I awoke with my alarm at 8:15 from a recurring dream in which I still occasionally drive cab on weekend nights for extra money. As with my other recurring dream in which the final is approaching for a class I haven’t attended or studied for and if I don’t pass I won’t graduate from college, I am always glad it was just a dream. Minds are weird.
I got dressed and headed back to Glow, feeling much better than when I was there two days ago. I ate avocado toast and assembled and uploaded my first Instagram post of the trip. I created a Facebook album when I left and have yet to put anything there. Sigh for my self-imposed pressure to share.
Back at the listing, I cleaned up, got dressed, and packed up. That left train business.
I found a site while researching at home that I realized is the only one I’ll need for train travel; it is so thorough that not much advance planning is necessary. The site’s author worked in the train industry for years and now runs the site full-time, giving away all his knowledge and experience for free.
I learned there that to buy a ticket from Luxembourg to Bruges, or Brugge as it’s written locally, would be €43.80 straight through while a ticket from Luxembourg to Arlon, the first stop in Belgium, is €10.80 and Arlon to Brugge is €21.00. The same trip with two tickets cost €12.00 less than one ticket because the cost per mile of the international Belgian tariff is higher than the domestic one. Brilliant. I wanted to donate the amount I saved to the Man in Seat 61, but his About page directs donations to UNICEF, so I did that. Awesome.
I waited until just before going to the train station to buy tickets because I didn’t trust myself to pick a time in advance and manage to get myself there. Or maybe I just really don’t want to *have* to be somewhere at any particular time on this trip. I did not recharge on my Recharge; this is the anti-Recharge trip.
I figured last night when I looked up the schedule that the 11:52 is the one I’d be on. Sure enough, it was 11:00 as my bags were ready to go, save for my laptop with which I was buying my last-minute train tickets. This is checkout time, but Kasia had said not to worry about it too much. I used the Seat 61 link to access B-Europe, the Belgium railway, and bought the two separate tickets, loading their digital versions into the companion app.
I activated one last Luxembourg city bus pass and made my way to the front door. Kasia was at work and Jerome was working from home. He came out of his office to see me out, which was nice. He admitted that he enjoys Airbnb but he is along for the ride while Kasia is the true host, the vibe I’d gotten during my stay. I wanted to say goodbye to Zigi, and Jerome brought him out from the office for me. And so it was I ended up taking a photo of them and hugging Jerome goodbye, as I wish I’d done with Kasia. Ah, well.
I arrived at the station with 15 minutes to search the board for my platform and make my way to the train. A conductor pushed a button to open the doors and board and I followed him; this was good as I would have stood outside wondering why I couldn’t board yet and when the doors were going to open.
It was only a half hour to Arlon. I was glad to have booked with a 13-minute connection window as we were 5 minutes late. I rushed a bit down the length of the platform. There was no elevator so I carried my bag down in to the terminal. I found the board displaying my new platform and hurried up the stairs with my 37-pound roller bag, which is never a good idea. I can rush without a bag, and I can carry a 37-pound bag at a leisurely pace, but rushing with a heavy object is inviting disaster for my back.
A train was waiting there, but there was no overhead sign on the platform nor on the train itself indicating which it was. I asked a conductor who confirmed this was the right train.
It was 2h40min to my next train change in Brussels. I’m not shy when I need to stretch; I got on the floor and did some emergency press-ups as I was feeling just a little tweaked. That seemed to help, and I took a seat, alternately taking in the scenery and doing some journal writing. I took the opportunity between stops to stand for a while rather than sit for the whole journey.
We arrived on time at 15:17 at Bruxelles-Nord station, where I had 23 minutes to transfer to the train to Brugge. The elevator from the platform down to the terminal was out of order.. sigh. I carefully carried my bag down and found a large departures board where I was early enough that my train was not displaying yet as the next 20 minutes are shown.
In a few minutes, the 15:40 departures began rolling onto the screen. There were three before the later ones appeared, and none were going to Brugge.
In a mild panic, I searched for an information desk and found none. Walking back to the board, I noticed that each platform’s entry had a sign with the next departure and all its stops.
The three 15:40 departures were from platforms 5, 8, and 10. I did not see Brugge in the stops listed at platforms 5 and 10. Platform 8’s next train departed at 12:31, so I needed to wait for the sign to roll over to display the 12:40. There was Brugge! (On the way to final destination Blankenberge, which displayed on the main board.)
Now it was 12:33, leaving me 7 minutes to get food and no time to use the bathroom. I ran to the food hall and grabbed a wrapped caprese from a case and made it onto the train. It was 1h10min to Brugge and the train was crowded enough that I didn’t feel comfortable leaving my bags to use the loo. I used my seatbound moment to upload another Instagram post.
There was a line to exit the train at Brugge. Rather than herd down to the terminal, I checked my phone for the next departing buses that would get me from the station to my Airbnb listing.
With the platform cleared, I rode the escalator down and followed signs to the bathrooms. I offered a €5 bill to pay the €0,50 fee, receiving change I would need for the bus as I didn’t yet know which app to download to purchase digital bus tickets (one of those details I would previously have planned and which I was now winging on the fly).
The crowded chaos continued in the bus zones. Brugge Station “perron 1” (platform) was the stop for many buses, and I hoped the people there weren’t all going the same way I was. While waiting, I asked someone standing next to me if (he speaks English and) he knows which app I should download to buy tickets. He showed me on his phone.. score. Data wasn’t good enough to download it, so I’d be using my coins to start with but planned to buy passes on the app for future trips.
I could take either the 4 or 14 to my Airbnb listing; when the 14 arrived, so many people got on that just as I reached the door, the driver shut it and took off. Fingers crossed for the 4, then. I boarded that one early amongst the waiting crowd and checked with the driver that I was to pay €1,80, which I’d seen somewhere. I had a €1 and two €0,50 coins ready, but he said it was €3,00. As I reached into my pocket for more change, one of the teen boys boarding behind me made a noise that was the equivalent of an eyeroll, and I shot some sideeye right back in their general direction.
A carnival, what I would later learn is Mayfair, was just getting started a short way from the station; the cobblestone streets were narrow and crawling with people and I could hardly believe the bus was navigating its route around a carousel. Thankfully, it was short ride as Brugge is not very big.
I got off at Jan van Eyckplein and walked about 5 minutes to Le Flaneur, my Airbnb home for the next 5 nights and an actual bed & breakfast. I was greeted by Erika and a 3-year-old chocolate brown pug named Flanelle, whom I loved immediately (and she has obviously never met a stranger).
Erika showed me to the kitchen and opened a map to give me the lay of the land. Her partner Dietrich took my heavy bag upstairs to my room and then joined us, chiming in with some recommendations around town. They showed me up to and around my room and eventually left me to get settled, joking that they talk a lot. I was, in fact, glad I had not just arrived on a plane as I wouldn’t have taken in a single thing they said.
I dropped my bags and took in the splendor of my high-ceilinged quarters: the chandelier that Dietrich had salvaged from someone’s trash, a large bathtub with handheld shower, and the toilet inside its own mini-room within the room.
I was about to head out for dinner when Dietrich gave me a mini-tour of their incredible house, which he is constantly working on, including some of the other unoccupied rooms that he just recently remodeled. He is a collector, and the house is filled with memorabilia, some vintage, some just bizarre. It’s crazy cool.
My first stop was Cambrinus, the bar with 400 beers; alas, it was full.
When I was still in Luxembourg, Dietrich or Erika had messaged me via Airbnb to find out my arrival time and to give me a heads-up that dinner reservations would be a good idea. I just couldn’t manage that at the time, not knowing when I would be eating, or how far anything was, or what the options would be. I just figured I would find something when the time came. As I checked in, they said they’d given me that warning because they thought I was traveling as a couple; they thought solo should be fine. However, it is a Friday night and during Mayfair.
My second attempt was De Plaats, a vegetarian restaurant around the corner from Cambrinus that my hosts had recommended. Also full. Well, shit.
Third time’s a charm: in between Cambrinus and De Plaats is La Cantina, a cozy Italian joint. I ordered the house red and penne arrabiata and reviewed my stay with Kasia while I ate. The bill was only €14,00 and when I tried to pay with my card, the server said they have a €25,00 minimum or else they pass on the €4,00 processing fee to the customer. I save cash for when I have to use it, so I did that, asking her if this is common around town, which she confirmed, so I stopped at an ATM for more cash on the way home.
It was 21:00 as I set about some laptop business.
I used the De Lijn app to buy 10 bus passes for €15,00; better than €3,00 per bus ride if I use them all, and if I don’t it’s still worth the convenience of activating a digital pass instead of paying cash each trip.
I did some research on a day trip to Ghent tomorrow, including whether I could pull off arriving there by 13:00 for a walking tour Airbnb Experience. I went for it, figuring I would just make it work, time- and transportation-wise.
I did some journaling and somehow it was almost 1:00 as I finally got in the tub to wash my hair. I’d kinda been putting it off, not really sure how to use the handheld without spraying the entire room with water (no curtain) or position myself comfortably while I got clean. It was awkward but I managed it and went to sleep at 1:30.
Zoe Means Life 