So, just the other day, I found myself wandering around Bruges, and, honestly, I didn't even plan to go there. I was meant to head somewhere else entirely, but then my train got all wonky, and somehow I ended up in this gorgeous little Belgian town. You've probably heard about it—the quaint canals, the medieval architecture, and that sweet chocolate smell wafting around everywhere. I must admit, I'd seen photos before and thought, "Eh, it looks pretty," but they really don't do it justice. There's this whole vibe, and the moment I stepped out of the station, it felt like stepping into a storybook.
So, my first day in Bruges was… weird
I can't even explain the first impression I had. The moment I walked into the market square, I was half-in awe and half-baffled. It was kind of crowded, but the kind of crowd that doesn't outright bother you. It felt festive, like… a mix of a fair and a cozy family gathering, you know? People were milling about, stopping for fresh waffles, and there's this sound of laughter everywhere. I wasn't really prepared for how, um, enchanting all the cobbled streets would be.
But then there was this moment where I thought, “Wait, am I in a movie?” There was a horse-drawn carriage clopping toward me, and the clattering went perfectly with the whimsical feel of the place. I mean, who doesn't love a good horse clip-clop while they're strolling? But the whole fairytale vibe hit hard when I noticed the buildings—gothic spires and colorful facades—it honestly made my head spin a little. I mean, could it be… too charming?
I was soaking it all in when I accidentally bumped into this street performer. I don't even know what he was playing but he had this wild, unkempt hair and some crazy tunes coming from his makeshift stage. Whatever it was—an accordion? guitar? some combo of both?—I stopped, entranced. There's something about music in such an atmosphere that gets to you, right? It just felt like he was playing just for me, and in that moment, I forgot the hassle of the day.
The meal that still haunts me (in a good way)
Now, let's talk about food—because if you haven't indulged in the local cuisine, did you even visit Bruges? I stumbled upon this little bistro, called De Halve Maan. Honestly, the name was so odd I had to go in. I don't know why I picked this place; maybe because I was hungry and it was close? Anyway, I ended up ordering a mussels and fries dish. It sounds boring, right? But when it arrived, it was anything but.
Picture this: a steaming pot of mussels so fresh they could practically swim away. Must've been a dozen sitting in that glorious broth, and they came with a side of the best fries I've ever had. I know, I'm getting dramatic about fries here, but you've got to believe me—they were crisp and fluffy and just… buttery enough without being overly greasy (how do they even pull that off?). And of course, being in Belgium, I did what any reasonable person would do: drown those fries in mayo.
But here's the kicker—while I was enjoying this heavenly meal, I ended up sitting near a group of locals, and we struck up a conversation. They were cracking jokes, and there I was, laughing along even though I didn't understand half of what they were saying. Still, it felt… inclusive, you know? I don't remember ever laughing so freely while shoveling mussels into my mouth. At one point, it felt surreal, like they were inviting me into their circle, sharing their lives and experiences—combined with a generous portion of fries, of course.
This one street? Totally unplanned, totally worth it
So, the next day, I woke up a little bleary-eyed but somehow determined to explore even more of Bruges. I figured a stroll would do me good, and ended up wandering through the streets without really looking for anything specific. I… kind of got lost at one point. You know, one wrong turn led to this other wrong turn, and before I knew it, I stumbled upon this itty-bitty alleyway that wasn't on any map I'd checked before.
And, wow, was it magical. It felt like stepping into a hidden cinematic treasure. Cobblestone underfoot, narrow enough that you could almost reach out and touch both sides at once—I just stood there taking it all in. Flowers were hanging from the windowsills, all vibrant colors that popped against the aged brick, and it felt a million miles away from the touristy spots. I later learned it was called Begijnhof. There's something romantic about it—serenity surrounded by the chaos of the main square. I mean, how did I even end up here?
I walked through, allowing the moment to wash over me, and it was this beautiful contrast. I loved that there was no rush, just me and this quaint little spot that felt like a well-kept secret. You don't always get that, you know? Just stumbling upon something that takes your breath away like that—it kind of reaffirms why we travel in the first place, right?
As I made my way back toward the busy canals, it felt a bit bittersweet. Part of me wanted to stay, linger a little longer, but I noticed the day was slipping away and who knows when I'd get back?
So, Bruges—what a strange little place, but also so beautifully perfect. I caught myself wondering how I'd ever go back, or if I'd want to. Maybe I should get lost more often?
And I guess that's sort of it—just reflections on the best things to do in Bruges, woven through a day of getting lost in this dreamlike place. It's funny how the path least planned often turns out to be the most rewarding, isn't it?
