Day 1 in Brugge

Lucie's dad drove me to the train station today.
We were driving along the road and came to what I first thought were abandoned toll booths. Perhaps a new road was built and they no longer charge tolls for this.
Nope.
The Belgium border.
Just like that I was in another country.
It's an experience I've had a few times in the last 18 or so months, but it still amazes me. This just isn't possible in Australia. Drive for days on end and you're still in Australia or in the ocean.
The train from Lille to Brugge would have cost about 40euro, because it would have been the international TGV train. Catching local trains is much cheaper so I'd planned to go from Lille across the border to Kortrijk and then from Kortrijk to Brugge. It would have cost about 15 euro, but Lucie's dad (I realise now I never got her parent's names) offered to drive me to Kortrijkto save me changing trains. My train was then 7euro...a big difference from 40. It always pays to do your research.

My CouchSurfing host had given me directions to catch the bus from the train station in Brugge to his place, but the weather was fine and it didn't look that far so I walked instead. It took me about 40 minutes along the canal. Marcel lives a street or two outside the centre of the city, but it's not a big place so it's still only 10 minutes or so from the centre of the old town.

I spent an hour or so chatting to Marcel before venturing into the old town for a walk around. Brugge is nicknamed Venice of the North (although the people here prefer to call Venice the Brugge of the South). Both cities have canals and lots of twisty, narrow streets but that's where the similarities end as far as I can see.

Brugge, of course, is known for it's chocolate. There are more than 50 chocolate shops here. A few names have cropped up repeatedly in my research so I planned to visit them. I found The Chocolate Line, which a couchsurfer who couldn't host me had suggested I visit. With Valentines Day a week away there's a definite theme in the window displays. I chose some chocolates - you buy them in little boxes, so three for 3.90, or five for whatever, and eight and so on. I chose two and then asked the sales assistant to put in her favourite.

Barely 50 metres down the street I came across Dumon; this one had come up in a lot of guidebooks. I stopped in here for a hot chocolate and got two free chocolates with that. Not bad for 2.50euro. I chose another box of three and decided I better do some walking. I only ate one of the chocolates I bought - a melocake from The Chocolate Line. Marshmellow covered in chocolate with this surprise little biscuit base. Oh my god it was amazing. I knew there was crap chocolate, better chocolate and fancy chocolate but this was a whole other level. I could feel it in my body like a drug and I immediately wanted another. I walked in the opposite direction to the shop.

I spent the next few hours walking down any street that looked interesting. I rarely knew where I was, but when I thought I should start heading back I just looked for the Belfry and walked towards that.

I cooked dinner for Marcel and then we headed out to see the city at night - it's his favourite time to be in the city. There are tourists here all year round. Although the Markt Square was pretty bare, there were still plenty of camera-totting visitors around. Even in the rain. So Marcel prefers to head out after they've all called it a night.

I had my own tour guide as we walked along the canal. We stopped in at a bar where some of his friends work for a quick drink and then continued on walking. We covered A LOT of the city and Marcel pointed out a few things I'll go back and visit. It was 11pm when we walked passed a bar he frequents. We walked straight by but we were just out of view when his phone rang. A mate in the bar had spotted him so we went in for a drink. The bar was only steps from the Markt and I thought that would have made it a prime "tourist trap" but apparently it's really popular with locals. You never can tell.

After about three hours of walking, we called it a night.