Ghent

When we were planning our vacation and deciding where to travel within Belgium, my dad threw Ghent into the mix. I don't know why Ghent prevailed over Antwerp, but, boy, am I glad it did. I loved Ghent! I think it was my favorite part of Belgium, although everything in Belgium was great.

Ghent, which is halfway between Bruges and Brussels, is just a short train ride from either city. It has a lot of the old beauty and charm of Bruges, but instead of a museum feel, it has a college town vibe. I stopped taking photos and am still waiting to get some from my parents' cameras, but still had some good ones to share here.  

This is the airbnb houseboat where we stayed, which was rather large on the inside, musty, quiet, and spider-laden.

The first day we were there, we looked for a taproom that Dan had read about in the guidebook. It no longer exists, so we walked up the street to this neighborhood where we found the most lovely vegetarian restaurant. In a meat-and-potatoes country, I felt quite a strong kinship with the nice man who made my delicious meal, served with a nicely brewed pot of puerh tea. I lingered. I did not want to leave this haven. 

While my dinner that night, also near this neighborhood, consisted of very few vegetables, the french fries I had were probably the best fries I've ever had. (All of our meals in Ghent were actually really tasty and well done. At dinner the next night, Dan was only willing to share one small potato wedge with my parents and me, insisting that we cut it into thirds.)

The next day was our only full day in Ghent. We walked to the historic area, home to some huge old churches and a belltower and old market squares. After strategizing in a bar with an insane amount of varieties of beer, we went on a self-guided tour of an old castle, located at the confluence of two rivers. You know me and confluences. Add the bonus feature of some old weaponry and a small torture museum within the castle, and it should be pretty clear how great this afternoon was.

After the castle, we split off from my parents. Dan and I checked out this place called Velootje that was essentially described as an interesting bike museum where you can have a beer. I'm kind of glad that I didn't see this description of it until tonight, when looking up the name of the place. Terrifying and amazing is right. 

We walked down a little non-descript cobblestone alleyway-like street and found some people sitting at a table with an umbrella. There was a bike sticker on a drainpipe and that's essentially what clued us into the fact that we found the right place. The owner barely greeted us (but his English was a little rough), and asked if we wanted a beer. He grabbed a big bottle of something with high alcohol content, and handed us two glasses, while a cat walked on the table. A young couple with a child, their friend, and an older women were there. After we sat their awkwardly for about 10 minutes, the two younger guys kindly started talking with us. They confirmed that they also think Velootje is really weird, but that they like it, so they go there. 

After drinking our beer, we asked to see "the museum." It's a garage full of an odd assortment of dusty old bikes. We then paid the guy, said our goodbyes, and tried to process it all on the way home.

It was so weird and awesome.

The next day, we headed to Brussels, after I snapped these two photos of the bike parking area at the train station. Ghent had some really good bike infrastructure, and a ton of kids riding bikes for transportation.