Bruges, Belgium

There are two kinds of adventures. The first kind is long and drawn out; you settle in and explore nooks and crannies, repeat trips to your favorite cafe or bakery, and  focus most of your energy on simple wandering. You dive in so deep that you nearly trick yourself into thinking you know the place. Moreover, you think you know it well. The second kind if more of a whirlwind. It is hurried jaunts and frenetic sight-seeing, quick meals and breathless train hopping.

Our third week abroad was of the second variety. We left Paris on a Monday morning, and by the time we arrived in the UK on Friday, we had wended our way through most of Belgium and the Netherlands (Primarily, Bruges and Amsterdam).

And Bruges? Oh, Bruges...

Bruges was lovely. If Paris was an elegant woman of fashion, Bruges was her county cousin—pretty and serene. (And while we are anthropomorphizing cities, Amsterdam was their punk cousin—all frat parties and wild air).

In Bruges, we walked the cobbled streets and shopped; wandered alleys and sat by the canals; toured a brewery and sampled waffles and chocolate. We ate plenty of mussels, fresh from the sea, and sampled wheat beer. If you are ever in Benelux region of Europe, you really must visit Brugge. It is entirely lovely.

More photos of our time in Europe, here.