01 Aug 2012: The Quest for a Good Waffle

01 Aug 2012:

The Quest for a Good Waffle

Bruges, West Flanders, Belgium/Brussels, Brussels-Capital, Belgium

H: 25/28 L: 11/12 Weather: Mostly Cloudy/Clear

The weather on the first of August was absolutely beautiful: sunny, with only a few clouds, and finally summertime temperatures rather than the fallishness of previous days.  I had to plan for the last few days of my trip, and it was hard to think how little time I had left.  In just 5 days I'd be leaving for the US.  Yikes!

I set off into town, hoping for good things.  I had found a place on TripAdvisor that had promised delicious waffles and found a brewery that gave free tours.  But neither ended up panning out very well.  By the time I actually made it to the center of the town, I wasn't able to find the waffle place very quickly, and ended up getting a waffle from a cheap tourist stand kind of thing.  I got it loaded with whipped cream and cherries, but, as I realize everytime I get real cherries, I don't actually like cherries.  I just like the fake cherry flavor.  So, I wasn't that pleased by my Belgian waffle experience.  I then set off for the brewery, but was against disappointed when I wasn't able to find it even despite the cheap tourist map I had managed to procure.

Instead, I headed for an art museum I had written down.  With only a €1 entrance fee, I was happy no matter what the actual contents of the museum were.  Unfortunately for me, though, I had only a couple of €20 notes and a €1 coin, so when I had to pay the €1 deposit for a locker I was out of coins.  I had to awkwardly ask to get my €20 broken just to pay the deposit.  The museum ended up being pretty itty-bitty as far as European museums go, and was full of Flemish artists I had never really heard of.  In fact, it was only Flemish artists, without even a Walloon to be found.  It was a good way to spend some time, I suppose, but I don't think I would've paid the €9 general entrance fee just for what was there.

Next, it was time for a tour of the city.  The tour was free, actually, or "free", to be more precise, as the tour guide asked for a "tip" at the end of the tour based on how good his guidance was.  Our tour guide was named Kai, and he was a puertorriqueño who had lived in Brooklyn for much of his youth.  He seemed surprised that I picked up on his East Coast roots, but based on the way he was saying "tour" (/tɔɹ/, how I would pronounce the non-word "tore", rhyming with "bore", "door", etc.) it was pretty obvious.

Kai was an entertaining and interesting tour guide, giving some local color and entertaining anecdotes.  However, it was clear why the tour was free: it was also an advertisement.  In the middle of the tour, he interrupted things to give us a sales pitch for a variety of stores (including the disappointing waffle shop from earlier in the day).  We also got a drink from a local pub, which was pretty good.  All in all, I was somewhat disappointed by the relative lack of historical information; Bruges is clearly a city that knows how long it's been there, but I didn't learn all that much that I didn't already know.  Still, Kai was great even despite that.  The tour also gave me a chance to chat with people, including a pair of couchsurfers who had wandered into Kai the day before named Gwen (from Miami originally) and Thomas (originally Austrian, now an Internet entrepreneur who didn't actually need a physical location anymore), who were pretty awesome to get to know.

After the tour was done and Kai was tipped, Gwen, Thomas, and I went out to a bar that Kai had pointed out during the tour.  Said bar served a type of beer that had been brewed for hundreds of years at the same location and was sold absolutely nowhere else in the entire world, and it was pretty delicious.  Feeling giddy, we decided we wanted to have waffles, but we found none at Bruges's train station, which was a bit counterintuitive and completely frustrating.  Instead, we had muffins, and what muffins they were!  Have I mentioned I love the baked goods of Europe?  Because, for serious.

I got on board the train to Brussels with Gwen.  We went our separate ways (though she was kind enough to point me in the right direction for the Metro), with me headed to my hostel to relax for the evening.  My hostel was called Stayhere, and I promise you, if you're interested in Brussels at all, follow the imperative expressed by the hostel's name.  It's a pretty marvelous place, basically a large old townhome converted into a hostel.  The place is super laid back.  I was rather concerned when I saw nowhere to lock up my valuables upon entering the hostel, but, wait a sec, the owner is clearly trusting all his patrons with his stuff, so why shouldn't we all trust each other with our stuff?

On my way in, I met a Texan, who was from the University of North Texas's geography department.  I thought we'd get along fine, so I sat out on the patio area with a pair that arrived earlier.  They were from New Zealand, and immediately started trying to guess where I was from... I think I heard California, Georgia, Canada, and New York before I decided to call a stop to it.  The Texan came down to join us, and the three of them immediately started talking guns.

Now, I know I am vocal in my dislike of goal unit acquisition activities.  This time, though, I learned that there was a topic I was even less capable of holding a conversation about than goal units.  I know nothing about guns.  In fact, I think guns are horrible and rather terrifying.  At least goal units don't often kill people, and I'm familiar with the rules and the terms of most goal unit acquisition events.  However, the people from New Zealand were clearly exceedingly impressed by the US's freewheeling attitude towards gun ownership, and the Texan was all too happy to show them YouTube videos of him shooting his guns out on some range.  When they left to go out for the night, I bid them adieu, and scooted off towards bed. (And what a bed!  Did I mention this hostel was awesome?)