Brugge is a picture story, a living museum, a place to go that is near Antwerp and far away from the present. Brugge is a kind of fairy tale place in a country of castles, palaces, high fashion districts where a single purse sells for thousands and diamonds glitter n’ shimmer like so many tear drops in rows upon rows of store windows and – and where the ghost of King Leopold 11 still haunts people like me.
Yes, Brugge is a dreamy place with a sleepy winding river full of tourist boats and horse drawn wagons click clopping along cobbled streets and candy makers happily making their candies – a UNESCO world heritage site, the capital of West Flanders, city of Flemish speakers.
Brugge is a place to forget the past while wandering through ancient streets; a peaceful place to enjoy a picnic of red wine and cheese and not think about blood diamonds or the horror of King Leopold’s reign of terror in the African Congo – but that is another blog. And really, what has any of this to do with Bruges – in particular?
So, in the meantime, go ahead and enjoy the picturesqueness of this charming little glimpse of another time free of the horror — the horror of the trickery, egoism and some would say and have said, the sadistic greed that drove the colonization of the Congo in the past and keeps the blood diamonds flowing.
After all, I took the photos because I was enchanted with this walk into the past, content to sit in the lovely grove of trees in the monastery of Santca Elisabeth and breath in the silence, excited to climb the medieval stair case – 520 steps – along with the other tourist, enchanted by the vista, eager to capture it all with my lens, that, for a few hours, carried me away from the present. It was not until later that I started to feel so, so …. um – what is this feeling?
Yep – there is no graffiti in Brugge.