Love and devotion

As I'm typing these words, it dawns on me that only a mere week ago we were at the start of our latest little adventure.

We'd booked three nights at our favourite B&B, in a quiet backwater about half an hour from Bruges, to celebrate our Silver Wedding Anniversary, which was on the 4th of February. In the empty void between Christmas and the first signs of Spring, we were actually in desperate need of a break, so it couldn't have come at a better time.

I had been feeling more than just a little out of sorts during the week leading up to our trip, and by the time the weekend rolled along I was tired to the bone and craving sleep. Lots of it. The eternal grey weather didn't help to improve my energy levels either, so that packing was a bit of a chore. It kept raining on and off on Saturday, and as the weather forecast for the next couple of days seemed to be changing every time we looked, deciding which clothes to pack was even more of a nightmare than usual.

But we got it done eventually and then, finally, it was Sunday. We stowed our bags into the boot of our car and set off by late morning, by which time, thankfully, the lashings of rains we'd woken up to had almost dwindled to nothing. 

I'd left the decision on what to wear for the journey and our first day until the last moment, then opted for this Finnish made black floral frock, which has been in my wardrobe forever. On Instagram, Mim aptly called its print 1970s does 1930s perfection, and I couldn't agree more.

The orange, half-elasticated belt is another wardrobe staple and as the elastic at the back doesn't dig into my waist, it's ideal for travelling by car. My black and white beaded necklace was a fairly recent charity shop find.

Our journey only took us just over an hour, so it was about 1 pm when we arrived at our B&B, Het Soetewater, where we were welcomed by our host, Veronique, with coffee, cakes and an orchid plant as a present for our wedding anniversary. How nice is that?

We made ourselves at home in our usual room, where I took this selfie, which for once didn't look too bad. Here you can see the orange cardie I wore on top, and the brooch, with its duo of flowers, I pinned to it.

The B&B's breakfast and sitting room turned out to be the perfect background for outfit photos.

This early in the season, we were the only guests, but nevertheless there were fresh flowers for us to enjoy, and Veronique always made sure there were some cakes in case one got peckish.

She also makes her own jam, pots of which are for sale. I'm not much of a jam person myself, but Jos is and he took no less than six pots home!

It was about 3 pm by now, and the weather had improved considerably, even treating us to the odd ray of sunshine. 

At this point, wild horses couldn't have kept us away from Bruges, so we set our satnav for the biggest of the city centre car parks, 't Zand, situated under the eponymous square, the largest in Bruges. We emerged near the impressive contemporary concert hall, which was completed in 2002, when Bruges was the European Capital of Culture.

We strolled into the direction of the beguinage and the famous Minnewater (Lake of Love), passing a shop selling chocolate kisses and a little courtyard of whitewashed cottages, where dried Hydrangea stalks were swaying in a gentle breeze.

Signs of devotion are everywhere, becoming even more plentiful upon nearing the beguinage. 

The shrine to Our Lady of Banneux, virgin of the poor (bottom right), is hidden away in a little chapel in the front garden of one of the beguinage's cottages. 

But before we enter the beguinage itself, let's take a walk along the Minnewater (or Lake of Love), which lies at the heart of the tranquil Minnewater park. 

Legend has it that a young and pretty girl called Minna fell in love with Stromberg, a warrior of a neighbouring tribe. As Minna's father was, rather predictably, against the liaison, Minna ran away into the forest, where she was finally found by Stromberg, but sadly she died in his arms from exhaustion. 

The lake was named in her honour and the bridge by the lake has been considered the bridge of love ever since. 

The Minnewater is also home to the swans which are the city's emblem.

There are two entry gates to the beguinage, and we took the Koepoort (or Cow Gate), which is right next to the Minnewater. 

As you step through the gate into the beguinage courtyard, you suddenly find yourself into another world, reigned by peace and quiet. There are signs asking for silence at regular intervals, but even so, your voice automatically drops to a whisper, the quietness only shattered by your footsteps on the cobbled paths and the clicking of your camera's shutter, which suddenly sounds quite conspicuous.

In Spring, the central green is a mass of daffodils, which is quite a magical sight. Dotted among the grass, one or two clumps of forward little daffs seemed to be confusing the mild Winter weather with Spring, and giving us a little taster of what's to come. 

Leaving the beguinage through the second gate (the top centre photo in the above collage was taken through the gate's grille), we walked towards the town centre, passing the Halve Maan (Half Moon) brewery, which we'd planned to visit in the next days in case of rain, but which remains on our to-do list as I write. 

In spite of this being a Sunday, there were hardly any crowds, so that we were able to photograph Bruges' most iconic and picturesque corners without having to work around the almost constant stream of tourists which seem to throng the city at other times of year.

Snapping the charming little medieval deception of the Bonifacius bridge, which actually dates from 1910, without the hordes of selfie-stick-wielding people, was nothing short of a miracle. 

And whatever the season, the ravishing sight of the water gently lapping the back of  the magnificent St. Jan's Hospitaal (top left) and the old facades lining the Dijver canal with the belfy towering above them, never fails to tug at the heartstrings.

As daylight slowly made way to dusk, we took a deep breath and walked to the Markt (Market Square). But we needn't have worried as even in this epicentre of tourist-land the crowds seemed to be rather thin on the ground, with a long line of empty horse-drawn carriages waiting for weary travellers.

Hunger and thirst got the better of us, but we were dismayed to find that our favourite restaurant lining the square was closed for refurbishment. But never mind, a look at next door's menu enticed us inside, as we both had a craving for witloof in de oven: Belgian endives rolled in ham, covered in a cheesy bechamel sauce and cooked in the oven, usually served with mashed potatoes.

Darkness had descended while we were eating, so we were greeted by a magically lighted square when we emerged from the restaurant. 

We lingered for a while, taking it all in, then walked along the city's main shopping street, mingling among the multilingual groups of people strolling as if on a mild evening in Spring. Hard to believe it was only the beginnig of February.

Soon we were back at the concert hall on the square, now transformed by spotlights enhancing its architctural details.

After having paid for parking, we descended into its catacombs and retrieved our car.

I won't mention that we got a little lost on our way home (our satnav's fault, not ours) but we finally made it back to our B&B in one piece, if with slightly shattered nerves.

I will be back with our next day of adventures soon!

Linking to Patti's Visible Monday at Not Dead Yet Style!