10. Bruges

This cruise has been a series of cancellations, the most disappointing of which was the rerouting of our intended trip up the west coast of Norway, which I am still whingeing about. But today, we are meant to be in Brussels. Well, that was the original plan, except that I think we must have been the only passengers that selected the day trip to Brussels, so it was cancelled. And if it were not for one of the people on the tour desk, it is unlikely we would be in Bruges today. We had opted for transportation for the long day in Bruges, knowing how quickly time passes when we are in a foreign city.

Whingeing aside, we load ourselves onto the bus and enjoy the early and somewhat foggy short thirty-minute drive into the city of Bruges from the cruise terminal at Zeebrugge. A yellow sun tries to break out of the layers of wispy fog together with the leafless tree silhouettes makes the morning ride eerily beautiful, although the photos don't show it.

Our bus pulls up in a large carpark designed to hold many buses despite ours being the only one here. Armed with maps, we follow the guide across the asphalt to a curved red metal bridge that connects the old town with the car park. We walk through some deciduous woods; the trees are in a vale, protected from the worst of the wind, so their leaves are clinging on for as long as possible. There is a yellow carpet of leaves beneath our feet softening our footfalls and sticking to the undersides of our shoes. At the end of the path is a dramatic windowless tower that one would find inside a Grimm Brothers fairy tale. I half expect Rapunzel to let down a rope of plaited golden hair from its turret, but I do not have time to waste on fairy tales just yet. Minnewater Lake is a lurid green colour from a late summer bloom of blue-green algae. The ducks do not seem to mind.

We walk past an old convent and other seemingly ancient buildings in our quest to reach the Market Square, but using a church as a landmark becomes confusing when we realise that we have been using two church spires and we are now utterly confused. A few steps in another direction brings us to the canals and in this early morning, before there is any activity on the water or in the streets, there is a sense of abandonment, a sense of being one of only few people in the town.

The fog has completely lifted and the cloudless sky is a bright azure colour. Buildings that are older than any city in Australia stand tall along the canal and are beautifully reflected in the still dark water.

Nothing opens until 10 o'clock, so we have this wonderful town to ourselves and we take advantage of it as we explore the empty streets. We eventually find a tiny coffee counter inside a bicycle repair shop and we enjoy the ambience of the city from its front door.

We return to a booth to buy tickets for a boat ride along the canals. Our driver cum tour guide is excellent as he points out places of interest in a fun way in three languages. We enjoy our ride through the canals and I am secretly pleased that I had the opportunity to take photos whilst the water was still. Such lovely reflections will not be possible.

As we walk through the narrow streets to Market Square, we are surprised to see crowds of people surging along the cobbled footpaths in our direction.

We decide to take a horse and buggy through the streets and our Scottish driver provides an animated commentary as we clop along the streets. He doesn't accept a credit card, so we have to quickly find an ATM, so we can pay him.

Later, we take a leisurely walk back to the bus stop. Unlike yesterday, we have plenty of time and we arrive at the bus stop well ahead of the meeting time. Just as well as right on the dot of three o'clock, the bus starts its engine and takes off, leaving one couple behind.

It is the end of the cruise. It is our last night on board the Regatta and we must pack our suitcases ahead of our early morning ride back to London.