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Bugger Brugge
Oct. 22nd, 2009 10:29 pmRodenbach had it about right, 'Bruges-la-Morte'. Open-air museum, pastiche upon preservation. Streets empty of life, streets full of weekend-breaking couples. Here and there visitors willingly underwent the humiliation of being borne publicly through the town in horse-drawn carriages.
Fled, took the train a quarter of an hour to the coast. From Oostende I expected an abandoned resort. Instead: a funfair spread across the squares, splendidly garish, vulgar, the colours and the noise blaring. On the rides, people shrieking. Brats squealing: "Nee! Neeeyugh!" Blokes winning their girlfriends ugly soft toys. The main street packed with, apparently, the population of West-Vlaanderen in promenade. Living, thriving. Brilliant.
Fled, took the train a quarter of an hour to the coast. From Oostende I expected an abandoned resort. Instead: a funfair spread across the squares, splendidly garish, vulgar, the colours and the noise blaring. On the rides, people shrieking. Brats squealing: "Nee! Neeeyugh!" Blokes winning their girlfriends ugly soft toys. The main street packed with, apparently, the population of West-Vlaanderen in promenade. Living, thriving. Brilliant.
