Some things about the centuries-old Belgian city of Bruges make it distinctive. At first it is hard to work at what – because they are what is absent, not what is present.
First, you cannot see the tiniest bit of litter. It – down to the least cigarette butt – is swooped up quickly by discreet litter gatherers. It is a self-reinforcing task because it makes everyone conscious of cleanliness. It would be a graver sin to ignore an inadvertent dropping of a skerrick of paper in Bruges than in Sydney or even in tidy town Canberra.
I noticed the second thing quite a bit later, after taking a few photographs. In Bruges you do not see any power or phone lines, anywhere, ever. This is extraordinary given that electricity and the telephone came centuries after most of the buildings had been completed. But rather than detract from the elegance of a city with so many residential buildings dating back to the mid-17th century by just stringing up the power lines to deliver electricity in the cheapest way to the greatest number, someone in this aesthetically conscious city held up a hand and said: “No”, or perhaps “Non”. “The spires, shop fronts and civic buildings will not be despoiled by the ugly black lines of the 20th century.”
It must have cost a fortune, but it has been worth it in the long term. The city still has the benefits of street lights, power and telephones in the home and high speed internet connections without defacing its medieval charm.
Within the old part of city, advertising billboards are banned and a building regime protects today what had in the past only been preserved by the accidents of history.
Instead of scurrying straight to the wineries of France and Germany, the short detour through Belgium, particularly Bruges, is worthwhile.
For 200 years from the 13th century it was the centre of the cloth trade. The riches from the trade were converted to excellent civic and ecclesiastic buildings. Also, the rich cloth merchants built splendid residences. Perhaps in their day they were regarded as nouveau rich horrors. Now they are priceless exemplars of good taste.
By the end of the 15th century the cloth trade ended and moved elsewhere as the River Zwin silted up – climate is a powerful force in human history. So Bruges escaped the urban poisoning of industrialisation. It also escaped the ravages of World War I and II. The fighting in World War I bogged down in northern France where (in contrast to Bruges) many towns had hardly any pre-1914 buildings left. And in World War II, the lightning was so quick it went past Bruges without damage. The French took out a cathedral in 1788, but that’s about it. Waterloo – where the French Emperor Napoleon Bonaparte was defeated by the Dutch and English under the Duke of Wellington in 1815 – is a short drive away (and also worth a visit), but far enough away not to have affected Bruges.
Bruges has a system of canals lined with buildings going back to the 12th century. The canals use water from the River Dijver which forms an arc around the old part of the city. The skyline is dominated by the 13th to 15th century Belfort with its octagonal tower. It contains the city’s mediaeval charter of rights. I’m sure the tower had a slight lean on it – wide-angle lens aside — when viewed from the 13th century market square which had a madly contrasting fair of mechanical rides was set up the weekend I was there. An ornate Stadhuis (Town Hall) built between 1376 and 1420 is one of Belgium’s oldest. And the brick spire of the Church of Our Lady took nearly 300 years to build. Inside is a Michelangelo Madonna and Child.
Amid this all this are the most exquisite shop-window displays of the three things Belgium is most famous (Hercule Piorot aside) – chocolate, lace and beer – and any number of winding alleys and cafes spilling on to the cobblestones.
Cars are allowed, but the 30kmh speed limit is enforced mercilessly. Bruges, too, has its speed-limit controversy. Many houses had a compactly expressive 30 kmh sign in their front window, but instead of the usual red circle around the black number 30, it had a red heart shape, signifying approval of the low limit.
The windows are right on the street, revealing why the Belgians (and other Europeans) like lace – it lets what little sun there is in while keeping the prying eyes of tourists out.
And Bruges has a fair few tourists. That’s one of the difficulties of European travel – so many tourists have this habit of going to places worth visiting. So avoid the European summer.