Morocco

I've always dreamed of going to Morocco.  Intrigued by the culture, the long flowing caftans, colors and landscape, it was a place I felt held stories within its castle walls.
 I'd pictured it among many things a mecca for artists, writers and musicians to escape the mundane banalities of western life. A place where you could draw inspiration from its magnificent wealth and  often the setting for many of the sordid, exciting tales of late 60's and 70's.

                    Keith famously stealing Anita from Brian Jones while on a trip to Tangier.

The iconic photo of Talitha Getty on the roof with her husband in Marrakech.

YSL and his beautiful and always inspired collections drawn from his life in Marrakech made me want to lounge around, with big chunky jewelry and an arm full of bangles and let the color and the warmth envelop me.

YSL lounging in Marrakech

Writers, photographers and socialites from the late 50s and 60's....

                                            Irvin Penn's forever stunning wife, Lisa Fonssagrives.

Woman in Moroccan Palace

Truman Capote in Tangier

Paul Bowles in Tangier

Matisse

Barbara Hutton

Vogue, Harpers, their endless editorials with nods to Sahara, tiled riads and wild splashes of color.

                             Mococco had been calling, and now it was finally time to answer.




We decided to spend 9 days during Christmas break in Morocco. Needless to say, I was beside myself with excitement. My lifelong dream was finally being realized and with a happily obliging husband whose love of rock and roll history and tales of yore surpasses my own, we set off on our long dreamt adventure.  In the posts that follow I will try to do my very best to recreate some of our adventures with and share our experiences, some high, some low but all with laughter and LOVE!

Ooooh! That Gwynnie! She beat me to it!

        

I was walking through the Brussels train station, looking in the window of a pharmacy and lamenting on whether or not I should do post on beauty products in Europe.  

Pharmacy's here in Europe never cease to amaze and intimidate. They aren't anywhere as massive as Rite Aid or CVS but instead, small little shops, their illuminated green cross like a beacon urging you to come inside and explore their exotic beauty treasures.

 Inside, row upon row of shampoos, lotions, soaps, and assorted sprays for an assortment uses, brands you've never heard of but look really fancy because they are all foreign, beg to be picked up and taken home. They are almost always picked up, smelled and examined,  but hardly ever taken home.
It's overwhelming. And I want it all.
What's stopped me from venturing into this magical land of European beauty products?
Well, for one,  the massive list of items I've just requested and am having sent from back home.
And Two, my hesitance and utter laziness to walk around the store with a translator trying to decipher the function and what's inside all these precious foreign products.
 I know, I know,  Trés layzeee! ( i made that last word up)
I mean, do you know how long it's taken me to find great smelling organic body lotion that leaves my skin silky smooth without parabens or animal testing in my own country let alone another??? And that's in English.

Anyway.
This is why I love Goop.
 Gwyneth makes it so easy and is clearly not lazy or intimidated by the French language or pharmacies like yours truly. Her posts are always useful, fun and trés chic!
 Maybe I'll get that little translator out after all!

Chcck it out!
GOOP Get : The French Pharmacy
http://www.goop.com/newsletter/114/en/

Creamy cauliflower Soup

 I make a big fuss over not being a great cook. Which since we arrived, has been true. 
However I can follow a recipe or do very basic things without too much goofing. Most of the time.
A while back I found this great cauliflower soup recipe in Sunset magazine.  I modified it a little to make it more fool proof and it almost always turns out amazing.  
What's better is it's super easy and there are usually leftovers. On Wednesdays (market day), I grab the ingredients and get cookin'.

1- 2 tablespoons  Extra V. Olive Oil

1 Large yellow Onion- chopped

2-  large garlic cloves minced or 3 small ones

1 large cauliflower head- chopped

5 cups chicken broth or veggie broth*

(i've tried both and they are great)  

1 cup water

*You can also do 4 cups broth, 1 cup water for a thicker soup.

salt and pepper as you go

Butter- I add it sometimes, but not if you want the vegan version.

parsley and/or chives for  topping

 more Olive oil for drizzle

Getting started is easy.  

Prep all the ingredients as seen above.

Chop the onions, garlic, wash the cauliflower and chop that sucker up too.

In a pot heat the Olive oil. When it's hot, but not too hot, drop the garlic and onions. The garlic should make a sizzle when it hits, not a crazy sizzle but a light hiss. You don't want the garlic to brown. This is usually the step where I add a little butter, but I'm a fatty like that.

Saute until the onions are almost soft and then add the cauliflower. I like to saute them all together for a few minutes before I add the broth. This is a good time to add some fresh pepper and a little salt. Salt with caution. The broth can make it saaalty.

Add the chicken or veggie broth and water. I use Organic Better than Bouillon chicken stock  when I can out of convience but you can use it out of the can or carton or homemade stock if you're fancy like that. (However, if you're fancy like that you probably don't need to read these detailed directions!)

Bring to a boil. Reduce heat to a simmer for 10-15 mins.

When everyone seems soft and happy sufficiently cooked , get ready to set up the blender or food processor.

It will be hot.  I'm always too impatient to let it cool. I suggest you do that to avoid getting burned but do whatever you want. I do.

I forgot to photograph this step, so put it back real quick mid wash.

I blend in 3 batches. I like it really creamy and smooth. But if you like it chunky you can lightly pulse the last batch and then add it to the bowl. There are no rules here.

Once your soup is finished, chop up your parsley and chives.

Add, Drizzle with Olive oil and EAT! YUM!!!!!!

Coupla tips. 

For the non cooks, this is so easy. Don't be intimidated. 

 If you cry from the onions, stick your head in the freezer for a few seconds. I swear it stops the burning almost immediately. 

It's a really versatile recipe . Veggie, chicken, Vegan. You can also make this with 2 med sized onions and less broth- as noted above to make it thicker.That's in the original recipe. I imagine if you are doing a Vegan diet or dairy free diet this would be delish as a mock cream sauce. I haven't tried it but thought of it while on the yeast free diet last year. We ate all the soup before I had time to experiment. 

If you want to see the original recipe, go to: http://find.myrecipes.com/recipes/recipefinder.dyn?action=displayRecipe&recipe_id=10000001865448

Their recipe calls for white wine and less liquid. But I don't know how to cook with white wine, it comes out sour or something, so i just avoid it. 

Happy Souping!

Renting and Raving in Bruges

Renting here in Bruges can be tricky.
 I imagine most people who come to Bruges focus on hotels or short term rentals. But for a longer stay, say like 2 years, an apartment or house is necessary.
The lease on an apartment is usually for 9 years but after 3 years, breaking the lease is easier or less costly, or however it goes. That's quite a commitment so you want to be sure you like where you're at cause you'll be stuck there for a while.
Our transition here in Bruges was not exactly easy. For one, as soon as we arrived we discovered that NO DOGS were allowed in ANY apartments. And most houses too, unless they were outside of the city. That pretty much put us at odds with Bruges right away.  Behind closed doors we were like Alec Baldwin's character in The Departed- slightly re-imagined for this situation- "What are you one of those anti dog freaks- Go ... yourself."
For 2 months, we went to every agency in town searching for a place that would accept a dog with little luck. Each company holds it's own listings and most of the time there isn't any overlap. Going to different agencies is crucial, if not imperative.
 In general the Realtors in Bruges ought to just give you the keys so you can see the places yourself. They do very little other than show up on their bike and take you around unenthusiastically. It was the most astonishing "customer service" ever. You think the barely audible, unhelpful goth teener behind the counter in the US chain store is bad, you ain't seen nothin' compared to Bruges realty. Often times you want to check for a pulse.
I'm serious.
To make this blog useful, not only cathartic,  and for those who ever plan to rent a place here ( don't do it)  this is the realtor run down. It's all downhill after that.

Dewaele
http://www.dewaele.com/nl/
Has the best listings hands down and the most up to date, expensive remodeled places ( often times with new laminate "wood" floors, a pet peeve). However. They have the rudest least helpful service(one woman in a particular) and working with them was really more frustrating than not finding an apartment.
Also, NO Dogs in most of their listings.

Agence Coucke
http://www.agencecoucke.be
This is one of my positive experiences and I use that loosely. The woman here was pleasant and willing to show us a place immediately. They don't have a huge rental selection ( Dewaele seems to have a monopoly) but some of the houses they have to buy are gorgeous.

Desmet and Poupeye
 http://www.desmet-poupeye.be
It's a really funny name that kept us laughing through the whole process. Their listings are not that great but inexpensive and in and out of the city.

Stubbo Denoo
http://www.stubbedenoo.be/
The ladies here were really helpful and although the house we tried to get fell through due to another agency also holding the listing- I won't say who. They were the most active in helping us find a place. Again, the selection is not as good as Dewaele but you will have a much better time interacting with this company than others. You'd be surprised how vulnerable you are in a new country with no home and unhelpful service. Any help goes a loooong way here.

In the end it came down to 2 places for us.
One, a huge house that housed a smelly Newfoundland (so dogs were allowed) and an apartment that was being restored that we had no idea the outcome.
The first place, my choice, was owned by what we would maybe call a slum lord on dramatic days in the states, had a severe leak, which in rainy Belgium is a real problem,  and the subsequent mold you could smell from the attic. On closer inspection, you could actually see the mold spores behind the kitchen cabinet. -Yes I was desperate. I know this now, it seemed so perfect otherwise!
 Things fell through and I can say now looking back that would have been a baaaaad scene.
That left us with ONE LAST CHOICE. The unfinished apartment.
 Like many couples, we disagree from time to time. But never about homes.  However, on these 2 places we could not get on the same page. I refused to believe this was the place for us but my better half insisted it was the ONE. He is typically much more logical and unemotional so i took it to mean maybe I was being too wary, too negative.
 We were also temporarily living in the attic apartment of the owner of the unfinished apartment so that didn't help matters much. Everyday when we came downstairs and saw him,  he would ask if we wanted the place." No pressure, no problem" but it was everyday.  So, yea a little pressure and yea, a little problem.
We had to wait a month plus for it to be finished having no idea the outcome or what it would look like. It was an apartment that had 3 unfinished floors, the ground floor would be his store, and the other 2 our place. The outside of the building was old and beautiful and to his credit so was his work  on the inside of the other place we were staying. The combination had promise, but I wasn't sold.
We were assured it would not be too noisy, my number one and major hesitation as I had big plans to concentrate, write, craft and enjoy my long days alone in the apartment while huz is off at work.
"No no, eet will be goed, not loud, eet eez very goed"  ( this is my best french belgian accent)
Desperate and exhausted from the fruitless searches, I relented. And I'm telling you, ladies, gents, STICK TO YOUR GUT.

In  the ceiling of the shop, which is the floor of our bedroom and living room, there were many small holes that let a whole lotta sound through.  Or so we thought. ( There is still a little hole in my bathroom floor that when the light is on downstairs I can see the red on the walls and a stream of cold air can be felt in the night. Awesome Right?)
Upon asking, "The floor/ceiling is going to be insulted right?" He replied " Eet was, but I saw eet, and eet eez so beautyful, no? So I keep it. But fix the gats, (holes)  Ça VA? "
I mean, I guess "ça va", I haven't seen it finished yet to know.

The upstairs bedroom was plastered poo brown, we hoped temporarily. When we asked  "This is going to be white right? " He replied "Oh no, eet eez Bio, the white paint eeez toxic and expenseeeve, Ça va?  eet eez beautyful no??" Uhhh, no. Not really our thing.
 I guess our downstairs bedroom and living room must be pretty toxic since they have been painted a lovely white. But, we rolled with it,  sleep downstairs in the white room, bought rugs for the thin floors,  hopeful it would buffer sound.
We had been living out of bags and just wanted peace, quiet and order.

But things that were promised went unattended. A washer and dryer took weeks after the promised date and doing a load of laundry here is 4-6 euro per load, so $ 5.43- 8.15 kinda adds up.

The dishwasher was never to be seen or heard of again,  light fixtures left un-fixed so a row of raw bulbs hang from the kitchen wall like gouged eyeballs. An 1800's??? mural in the living room uncovered during the construction ( cool!) that was supposed to be re touched,  is still mottled with big white paster splotches. (Uncool!)

It's really cool, but sort of an eyesore 

The list goes on and on. All these things are minor compared to the day to day nightmare. The constant and never ending NOISE. Anyone excited to visit yet?

Okay.  So maybe I'm exaggerating. If that's the worst thing ever than we're pretty lucky. But truthfully we've got a lot of other things we deal with on a day to day that won't ever make it to this blog, and mellow is actually something we need. 

That beauutyful floor/ceiling is paper thin. With the rugs and the holes patched I still hear singing, whistling, every bang, every noise and if I listen hard enough sometimes I can tell if the worker is a smoker or not just by his breathing or coughing.  Asking them nicely not to make noise while doing construction seems a bit unrealistic. Who wants to tell someone, "Uh could you please not sing or whistle or enjoy yourself on any level while you work? Oh and bang a little softer?Thanks." Not me!
Worst of all, by 8:30 every morning, I am woken up to what sounds like a man in my room but is really our landlord "Ça Va?" ( a name given by us because it might be the only word he knows aside from beauutyful) downstairs,  bellowing in his deep monotone voice "Ça Va?! "and other instructions in French and Dutch to the workers. Really? So loud? Good Morning to me.

We've tried the "10 Positives to every Negative"approach and suffice it to say there just isn't enough positive to cancel out the negative, even if we repeat them. "Chocolate, Paris, travel, flemish beef stew, canals, beer, brussel sprouts? lace? mmmmmm ? Chocolate? Paris?....." 

On these noisy days, it's not fun. It's not cozy and it's not some wonderful bohemian life in Europe. I wish I could say it was.

You can't tell from this pic but he can be really crabby.

If the dog was here, and not being cared for by his dutiful nana in NY,  he would go ballistic from the noise and would only add to all his rescue bulldog anxieties. So with irony, the place we choose because we could have a dog, remains dog-less until further notice. That certainly doesn't help my daily mood or adjustment being without my beloved bullie. Look at him. You would really miss him too!
After this construction,  I can look forward to the customers downstairs, the embroidery machine and whatever music they decide to play in the shop while it's open. 6 days a week.  It's hard the imagine the floor will ever stop being thin and the noise won't forever- or as long as we are here- find its way upstairs. Grrrrr

I wish I could just give in and accept the noise, all the stuff in our place unfinished, the endless amounts of construction and plaster dust that still finds a way to blanket our counters and belongings, no matter how hard we clean and the subsequent cold and allergies I suffer as a result. Or  take back the trust bestowed ( Ahem, Ça Va) and start over with a better picture of what this place would really be like. 

 A very wise man once told me; If I ask you to put out your foot, and I stomp on it  but then say sorry, it's fair that you might forgive me. But if I ask you again, do the same thing and then ask you again and do the same, it's probably time to stop engaging and/or putting out your foot to have me stomp it. I might be botching the words a little but thats the idea more or less.  This comes into my mind almost daily.

For me, my stomped foot is from Ca Va, his army of workers and layers and layers of non truths that affect us day after day.  Maybe when he says tomorrow in English and I believe him,  he really means never. Or by not noisy he means, not that noisy.  I can't seem to find a way not to engage in this situation or stop putting my foot out, since I live here! 

  Unfortunately, moving is not an option.  I won't go out all day. In this cold??!!!!
That's crazy time!

Some days, I put that best throbbing foot forward and look on the bright side or go upstairs where it's a little quieter, but not by much.  It's hard to shut down your hearing. 

Especially when, while writing this post, my couch was doing tiny leaps off the floor in time with every hard bang on the ceiling from below.  I kid you not, I was sitting on it.

When I was younger, to keep things in perspective my mom used to say " Just be grateful you didn't lose an leg in a land mine."  Sometimes it was hard to be grateful for that since there weren't any cases of unexploded ordnance in Upstate NY, nor did anyone I know at that time suffer such a loss from a similar accident. My pimple, or bad hair day remained paramount regardless of whether or not I had my limbs.

That being said,  I get that I'm in a good place and some would kill to listen to banging all day just to have this experience. If I could put them here in the house in my place, load them with food and chocolate and freedom  I certainly would. I want everyone to be happy. Especially myself.

 But, since this is my blog, I will rant if I want to. Regardless of silver lining and perpective.
 Some days it's amazing in Bruges or our travels in Europe and some days it's just, not. Like today.
And good god, if you plan to move here, please think veeeery carefully about where you live. I cannot stress that enough. In fact. Do that anyway. Wherever you are. I know I will for the rest of my life.  

As you are reading this, if it's gorgeously quiet and peaceful where you live( lucky you), and all you can hear is your own breathing or birds outside, your kids laughing or your computer humming, think of me and take a moment to be grateful that you don't live above a construction site. Or that you've got your limbs.
 Or whatever works.
Ça Va?

Paris

We are off to Paris for a long weekend. There are far too many fabulous informative blogs about Paris so I won't attempt to do what's been done so very well.
Instead I would like to share with you some of my favorites.
They are helpful, informative and get you really, really excited for your visit!

http://www.davidlebovitz.com/paris/

It's beyond informative in all the best ways and I haven't even BEGUN to scratch the surface. Lots of cooking, things to do list, recipes etc.

http://www.parisbao.com/
Done as only a true insider could. And what's even better? It's in English.  NO google translator needed.Yay!
I still can't get those beautiful umbrellas from one of her posts out of my head. You'll see. It's great.

http://www.yelp.fr/

New and greatly appreciated, we found a late night resturant near our no mans land hotel last time we were visiting. I heavily relied on Yelp in the states it's great to have one now in Paris.

http://www.paris.fr/portail/english/Portal.lut?page_id=8118
What's going on in Paris site.

http://www.parisperfect.com/paris-shopping-guide/consignment-stores.php
While I haven't used the site for it's rental apartments, I've gotten some great info. Maps of the city, arrondissements, the Puces and other nifty things I didn't know!

That's all for now!  Gotta catch the train.
From Bruges/Paris with love!

Hot Chocolate like- Whoa.

I don't like being that person who swears they know "THE BEST" of anything. 
It sets you up to be either a know it all or questioned on your tastes critically. Neither of which interest me.
So as I begin this post, I will say that we discovered what is to me, some damn good hot chocolate here in Bruges. To confirm this statement  I took a girlfriend that was recently visiting to see if she too found it as yummy as we did.

De Proeverie Tearoom is located on Katelijnestraat. It's a very touristy street, one of the canal tour  companies operates right next store.   

This adorable little shop usually showcases it's perfectly frosted cupcakes in the window and has just the right amount of pastel without being too tacky. Inside you will find lovely pastries, delicately placed inside the counter. There's a fireplace and a bigger room in the back for busier days. 
Also, a  HUGE plus, they are open on Sundays.  
The chocolate they use for this decadent treat is from their chocolaterie, Sukerbuyc, directly across the street.  It must be said that they are not too friendly over there at the chocolate shop and have strict rules about the chocolate buying, like, no individual chocolate picking or something. 
 But, a little bit of cranky can be ignored after you've been sipping away to your hearts content,  high on hot chocolate served from the friendly staff at De Proeverie. 


We sit ourselves down, shed our layers and order up 3 gorgeous hot chocolates. ( I'm really bringing the adjectives today!)

After you stare at this mesmerizing display of rich chocolate for a few beats you begin the mixing process.

YUM!

They actually serve this with a cube of sugar which is beyond my comprehension. It doesn't lack sweetness, so please whatever you do, don't touch that sugar cube.

No Chocolate Left Behind!

Clean Mug Club. Good til the last drop.

.


In the end, it was decided by all that this was indeed the most absolutely delicious and, to us, possibly "best " hot chocolate we'd ever had.  
And if you need any more convincing, they claim it to be "world famous " on their website. 
 Saves me from being the know it all!




De Proeverie Tearoom- Katelijnestraat 6  -  8000 Bruges
http://www.deproeverie.be/

A Pleasant Surprise.

Shopping in Bruges is not something I do often. Not by choice mind you, I love me some shopping. But when I moved to Bruges I made a decision that I was going to slowly weed out the H&M and other fall apart brands from my life and only purchase items that were classic and would last. Take advantage of being in Europe (before i learned the Euro would slaughter me daily) and move into the "grown up" sphere of designer and quality clothing.
 There are very few specialty designer stores here in town that cater to that vision and for the most part, the shopping streets have lots of chain clothing stores, H&M, IMMO, ZARA, ESPRIT, MANGO , ETC. I am quite sure you can find great things inside many of these stores but I try to avoid them and stay focused on my goal.

I discovered the store Quicke about a month ago before a trip to Paris to buy a bag ( yea, yea, it sounds real fancy 'n all but it's those perks that keep me from the edge of the Belfry some days).
  I was picking up my usual Kip (chicken) Curry sandwich from the little hallway of a sandwich/pastry shop I love called St Salvadore, when I noticed it across the way.

Enticed by the endless amounts of shoes in the window, and happy to get out of whatever cold dreary Bruges day this was, I head inside. The view in front of me opens to a row of bags, perfectly placed on a shelf, illuminated by the lighting below.  I know them immediately.
Celine.
The french brand that has so classicly and chicly been revisioned by Phoebe Philo.
 Say what? Say yup, they have Celine. The mecca for which I would be visiting in a few days to purchase a bag.  Not only am I a Francophile but also a Philophile. ( not to be confused with the nasty business in the Catholic church.)
I am shocked that Bruges has something I have been lusting over and make a mental note to return once Spring collection is due in. Just to look.  Since it is Bruges and not Paris, the selection is on the safer side in terms of the styles but I spy the Agneau tote and some other fashion-y pieces so I trust beginning of the season could have some goodies.  

I go about my business, leave for my trip to Paris with a girlfriend. We end up taking more trips to Le Bon Marche and macaron shops than Celine,  I decide I'm incapable of deciding on what bag I want and return home, empty handbagged. 

Until a few days ago.

 I ran out to get some groceries for whatever I was making in my savage attempt at a dinner that night.  Pasta? veggies? Who knows. What I cooked or picked up have since been overshadowed. And for certain the meal was not memorable. 

 As I walked to the supermarket ( which is really not super in terms of size or assortment, more like mini or a halfsies market) I saw SOLDEN signs in just about every window that wasn't a restaurant.  At first, I wrestled with the possibility that it meant the stores themselves had been sold, but soon I caught on to what it actually meant, "SALE". We didn't cover enough shopping terms in Dutch class. :)

It should be said that Bruges (and other parts of Europe I would assume) don't really do "sales" like the US. Here it's  bi-annually; January and July for the entire month.
 Otherwise It's full price Euro whether the rest of the world has it online or in their stores for half off or not.
 I decided to do a little detour on the walk home and check out Quicke,  the store I had made the mental note of some time ago to see if they too had any SOLDEN signs in the window.

I arrived to see the window filled with sale and went inside for a look around.

Where there are winter sales there are racks of spring merchandise, with their promise of better weather,  waiting to be displayed in the stock room. This may be my big chance to peep the new Celine collection, or what they have selected from it.
I am greeted with mild disdain- I admit- I was soaked from the rain and wearing a cotton army green parka ( whose pockets double as my purse) and rubber boots- but the saleslady graciously went in the back to bring out the bags she had just gotten in. Eek the excitement.
 I pull it together and try to forget my hat hair,  that I feel a little like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman and don't want to be impulsive just to prove the saleslady wrong.
 But there they were. The mini luggage tote in lipstick and camel, the Trio in blush and navy.

Trio bags in assorted colors.

 It was like a dream.
I wasn't in Bruges, it wasn't raining. My cotton parka wasn't a sad little state of affair from H&M. ( OK i broke one rule- it was so just so cold!)










I was in my own personal fantasy of possibility. What outfits to go with which bag, how many seasons could I pull of this color versus that. In that moment it was me, the mirror and Celine.
After much deliberation, I went with a  possibly not so timeless choice, the blush with rose gold hardware, but loving it and hoping it would match in all the ways I hoped to my existing wardrobe. The saleslady was nicer, everyone chimed in on what they thought was the best choice and I was Sold.

My Quicke detour was a highlight and a place i would have never given a second look to among all the other shoe stores on that street. I'm so glad I did!  If wandering along Zuidzandstraat in Bruges,  I would recommend popping in if you like fashion or want a change from the H&M's and Zara's on the street.  They have D&G, Barbara Bui and a solid selection of mens shoes from what I saw. I will admit I had tunnel vision so I can't weigh in on the other designers.
 And although I was met at the door back home with a bit of confusion, soaked and exhilarated as I was,  all parties agree that I made an excellent choice.
Even if all parties are just me and the mirror.

Quicke-  Zuidzandstraat 21-23 8000 Brugge  
www.quicke.be

www.celine.com

 .

the Markt

The "Markt"( Market Square) is located smack in the middle of Bruges, surrounded by the Belfry, Post office and other historical buildings. There is limited auto travel allowed in the markt so it tends to be a place full of picture taking and the aimless meandering of tourists looking up toward the sky, mouths agape. You can catch buses to other parts in and out of the city here and they run often.
 It also serves as the stage for installations ( as seen above, the big grassy hill) and the lovely Christmas festivities. This year they built a mini winter wonderland right in the middle of the center. There was an ice rink encircled by cute little wooden cabins containing  gulhwijn, waffles, hot chocolate and other delicious treats and things to buy. The markt this time of year is a must see! The pictures barely do it justice. But here's an idea.                          
                                                                                    

THE ICE SKATING RINK

 



Christmas crowds around the food and drink stands. Yummy hot drinks and sausage on this side. Sweet crepes and waffles on the other.

                                                                                         

A view from the back of the wooden stalls.

 Every Wednesday, with the exception of the installations or holiday festivities as seen above, they hold a Farmers market.  Now that the holidays have passed, the weekly market has returned to it's usual home  in the center. It starts early in the morning and goes until around 1pm.

Pates and other homemade condiments

A view from outside the market.

 Coming from the US, and especially the West coast, I've become very spoiled by the ability to get just about anything you want any time of year.  Here you really feel that you are eating in season, and you know immediately when something has been shipped a very long distance. It shows in it's lack of color and taste. This does offer challenges if your not used to being a seasonal cook. Which I'm not. (Whadayamean I can't get red gorgeous vine ripened tomatoes in the dead of winter???)

It's a great place to start your mid week shopping and it's always fun to walk around and see all the different types of cheese, cured meats and fruit stalls. One particular vendor always sells passion fruit which I have been obsessed with since our trip to Fiji but unable to find easily back in the states. Sometimes on my bad days, it's one positive thing I come up with about Bruges; the accessibility of Passion Fruit. Aside from the chocolate, of course.

In the beginning I was overwhelmed by it all. Many things are priced by weight or bundles. For this, I was not prepared. Being a little deficient in the mathematics department, the metric system is not something I've mastered or become even so much as acquainted with. So, it's no surprise that my first Wednesday I returned home with a 3 pound assortment of cheese and an ungodly amount of leeks. We learn.

 Sometimes I skip or sleep through the market. But when I make it; the Wednesday shopping ritual goes like this.

1)Make a list of produce in that weeks attempt of planning ahead. Usually very optimistic and will ultimately end up going bad before there is a chance to use. ( in my defense the celery is heavier and larger than anything I have ever seen and comes with these long leaves attached. You have to fold it to fit it in the fridge. Two people cannot eat all that celery. )
2) Frantically throw my clothes on in layers, make sure i have cash and rush out the door before everyone is packing up. (usually about noon) While I walk run, I try to recite the different veggie's names in Dutch in my head. Peterselie, komkommer, paprika, ajuin etc...
3)Avoid the guy who screams "Lekkerrrr Lekkerrrrr" since that's my least favorite word in Dutch. I'm sure he's lovely. These are just my ways.
4) Buy one of these delicious rotisserie chickens that save my life every Wednesday. They even offer to cut it up for you! (if you're visiting you can buy chicken on a stick, roasted potaotes and other things you can take away easily.)

All in all, it's a delightful thing to see whether you are food shopping or not. You can look around the center and admire the pretty buildings while eating meat on a stick or see some of the local color of Bruges. But while your looking up, be mindful to keep out of the way of the many bicycle riders. They take no prisoners.

Where to begin?

This blog is meant to be a way for me to keep busy, write and not lose my mind while living here, in Bruges, for the next 20 months or so. 
 I can't say it's been a an easy acclamation for us,  nor can I say that I don't miss the California sun, my friends, family, or even - GASP- I thought I would never say this, GUAM. ( More on that later.)
 My feelings about living here vacillate from day to day. Some days I feel ripped from the life I once knew. I question whether I have what it takes to gracefully accept this life of constant moving like all of those bohemian travelers I always admired. They never mentioned the friendships that fade away with distance or weddings and major milestones missed. They make it look so easy, so chic! 
 Other days I fear I might crumble under my own inability to let go of what "isn't" instead of focusing on what "is".
 In my more positive moments, I see the beauty and the history of this place. The chocolate, the waffles, my lovely husband who makes all of this worth while. I forget the language barriers and focus on the swans in the canal. I see there is always something new to explore in this lovely city and perhaps having a reason to do so might make the time here move by just a lil' faster. And most importantly, get me out of my own head. 
So. As a result of this repeated diatribe to all that will listen,  it's been suggested to me dozens of times from  well meaning friends that I should start a blog. Whether they believe me to be interesting enough to report on day to day life here or just worry for my ability to stay sane without work or friends I still don't know.  
But here goes. I hope you all enjoy the tales from what has become this movable life of mine.