Despite the jet lag, we were up and at it on Saturday morning and a few hours later, after a quick detour to see Dover castle and the white cliffs, we were popping under the English channel via the Eurotunnel and in France, where we drive straight to Bruges, Belgium. Our third time in Bruges did not disappoint and with Mum and Gemma there, it was like seeing it all with fresh eyes.
We were staying at a cute little B&B, with an owner who was as kind as pie – a true Belgian, which Mum took to like a duck to water. She relished the opportunity to find out as much as she could about life in Belgium, taking particular fondness to his pet cat whose name, pronounced Boosh me, means little angel.
We spent the afternoon wandering the streets, stuffing our faces with Belgian frites, soaking it all up, before hiding out the cold weather in a cozy little restaurant/ pub down a cobbled side street, which is where Mum and Gemma had their first taste of mulled wine. It was here that we noticed they were both about to drop dead from exhaustion if they didn’t get home to bed that instant, so after a quick dinner we were all tucked up in bed and asleep by 8.30pm!
After a 12 hour sleep, we managed to drag ourselves out of bed and down to breakfast, only to be greet with Mum and Gemma looking as fresh as daisies and chewing the owner’s ear off about the history of his B&B, the city Bruges, his personal life and of course, little Boosh Me. The only thing they probably didn’t know was his mother’s maiden name! Breakfast was delicious and he had laid out a real spread, each bite more beautiful than the last. I know Gems and Mum were blown away by it and having such fresh enthusiasm really made the experience for us as well – it was like seeing it all again with fresh, not quite so travel-tired eyes and it reminded us of how much we have to be grateful for.
It must be said, while we spent the whole afternoon exploring Belgium the day before, I don’t know how much they both took in thanks to extreme exhaustion, so with this in mind we headed back into the city centre, where everything was very well-received – much more so than the day before. The sun was shining, the weather of course freezing, but nevertheless a glorious day was had. We stumbled across a wee market, drowned ourselves in liquid chocolate, had Belgian waffles and got lost amongst the little cobbles side streets – never a dull moment! We could have stayed here all day, but the allure of another country being just 50 minutes away was too much for the wee tykes and we hit the road in the afternoon, en route to Lille, France, which we first visited last year during the Christmas markets. Unlike last year which was very much in the middle of a blizzard, the sun was shining on Lille and it almost felt as if we were visiting an entirely different city. In fact I would have thought so had Brad, bless him, not been able to navigate me to the best shoe shop ever that I first visited a whole 54 weeks ago. I was blown away then and even more so now, not just with Brad’s extreme navigational skills, but also with the panic which came over me as I grabbed box after box of pretty, cheap shoes from all corners of the room. Mum and Gemma of course joined in and we left the store 30 minutes later with a spring in our step, and Brad weighed down by six boxes of shoes between us – four for me!
We explored the market, looked in shops, stuffed our faces with massive German sausages and sauerkraut and people-watched. I then lead us in the direction of the town square which housed a massive Ferris wheel, providing the best views of the entire city. We all piled in, without a seatbelt in sight, and it wasn’t until we were three metres above ground that Mum started to panic, remembering how much she hated heights! She went white and all she could manage to say was ‘I don’t know what I’m doing up here, how did I ever agree to this, I hate heights… Gemma stop touching me!’ We coached her through it, but still she stared at her feet, refusing to soak up the sights, saying she’d look at the view in my photos thank you very much! She survived, despite my newsreader torments of: ‘Four Kiwis were tragically killed today after a Ferris wheel ride took a turn for the worse at a Christmas market in a small town in North-West France. While the Lille city council is yet to comment on the tragedy, it is understood by One News that the victims were said to be visiting relatives for Christmas.’ In retrospect, it was very nasty of me and I am expecting a lump of coal from Santa this Xmas!
We made it back to Calais, ready to catch the Eurotunnel back only to find that it had shut down due to technical issues! Just as we were contemplating a night in the car, it kicked up again a few hours later but by this stage the back log was enormous. We had a reservation for our favorite 15th century country pub on the way home and with stomachs rumbling, I decided enough was enough. While everyone was yelling, pulling the fingers at one another and tearing hair out, I decided that this constituted an emergency. Without further ado I jumped out and asked the person directing traffic if we could skip to the front on account of having to catch a flight out of Heathrow – while it was a lie of course, we had also got there before most people on account of being super organized so I was damned if we were going to sleep in the car because some other jack arse who got their five minutes before closing snitched our spot! No-one puts Gemma and Mum in a corner!
So while we were an hour late, we made it to our beloved pub and with full bellies, back to London. Next stop – Ireland!
x
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