Beguiled by Brugge

It had been raining for days in Paris. Chilly gusts ripped the leaves from the chestnut trees, and the City of Light was covered with a leaden pallor, making me regret my choice for a fall vacation.

In between a couple of dashes to museums, I spent several days cooped up in a small Left Bank hotel, napping in my room, reading newspapers in the lobby, staring out the window at the rain pelting the cobblestones.

The hotel receptionist heard my griping and said that if she had the opportunity to get away, she’d go someplace where autumn is beautiful and dry. One such place was only three hours away by train. “Ah, Brugge,” she said in that theatrical tone the French adopt when speaking about art or food. “Belgium--Flanders, to be exact--is perfect in the fall, and you can be there in no time.”

I’d never thought much about Flanders, the coastal part of Belgium, but if I had, I suppose I’d picture it as gray, all watery lowlands and damp stone. But when the storm in Paris continued with no letup in sight, I was ready to take my chances.

Trains leave hourly from Paris’ Gare du Nord, destination Amsterdam with a stop in Brussels, where there’s a connection to Brugge. (“Bruges” is the French spelling in bilingual Belgium; the Flemish spelling is “Brugge.”)

My escape from the rain did not have a promising start. On the way to the train, the Metro line I was riding broke down and passengers were ordered off. I was swept up in a stampede of commuters lunging for the street above, where the rain made funnels of light from the street lamps. I beat a pair of office workers to a taxi. The 15-minute ride took almost three-quarters of an hour because of rain and traffic snarls. I caught the train seconds before it began to roll.

At the Belgian border, the rain stopped. Fields of sunflowers and weathered barns looked fresh in the gilt-edged morning. Beyond Brussels, the land flattened into marsh, and the clear gray sky grew wider. After we’d gone 50 miles, the spires of Brugge came into view.

On the short shuttle ride from the train station to Market Square (Grote Markt), the heart of the city, I had to agree with the Parisian hotel receptionist: Brugge in autumn is a dream. Or a movie set. My first impression was that I had stepped into a nearly perfect model of a medieval town. Three- and four-story gabled brick buildings line the narrow streets and canals that wind through the old city center. The Market Square is sort of an architectural museum, with the city hall, begun in 1248, and its belfry presiding over buildings as recent as 1921. A city of more than 100,000, Brugge wears an engaging air of tranquillity combined with elegance.

I had the good fortune to arrive on a Saturday morning, market day in Grote Markt. Colors gushed from flower stands, and the smells of bread, cheese, wine and meat reminded me I hadn’t eaten since the night before.

In a cafe fragrant with hot chocolate and coffee, I feasted on a huge waffle with whipped cream and sour cherries.

A friendly waiter told me that the best way to see Brugge is on foot, and that all the best landmarks are nearby. Nodding to the scene outside, he said the market had been a weekly event in one form or another since 985.

I thought I misunderstood, but a guidebook confirmed that the town sprouted from a Viking post in the 9th century. Since Brugge once was connected to the North Sea by a narrow inlet, its name is probably derived from the Old Norse “Bryggia,” which means “harbor”; and, yes, the market has been going on for more than 10 centuries.

What I intended to be an overnight trip as a break from bad weather turned into a four-day stay. While I learned every night from CNN that Paris was still being pummeled by rain, Brugge was bathed in the golden glow of early autumn in the northern latitudes.

The air of relaxation in Brugge borders on somnolence. What else would you expect in a town whose best-known products are lace and chocolates?

The ancient quarter is bursting with chocolatiers and lace makers, and it doesn’t take long to learn more about Belgian lace than you care to know. I stopped at a lace shop to take pictures, and the proprietor gave me a Cliff’s Notes version of the history of her wares. She was especially proud of something called Duchesse lace, which, as far as I could understand, is used for doilies.

Chocolate is a more enjoyable passion, and Belgian chocolate is often mentioned as the world’s best. In Brugge, chocolate shops seem as common as bakeries. You feel a sugar high coming on just by walking in.

Even without chocolate and lace, the city would be captivating, with its clean, efficient and orderly northern European manner. The medieval heart of Brugge is dominated by the Halle, a 13th century building that served as a warehouse when the city was a main player in the powerful Hanseatic League, the medieval trade cartel.

The Halle is topped by a 270-foot belfry tower, which is open to the public. It’s about 400 steps to the top, but the payoff is a wonderful bird’s-eye view of the egg-shaped city, with its canals sparkling in the autumn sun, the yellow and red squares that will turn green in the spring marking convents, parks and churchyards.

Beyond the city lies the Plain of Flanders and the Zwyn, a saltwater inlet that once connected Brugge to the sea, about 10 miles away. Today, farms sprawl on the reclaimed land.

Directly below the belfry, the Government Palace faces a row of medieval guild houses across Market Square, where horse-drawn carriages await footsore visitors.

In the next block is the square called the Burg and its Gothic jewel, the Stadhuis, or City Hall, built in 1376. Next door stands the Basilica of the Holy Blood (Heilig Bloed Basiliek), a small structure consisting of two chapels. One houses a vial believed to contain a drop of the blood of Jesus, which supposedly was brought from the Holy Land in 1149 by a nobleman who fought in the Second Crusade. On the Feast of the Ascension every May, the vial is paraded through the city. Brugeois dressed in medieval finery line the route. It sounds like a composite of Passion Play, the Rose Parade, High Mass and Mardi Gras.

One evening, I took in some local color in a tavern named for the alley it’s in, DeGarre (off Breidelstraat, between Markt and Burg). It was inviting--warm, dark, cozy (and smoky), with classical music playing in the background. Locals hunkered over low tables holding onto their steins and chattering away in Flemish, a language related to the Dutch of Belgium’s neighbor, the Netherlands. The indirect, hazy light made the room look like something Rubens would have painted. Locals proudly point out that the Dutch master once lived here.

Belgium is a serious beer-drinking country, downing about 30 gallons per person a year, about twice what the Germans drink. And while the mainstay of DeGarre was a local brew called Straffe Hendrik, the bar list included such specialty beers as Frambozen, brewed with raspberries; Dentergems, with coriander and orange peel; Kriek, a cherry-based beer; and Trappist, brewed by monks.

I stuck with coffee.

The next morning I set off from my hotel to walk the length of the Groene Rei (Green Quay), along a narrow canal that bisects the old city. The walk took me past the Gruuthuse, now a museum but originally a palace built on a fortune made in selling herbs--gruut--used in beer-making. Next door is the Church of Our Lady, a Gothic structure housing a stunning marble Madonna and Child by Michelangelo. Purchased from the master by two wealthy local merchants, it has been in the church since 1514, except for a brief period during World War II when the occupying Nazis took it to Germany.

Belgium was relatively unscathed by the war; even its industries were spared bombing, enabling the country to make an economic comeback sooner than others in Europe. But it was only a generation ago that the government realized what a moneymaker it had in Brugge as a tourist magnet, and strict laws have kept the medieval city postcard-perfect.

I crossed the canal and stopped to watch tour boats drifting by St. John’s Hospital, a huge complex built in 1178. (Several outfits run boat tours from the canal behind the Burg; half-hour tours run all day except in winter for about $4.) My attention was diverted by the antics of some boys nearby teasing the canal’s swans.

A few blocks away I found a bench in the Walplaats, a tiny square where buggy drivers stop to water their horses. It was nippy, clear and peaceful.

A man sat at the end of the bench that I occupied and soon began to practice his English with me. He told me that he fought alongside U.S. troops during the Battle of the Bulge in World War II. He was from Antwerp, he said, but married a girl from Brugge after the war and never looked back.

“I can see why,” I said.

Brugge grows on you, a town where photogenic old houses, scalloped gables, whimsical spires and sparkling canals wear well. It’s not until you leave that you remember your first impression: It does resemble Fantasyland.

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GUIDEBOOK

No Waffling on This Belgian Treat

Getting there: A change of planes is required on all flights between Los Angeles and Brussels, Belgium’s capital. Restricted round-trip fares start at $731 on American, United, Continental, Delta, British, Swissair, Lufthansa, Air France and Aer Lingus.

Where to stay: The Brugge tourist office found me a modest room ($70) in the Duc de Bourgogne hotel, but I wouldn’t recommend it. I was too lazy to move, but I did look in on some of the highly recommended hotels.

De Orangerie, Kartuizerinnenstraat 10, telephone 011-32-50-34-1649, fax 011-32-50-33-3016, Internet https://www.ila-chateau.com/orangeri. An 18th century mansion with 19 rooms overlooking a canal for $139 to $180 per night, double occupancy. Closed in January.

Die Swaene, Steenhouwersdijk 1, tel. 011-32-50-34-2798, fax 011-32-50-33-6674, Internet https://www.bbchannel.com.

Canal views in historic section of town; $120 to $150 double with breakfast.

Ter Duinen, Langerei 52, tel: 011-32-50-33-0437, fax 011-32-50-34-4216, Internet https://www.terduinenhotel.be. Fronts a canal, and parking is free. Included in the price is a discount card for 10 museums; $80 to $120 double.

Where to eat: Kasteel Minnewater, Minnewaterpark 4, local tel. 33-4254. I feasted on prawns one night, came back the next for sole. Pretty rooms in an old castle on the lake. Dinner entrees from $18 to $40.

De Visscherie, Vismarkt 8, tel. 33-0212. “The Fishery” at the fish market rates high with locals. Entrees from $25 to $55.

For more information: Belgian Tourist Office, 780 3rd Ave., Suite 1501, New York, NY 10017; tel. (212) 758-8130, fax (212) 355-7675, Internet https://www.visitbelgium.com.