Yesterday was our last day in Brugge. We went to the Chocolate Museum, had a boat ride on the canal and toured the brewery. The weather was a lot better than its been with peeks of sunlight. We again ate dinner outside.
Before dinner, we decided to take a walking tour of one of the neighborhoods, even though it was 4:00 and starting to get dark. Well, our map was less than adequate, no street is more than two blocks long and neither one of us could see the few street names that were on the map. Who could tell that we were supposed to turn right at the third, not fourth, windmill. It turned into a remarkably long walk through streets lightly traveled. We eventually made our way back to our B+B, our friendship intact.
A word about our B+B. A nice place with better than adequate accommodations and a very pleasant host. The only complaint might be that the bathroom didn't have a door. Even forty years doesn't totally make up for that.
We left Brugge this morning (Sunday). Just two train rides got us here to Amsterdam, with a short stopover in Brussels to see the Grand Place and, of course, the statue of the little boy.
As the small, compact Dutch farms rolled by, I thought of the immigrants who came to the US from this part of Europe. 160 acres of homestead farm in the American midwest must have looked awfully good.
Our hotel room here in Amsterdam sets a new standard for cozy, being only slightly larger than a telephone booth. The first flight of almost straight up stairs was easy enough, the second a bit more challenging and the third flight was a heart pounder. As the desk clerk told us, the Dutch have no mountains, so they built some.
We took a walk, had dinner and climbed the mountain to our room. We're plotting our escapades for the next few days.
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