Going to Gent

I nearly didn't come to Gent.
I'd ummed and ahhhed. Though about coming just for the day. Thought about not coming at all. Finally I made a decision. There was a reasonably priced bus leaving from Gent on Monday morning to Paris. Instead of getting up super early for the train from Bruges, I decided to go up on Sunday and spend the night.
Thanks to a post in the last-minute group I found a CouchSurfing host, the bus ticket was booked. I was going to Gent.

I arrived about 10.30am and stored my luggage at the train station. I'd had to remind myself that while the pictures I'd seen looked a lot like Brugge, this time I was in a proper city. Meaning the distance from where I was and where I wanted to get was more than walking distance. I was also without a map (there were none at the train station???) but I took a chance and jumped on a train heading (hopefully) into the centre.

I didn't know much about Gent, so I turned to a post by one of my favourite travel bloggers, Matt, from Landlopers. He was here recently and posted an article called 42 Things I Love About Gent. I picked out a few things that interested me and off I went.

My first stop was the Sunday flower market. Apparently this is a very local thing to visit, although probably not anymore since Matt's site gets thousands and thousands of hits. I strolled through the stalls and wished I could have bought some flowers. Then I had a hot chocolate and piece of cake (the cake was free!!) at a small espresso stand. This is what one does when one arrives at the flower market. Then I continued into town, walked around and found the tourist information. It was one of the best tourist information centres I've ever seen. There was a great selection of free maps and the people at the desk were asking the most basic of questions (always a good sign). I asked for directions to a great waffle place Matt had written about and headed that way, only to learn the waffles aren't served until 2pm.

I went in search of a chocolate place, but that was closed and found myself back at the flower market. This time a second trailer cafe was open - this one serving oysters and champagne. (Apparently this is what one does after they have finished buying their flowers). I was tempted to join in but at nearly 8 euro for half-dozen oysters, I gave it a miss.

I bought some "Gent noses" (proper Dutch name is neuzen) from a street stall. It's a cone-shaped confectionery which the seller described as the diamonds of gent. I was told, after I bought some, that my life was now saved. As I munched on a bread roll and some Griekse Brood (Greek bread) I stumbled across the Graffiti Street. There isn't much graffiti in the city - it all seems be in this one alley. It looked like it belonged in San Francisco or Berlin. Certainly not Gent.

I ate my neuzens by the canal and counted down until 2pm. With time to kill I headed to St Bravos - one of the many many churches in Gent. But this one is home to a "must see" - the Adoration of the Mystic Lamb. This was painted by two Belgium brothers in the early 15th century. My visitors guide compared it to the Mona Lisa. I figured at a cost of only 4 euro and with no lines, I could see what the fuss was all about. The entry fee includes an audio guide, which made the viewing much more interesting. And I was definitely impressed, but it's not really my thing. The Church itself is also beautiful, but I spent most of my time in there giving dirty looks to people ignoring the "No photography" sign. People were not being subtle at all. The lack of respect always frustrates me.

Then it was waffle time!!! Max's supposedly has the best waffles in Gent. Perhaps even in Belgium. The lady at the tourist information said she takes her children there once a year. I ordered a waffled with ice cream, fruit and chocolate. It was yummy but was it worth the 15 euro? I'll be writing a post on it later so you can find out then.

Absolutely stuffed I finally found the energy to walk some more, this time exploring the Patershol, one of the oldest areas of the city. The literal translation of the name Patershol is "Monk's Arse". There was a monastery at the end of the neighbourhood and the sewerage from that flowed into this area, which was were the town's poorest lived. The area now is much nicer and full of lots of restaurants and bars. I spent a while walking around and eventually found a canal to follow round to the port. I kept walking, crossed back over the city centre and started exploring along the other side, eventually coming back to the centre. Every time I find myself back in the main square, I'm always surprise. I'm never where I think I am.

A little tired from walking and still with a couple of hours to kill before meeting my host, I tried to visit the castle, but it was only an hour from closing and they'd stopped letting people in. So I went to the Design Museum, which was probably more up my alley anyway.

I came out and it was nearly dark. I had just enough time to catch the tram back to the station, pick up my bag and ride the tram back into the city. I spent half an hour photographing the city at night before meeting Otto, my CS host.

His home is a beautiful high-ceilinged studio just one street away from the castle. His house is older than Australia and used to be a brothel.

Paris tomorrow.