“Go to Bruges.” I can still hear him saying it. “Promise me you will go to Bruges.” He called it an impossibly romantic place, and painted a picture that I can still see when I recall it.

How do you say no to that? Roger was my travel guru and if he said, go, I was going. So it was that on my second trip to Europe I stepped way outside my comfort zone and went to a place I hadn’t heard of a cant two years earlier.

Bruges Lace

My first task was learning about the place. This lovely little gem  was a hub of commerce in the 15th and 16th centuries. Known for tapestries, textiles and the “Flemish School” of oil painting.

Then there is the lace. Bruges lace was – and is – considered some of the finest in the world. There is even a museum dedicated to lace that is well worth a visit.

When I think of lace, I am generally picturing a strip of lace that is an accent. In Bruges I saw lace collars and shawls and christening dress, and by that I mean entire garments made of lace. The workmanship is amazing, considering that these pieces were made by hand using hundreds of bobbins. They are stunning.

Michelangelo is Here

During his lifetime, only one piece of Michelangelo’s work ever left Italy. It went to Bruges. This alone speaks volumes about the economic and cultural significance of the town.

The piece is known as the Madonna of Bruges and it resides in Our Lady of Bruges. It is a stunning piece, and when I visited, there was a significant line to see it. When you go, spend a little time in the church. There are many other beautiful pieces and interesting relics in this pretty church.

Sometimes the weight of history, as my father referred to it, hits me when I travel. Standing in front of a Michelangelo in this pretty church was one of those. The thought of the good burghers of Bruges commissioning this sculpture, the time and trouble it must have taken to get it from Italy to this northern city, and the fanfare that must have met its arrival seemed to knock me on the head.

This was a big deal. The wealth and importance it leant the city was immense. The sculpture didn’t put Bruges on the map, but it certainly secured the pin on that map. This wasn’t just a Michelangelo I was admiring, I was looking at a powerful symbol of all that Bruges was and still is.

Canals and Swans

So yes, there are some amazing things to see in this city, and yet for me the real treasure was wandering along the canals. Bruges was a seaport – now cut off from the sea – and like most of the region it is at sea level. As a result there are canals.

The canals of Bruges tend to be narrow, winding routes crossed by pretty bridges and lined with stone buildings or abundant gardens. Swans gracefully glide along the canals with that attitude that swans have. Swans and cats seem to believe this is their world and the rest of us are just visiting.

These beautiful and somewhat cantankerous birds are beloved, and the City charter mandates that at least 100 live in the city. I had a wonderful moment standing near a bridge on a quiet road. A group of 4 or 5 swans paddled silently up, paused a moment to eye the woman gawking at them, and deciding I was worthy, swam off just as silently.

I nearly laughed out loud. Without a doubt, it was one of the most thorough judgements I have ever undergone. After that moment, when I ran into another bird committee, I made sure to pay my respects. Talking to birds is something I do, I just realized; why should the Swans of Bruges be any different.

Chocolate!

Let’s get to the really important stuff. Bruges may have lace and world-famous sculptures and swans; but let’s face it; chocolate is the real treasure in this town!

Let’s start with the chocolate. I heard tales about the chocolate from Roger and another traveling friend. On the main street I passed a half dozen shops that purported to carry the best chocolate in Bruges.

I, however, was on a mission. My intelligence gathering pointed to one place – Chocolatier Dumon. In a squat brick building on the Eiermarkt I found some of the best chocolate I have ever tasted. This is life changing chocolate.

There are molded chocolates – a full chess set made of both dark and white chocolates was on display – as well as mind melting truffles. One could happily overdose on chocolate here. I know I nearly did! To this day I tell people about Bruges, mention Dumon and slyly hope that they might bring me a little bag of chocolate. After all, I brought chocolate back to my informants!

Bruges gets Personal

Roger made me promise to go. He died a few weeks later. That year I lost several people, I still refer to it as the year everyone died. My nephew, Roger, my grandmother, my cat, my mentor Molly (who kept me from walking away from finishing my Communications degree on several occasions) and two other friends died in a span from February to September.

It was my last visit to Roger, a formerly robust man who had been a river guide, a tech entrepreneur, and a locksmith was a shadow of his former self. Melanoma was sapping his life before my eyes. It was hard at first, but Roger was still there. The adventurer I had come to admire was still in his eyes.

“Go to Bruges.” he told me. Not next year, not someday, go as soon as you possibly can; that was his advice. “Look at me KK. You don’t know if next year is going to come.” Those words haunted me. They still haunt me.

On my last full day in Bruges I stepped into the Cathedral. I am not a Catholic in the true sense of the word, but I have always found a sense of comfort there; it is the rituals, I suspect. Still – I stepped out of the heat of that August day into the cool and dark interior.

It was nearly empty and I was glad for it. I went to the votive candle rack and dutifully plunked two euro coins in the box. There were two unlit candles – just two – on the rack, and they sat next to each other. I lit them both.

The first was for Roger, who brought me to this impossibly romantic place. It was a prayer of thanks for pushing me to follow my dreams and travel. The other was for my nephew, who wanted so desperately to see the world, but never got the chance.

I was given this opportunity to see the world, pushed into it by a friend who had seen his own fair share of it. I am forever thankful for his words. Go to Bruges. Wherever your Bruges may be.