I assumed her fish was delicious.

Meanwhile my father in-law and I both ordered lamb fillet in basilicum and red wine sauce while the husband ordered duck in crème fraiche, figs and strawberries. I can only recall that the lamb was soft and chewy and that I exchanged my dish for that of my husband. The strawberries and figs with the duck is a pleasant combination for me because of the contrast between sweetness and a bit of salteness and lamb is not exactly my favorite *only found about it later. We dined with full bodied  French “verre vin rouge” which names I’ve forgotten. We went back to our chalet satisfied and exhausted in a happy way. But this time, I slept with the sounds of the crickets.

Sunday market

Early Sunday morning, my mother in-law picked up freshly-baked bread that you can order from the reception. Then we had the usual Dutch breakfast of bread, jam and cold cuts (we brought them all the way from Zeeland) with warm cup of espresso from the espresso machine that we also brought all the to the mountains of the Ardennes.

After cleaning up the chalet, we drove to another nearby town. It was raining so hard and we weren’t really up for so much exploring. So we end up in the sleepy town of Spa, where the famous bottled water came from.

I was thrilled to discover that there was a Sunday market right in the center of town. Like any Sunday flea market in Europe, vendors are hawking food, clothes, jewelry and other non-essential stuff. But these stalls and their wares always appeal to me although I didn’t really buy anything except for a warm cup of chocolate milk and churros.

As the afternoon draws, we didn’t have enough time to explore the rest of Spa, especially the castles. I would have wanted to stay longer but all of us has to go to work the next day. So we left the town and drive back to the Netherlands. The road that runs through the Liege province offers you a view of rolling hills and charming villages and even just by sitting in the car, you will appreciate the beauty of the Ardennes.

Travel tips

Some few travel tips to help you plan your weekend (or longer) in the Ardennes.

Stavelot has a carnival called the Laetare of Stavelot where men dressed in white, put on a red, pointy noses (the Blancs-Moussis). It is sort of a parody for the monks of the 15th century. Happens every 4th Sunday of Lent. Just this early, I am already planning to join the carnival since I missed it last year.

Meanwhile the nearby Spa is  home to the Circuit de Spa-Francorchamps the famous Formula One Belgian Grand Prix. It would be nice to time your visit during the race.

In the Stavelot-Abbey there are three musuems, one is the Spa Francorchamps Racetrack museum, the museum of Polish poet Guillaume Apollinaire and the Museum of the Principality of Stavelot-Malmédy where symbols of the French art and culture is displayed. From January to September 2011, original works of Andy Warhol and his contemporaries will be displayed.

Coo would be the best place to take your children if you are planning to take them to the Ardennes. Plopsacoo is a theme park with adventures designed for kids like roller coaster rides and midget golf. In the summer it can get busy so better to book your hotel early.

Weekend activity: Flea markets

Weekend activity: Flea markets

Trying out this cute mask in a flea market in Brugge

I have the fondest memories of flea markets. When I was about 7 years old, my family lived in this very small building in the middle of our village’s market area. Every Thursday and Sunday  morning, I will do the rounds of inspecting all the different products they are selling, from the colorful toys to the fresh fishes. Vendors from different parts of our 6-town province come to the flea market every Thursday to sell their wares. It was always a joy to see different products every week and interact with different people. Our village is so small that it must only have a thousand residents and seeing the faces of these strangers is already a huge joy to a 7-year old like myself. In addition to the things that they are carrying whenever they do their weekly visits. Back then our family also has a little soy sauce and vinegar business and we also hawk them in the flea market. But the most enjoyable for me was when the market closes, I’d once again walk around the area, this time inspecting the ground for loose coins and sometimes bills. You can’t imagine how many loose coins are there when all the tables and stalls had been dismantled. Me and my friends would have a great time scouting the grounds for them. More