Beers, Bruges, and Bye Bye
Here we are, friends. The end of the road. The grand finale. Can you believe it? Well you probably can, you’ve spent the last five months listening to me witter on about one thing and another and you’re probably reading this muttering “thank goodness for that.” But for us, it’s rather a sad moment, the end of a very exciting, sometimes challenging, and usually booze soaked chapter. But more on that later, first we have a very important stop to make on the way to our final destination.
Our journey from Champagne to Belgium would take us through an area that bore witness to some of the most devastating scenes in human history. We drove through areas where, 102 years ago to the day, the Battle of the Somme raged during World World 1. On July 1, 1916, the first day of the battle, British Forces suffered over 57,000 casualties in one day. It is still the bloodiest day in the history of the British Army. They gained just three miles of territory. In total, more 17 million people were killed during World War 1 and I’d like to tell you about just one of them.
Captain Frank Marshall was part of the Manchester Regiment. He was shot and killed by a sniper on March 17th, 1916 just under a mile from the town of Morlancourt, near Albert. He was my great, great Uncle on my Dad's side. When you drive through this part of France, you go past cemetery after cemetery of war graves. Nothing can prepare you for how you feel when you visit the area to pay your respects and remember the fallen. When you visit the grave of a fallen relative, that feeling becomes intensely personal and completely overwhelming.
We stopped on a small dirt track in the middle of crop fields to find the exact spot where Captain Marshall was shot. When the sky is bright blue, the fields are green and the only sound is the birds singing, it’s impossible to imagine the horrors that happened here. I looked at the north west tree line where the sniper’s bullet came from and tried to imagine a young Captain and his soldiers here 100 years ago. I placed a rose at the edge of the field and said a few quiet words. Then we headed to Meaulte Military Cemetary where Captain Marshall is buried, one of the 410 Commonwealth cemeteries in the Somme. Almost every one of them has a small shelter when you can come and visit, in all weathers, to be with loved ones. Meaulte is beautifully kept with flowers planted beside each grave, and it’s there, in row B, grave 19, in the peaceful sunshine, that Captain Frank Marshall is remembered along side 293 other heroes. I placed two bouquets, one from us and one from Mum and Dad, at the headstone and chatted to Captain Marshall for a while. I plan to come back again to see more of this incredible area and to remember what happened here. It’s important we all remember and never forget.
And so we journeyed on to our final destination on this Tails of Wine adventure - the mighty city of Bruges. I last visited many years ago with my parents, where we did our darnedest to eat at least one jar of chocolate spread by breakfast each day (much to the astonishment of our charming B&B host) and try as many local delicacies as possible by dinner time. Chocolate by the fist full, waffles, all sorts of steak and many, many frites. It was a delightfully gluttonous weekend remembered very fondly in our family. So there was a lot to live up to. Mr T had never visited before but given his love for beer, chocolate, and chips with mayonnaise, I figured he’d be a local in no time.
I have to confess to having help on this leg of the tour. My friend, PR guru and all round jolly good chap Jesse is from Bruges and he had once again gone above and beyond to make sure we had an amazing time. Pretty much every recommendation in this post came from him and everywhere we went was fantastic. He is, as they say, the man.
As it was our last few nights of the trip we decided to treat ourselves and stay at the Hotel De Tuilerieën, a 15th Century house transformed into a lovely hotel. Set on the most beautiful canal in town, the Den Dijver, the hotel is a few steps away from Rozenhoedkaai, one of the most famous view points in Bruges, and just a few more steps the other way is the amazing Bonifacius Bridge. We were treated to an enormous room on the second floor which we were thrilled with and wasted no time in enjoying to the full. I’m sure the man helping with our luggage was not as thrilled, somehow in the past two weeks we had accumulated 12 cases of wine which all needed to be brought inside. I expect he is still cursing us. Sorry mate.
The WonderDog had managed to sniff out the ocean on the way here so she politely requested a beach day. And because we’re a push over, we duly obliged. Off to Blankenberge we went in the most glorious sunshine for a cracking morning of chasing ball, swimming and general merriment. After that it was time for lunch and a few beers at the Brouwerij De Halve Maan, or Half Moon Brewery to me and you. I was a big fan of the Brugse Zot which I think means idiot or fool, which is pretty much what you’re going to be after a few of those. Mr T was more a Straffe Hendrik which means Strong Henry if I remember correctly. Mr T assured me he felt like he’d be sat on by Strong Henry the next morning after a particularly festive evening.
The next day, to blow away some of the beer cobwebs, we decided to rent bikes and cycle to Holland for lunch. ‘Cos why not. We figured Shadow couldn’t run all the way to another country and back, so we did the sensible thing and rented one of those little carriages for the back of the bike that she could sit in. After all she’s very adaptable and doesn’t really complain about anything. I guess we found the one thing that she does complain about.
I thought it would have more of a solid bottom to it, like maybe some hard wood or at least sturdy cardboard. But no, this one had more of a canvas bottom which Shadow, quite understandably, wasn’t a fan of. By the time we had cycled out of the city and half way to Holland, she wasn’t best pleased. We had words. She can say a lot with her eyes, this dog.
Me: “It’s not so bad.”
Shadow: “I can’t even with you two. The indignity. The embarrassment.”
Me: “Oh don’t be so dramatic. We’re going to Holland! It’ll be great.”
Shadow: “I’m not going back in that contraption. Go on without me.”
Me: “It’s perfectly safe. Kids sit in this thing. It’s an adventure.”
Shadow: “It may be fine for kids but might I remind you of my WonderDog status. I refuse.
Me: “You can’t run all the way to Holland and back Shadow.”
Shadow: “Watch me.”
And so she did, pretty much, and loved every minute of it. She was none the worse for wear, but Mr T and I were nursing sore buns for a couple of days. Clearly we’re the weak links in this crew, but then you knew that already, didn’t you?
The rest of our time in the amazing city of Bruges was spent walking the cobbled streets, visiting the sculptures and windmills, visiting beer houses, pubs and other drinking establishments and drinking many great beers. Since you asked, the best place for beer is the Brugs Beertje which has over 300 types of beer would you believe. We didn't try all of them, before you ask. We visited the very best chocolate shop in Bruges. Bearing in mind you see chocolate shops on every corner, you may wonder why I’m recommending you go all the way out of the centre of town, to a small street in the north of the city. And then you step into Speghelaere in the Ezelstraat, and you’ll know why. It is, as Jesse directed, the only place you’re allowed to buy chocolate in Bruges. Get the horses heads and you won’t be disappointed (not a sentence you get to write every day).
We also watched England play in the World Cup quarter finals and win on penalties, I wasn’t even sure til the next morning whether it was real or just too much fool beer but happily it was all true. We tried many local dishes, including Flemish stew (even though it was 30 degrees), “garnaalkroket” or grey shrimp croquettes, which are much more delicious than they sound, and even the little sweets in the shape of the Madonna you get with coffee. I checked and it is ok to bite her head off, you won't get struck down by lightning (apparently). We also had our first burger in ages at a place called Ellis Gourmet Burgers which we’d recommend. There's something about being in a posh hotel watching football and eating take away burgers that really can't be beaten.
Bruges treated us like old friends during our time there and it was the very best way to end our trip. It has to be one of the most delightful cities in the world and one that we will go back to again, especially as it’s only a couple hours from where we will be living in the UK. Once my liver and waist line have recovered that is, we might have to limit ourselves to one trip a year! It was the perfect way to end this trip of a lifetime, in a city that welcomed us and made us feel at home.
I wish I had a pithy conclusion or some great crescendo to end on, something wise and meaningful. But you’ve been along for the ride the whole way, you know as much as I do, probably even more so. You don’t need me to tell you that if everyone travelled a bit more and experienced life from the different perspectives we've seen along the way, the world might perhaps be a kinder place. You know that already. I don’t need to remind you how lucky we are to have been on this trip of a lifetime, you’ve seen it all first hand. And maybe that’s the point. What I’d really like to say is thank you for keeping us company. When we had our dark days when we were freezing cold, nothing was going right and we thought we might die crossing a bridge in a violent storm in Portugal, it helped to know you were there cheering us on. And on our best days, on the days we had to pinch ourselves and thank our lucky stars, you were right there smiling with us. Thanks for being the best wingmen and women we could hope for. It’s been an honour to have you in the back seat. We’ll see you for another ride sometime soon. Here’s to the next chapter.
