What’s ‘fabulous’ in Dutch?

On a cool Sunday morning, church bells summon the faithful in the medieval city of Bruges. It’s not an unpleasant sound, as they conjure up visions of soaring architecture, choirs and Mass. Of course, those tolling bells also speak to another religious ritual: confession.

Perhaps some penance is in order. A slow state of wakefulness reminds me that a few Belgian beers were consumed in a bar the previous evening, and it seems that some members of our traveling party are taking a bit longer to embrace the day than others. Someone next to me mutters, “You are sleeping the morning away” and “That beer you were drinking was 11% alcohol.” He announces that he’s leaving on his own morning excursion. Then he departs, leaving me to contemplate my sins.

There’s nothing like traveling with your loved ones.

We are in Belgium as part of a trip to acknowledge a great rite of passage: college graduation. We assume (and hope) that our newly minted graduate soon will be employed, which means little or no paid vacation. So we’ve arranged to spend a couple of weeks together before he’s completely out of our grasp. My husband, Steve, shouts, ‘We’re the Griswolds!” The graduate and his younger sister -- Greg and Madeline -- roll their eyes at us. They are 21 and 17, and they are very wise.

We arrive in Bruges, about 55 miles northwest of Brussels, on a Friday evening and check into our hotel in the city center. Hotel Acacia (a Best Western) is well located on Korte Zilverstraat, a five-minute walk from the Markt, or market square, that is a magnet for visitors. Our quarters are functional, with a small refrigerator and a couple of burners and a loft with two twin beds up a narrow flight of stairs.

The price includes breakfast in a sunny room with a big spread: coffee, tea and juice, plus a variety of cheeses, yogurts, cereals, eggs, bacon and ham. The folks behind the desk prove more than helpful (especially when we struggle with Internet issues), and a gray parrot in the lobby seems to speak English and French, which makes for a pleasant way to pass the time as we wait for one (or another) member of our party to finish reading, writing, showering, sleeping, dressing, shaving or swearing.

After we stow our bags, we seek -- and find -- sustenance around the corner at Restaurant Beethoven. The menu, like most menus in Bruges, lists its fare in English, French and Dutch. I proudly rely on my college French to order, reminding my children that Belgium is officially a bilingual country. The waitress responds in French, but seems confused when the three others order in English. She abandons French and speaks only English for the rest of the evening, which prompts smirks from my children.

I comfort myself with bites of tiny crustaceans intended as sort of an amuse bouche. Meanwhile, we order three scampi salads for the four of us; it turns out to be more than enough.

The restaurant is one of a series of outdoor cafes on Sint-Amandsstraat, which makes for a lively street scene on a mild evening. A mandolin player entertains from across the street. Visitors stroll by with babies, dogs and ice cream cones. We plunge into our first frites experience and conclude that mayonnaise as a dipping sauce is more than tolerable.

After dinner we make our way to the market square, which teems with visitors who are looking for a horse-and-buggy ride or are taking in the view of the colorful medieval houses that line the streets. We catch our first glimpse of the Belfort (or Belfry), the striking 13th century tower that played a major role in the 2008 film “In Bruges.” We pledge to return during the day.

The next morning we take a self-guided walking tour of the city, which is traversed by winding streets and canals but is so compact that it’s almost impossible to get lost. As I read from a guidebook, I try to explain to members of my family that Bruges is the capital of the Belgian province of West Flanders, and that, oh yeah, Dutch is the preferred language here. (The college graduate smiles and reminds me of my French-language experience of the previous night.)

The site that developed into Bruges grew over the centuries as various rulers and conquerors tried to fortify the area against pirates, Vikings and other invaders. It became a center for the cloth trade in the 12th and 13th centuries and continued to flourish throughout the Middle Ages. A series of beautiful homes, churches and civic buildings testify to the success of the cloth merchants and the city’s good fortune to have avoided the bombings of both world wars.

We stop first at St. Salvator-Kathedraal, whose oldest surviving part dates from the 12th century and houses a set of Brussels tapestries that hang on its walls. The college graduate has proclaimed tapestries to be “large scarves,” but I think I perceive modest signs of interest on his part.

Next we stroll to the Church of Our Lady (Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk), which was started in the 13th century and took 200 years to complete. Inside, the crowds cluster around “Madonna and Child,” a Michelangelo sculpture that, several references tell us, is the only one of his works to leave Italy “in his lifetime.” I hope the onlookers take in the full view: the side chapels, a lavish pulpit, soaring columns and a tall, tall spire.

Our next stop is the nearby St. John’s Hospital complex, home of the Hans Memling Museum, which houses works by the 15th century painter. Visitors can also see paintings and furniture related to the history of the medieval hospital, which was, amazingly, in use -- as a hospital -- until the 1970s. I challenge my offspring to contemplate medieval surgery without anesthesia; they challenge me to put down the guidebook.

Our tour takes us past lace shops and chocolate shops, T-shirt emporiums and cafes. We sample dark chocolate, light chocolate, marzipan and fudge. The streets are crowded, but, in general, the tourists behave well. Many of the visitors appear to be (relatively) local, or at least the dogs on their leashes give us that impression. It seems as if every 10th person has a canine companion, which proves captivating for my teenage daughter. The sight of a pair of longhaired dachshunds, their bellies mere inches from the ground, prompts a smile.

So does a little shopping. We leave the men after a late lunch and check out dozens of stores, including a handful of Zaras where “the clothes are better than in the United States.” Eventually we acquire a couple of sweaters, a shirt and snow globes and pronounce the excursion a success.

In the evening, after we fulfill our dinner needs with a light snack, Greg proposes an outing to a “little place” he’s discovered where, he explains, they serve about “a jillion” types of beer. In truth, Cafe ‘t Brugs Beertje serves more than 300 kinds, listed in a menu that approaches the thickness of “Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone.” We order a couple of them, a Rodenbach for me, a Trappist Achel for Greg. Madeline orders a Diet Coke, which is then served to me; she in turn is served the Rodenbach, which proves to be another moment of hilarity, at least for Greg and Madeline.

The pub practically bursts with patrons; the help is friendly and the beer is terrific. But there are other beers to sample after we walk Madeline to the hotel.

A place called Cambrinus also boasts a novel-sized menu printed in English, Dutch and French. (The pub is named after a “legendary king,” the so-called King of Beer, lionized in drinking songs.) At 10:30 p.m. a few diners are lingering over their meals, but most of the customers are there, seemingly, to salute the king. I have a house dark sweet; Greg, a Rodenbach. Later we switch to Gouden Carolus Cuvee van de Keizer.

The beer -- and the conversation -- is excellent. When we finally look up, the waiters are placing the bar stools on top of the tables. As we gather our belongings we realize we are the only customers left. It is 1 a.m.

Which brings me to the tolling of the bells on Sunday morning.

After Steve departs, it takes awhile -- OK, two hours -- to pry the others out of bed, get dressed and go in search of coffee, breakfast and, perhaps, Dad. We return to the town square and gaze at the Belfry, thinking he might have ended up there. We encounter basset hounds, Rottweilers, terriers, collies and mutts, but no Steve.

We sip coffee and eat enormous waffles covered with acres of whipped cream at Tom Ponce, a cafe outside the nearby Stradhuis, a medieval building that is still used as a town hall.

We step into the Heilig Bloedbasiliek (Basilica of the Holy Blood), which houses, among other things, a vial that is supposed to contain drops of water and blood from the body of Christ. It occurs to me that I have somehow bungled my child-raising efforts because even though I still insist that Greg and Madeline write thank-you letters at Christmas, they want to dispute -- loudly -- the authenticity of the vial’s contents.

A return trip to the hotel affords us another opportunity to talk to the bilingual parrot and, then, reunite with Steve. He’s in a much better mood. It seems he decided that exercise was the cure for a case of too much family (or is that uncooperative family?), so he rented a bike at the Koffieboontje Hotel and struck out boldly for a tour of the countryside. Although he became lost and discovered that the locals were unresponsive to “Ou est Bruges?” a little time away from the family proved revitalizing.

In the afternoon, Madeline and I take a boat tour of the Bruges canals. The mere act of gliding on water is soothing and the city -- with its low arched bridges and colorful building facades -- looks even more beautiful from the water.

We return to Cambrinus, this time to eat dinner. Greg and Madeline order onion soup and steak tartare; I go for the scallops and Steve enjoys half a chicken. At this moment, it’s great to be a family.

--

alice.short@latimes.com

--

BEGIN TEXT OF INFOBOX

If you go

THE BEST WAY

From LAX, Air France offers connecting service (change of planes) to Ostend, 16 miles from Bruges. Restricted round-trip fares begin at $675. The airport train station is below the terminal, with connections to Brussels North, Brussels Central and Brussels Midi stations. www.raileurope.com/index.html

TELEPHONES

To call the numbers below from the U.S., dial 011 (the international dialing code), 32 (country code for Belgium), 50 (the city code) and the local number.

WHERE TO STAY

Best Western Hotel Acacia, Korte Zilverstraat 32-5; 34-44-11, www.hotel-acacia.com. This hotel is centrally located and within walking distance of just about everything. Doubles start at $189.

Hotel Ter Brughe, Oost Gistelhof 2; 34-03-24, www.hotelterbrughe.com. This hotel, in a converted 16th century home, sits on a canal. The views are terrific. Doubles start at $121.

TO LEARN MORE

City of Bruges website, www.brugge.be/internet/en/index.htm