,
Now that the
Kid and I were comfortably settled into our Bruges hotel, our earlier setbacks
virtually forgotten, it was time to lace up our sneakers and head out in search
of fine Belgian cuisine and indulge in some moules, munch on a couple of frites
and swill back a few bottles of cherry infused Kriek. Luckily for us, our quaint hotel was located
just a few metres off of the main square, an easy three minute traipse to
cafés, shops and fine dining establishments catering to the indiscriminate
tastes of tourist budget menus. That is,
if over-priced pizza, bread and tap water (huh?) qualify as fine gastronomic
delicacies worthy of five-star glowing Michelin reviews.
Tummies
grumbling, desperate to be fed anything that resembled food, be it stale crisps
or unappealing rubber chicken, my niece and I would happily have been content
to chow down on literally whatever at this point. Reluctant to dine on plastic wrapped vending
machine pre-packaged foodstuffs whilst miserably sequestered for hours upon end
in a railway station, we had foolishly ignored our hunger pangs, instead
envisioning a table laden with gourmet fare - a highly anticipated feast that we
would treat ourselves to upon our arrival in medieval canal-lined Bruges. What we hadn’t expected was to instead race
into the very first restaurant that we stumbled across, regardless of the menu choices
offered, anxious to sink our teeth into any type of grub. And that is how we ended up in one of the
denizens of random eateries that encircled the town’s main square, squished in
like a sardine alongside the boatloads of other ravenous tourists.
Quickly
scanning the menu, I ordered a pizza Margherita, a ham and cheese stacked sandwich
for the Kid and a lager for myself.
Mindful of the fact that soda costs an arm and a leg in Europe, more
than double the price of vino at 5 Euro or more, I reminded Miss Niece that tap
water is free, delicious and oh so
yummy. Too famished to protest the
abject unfairness of her Coca-Cola-free lunch, le niece hungrily devoured her
meal, washing it down with the free water. Oh, did I mention that tap water is
free? Well, apparently not, as this fine
dining establishment had the audacity to charge us 2 Euro for the privilege of
drinking regular water poured from a sputtering fawcett! Had I been privy to the underhandedness of the
shameless waiter who charged us for mere water, I would have gladly encouraged
the Kid to order a Perrier or any other type of bubbling concoction, even le
dreaded Cola at an exorbitant 5 Euros a pop, for that matter.
Leaving quite
the unpleasant taste in our mouths, this initial welcome was not the most
desirable of ways in which to acquaint ourselves with this quaint medieval
town. So, let this be a lesson to all of
you would-be globe trotters. Take the
time to scout out prospective dining establishments and read the fine print on
the menus, as in my haste to satiate our rumbling tummies, I perhaps had
neglected to notice that even tap water was subject to a 2 Euro payment
fee. Nonetheless, I no longer objected
to the Kid ordering the occasional Coca-Cola with her dinner, as hey, it could
be worse, as she could instead be guzzling that oh so yummy over-priced common tap water by the truckloads,
consequently breaking the bank and bankrupting me into a penniless existence.
Come dine on
gastronomic delicacies by washing it all down with some yummy, exorbitantly over-priced
tap water, which costs a pretty penny or two, so why not indulge in some cheapo
vino instead? Come traipse around Europe
with the Kid and I as we amble, meander and stumble on ahead in our quest to discover
new found adventures.
Next week –
where else in Bruges do our pink-sneakered feet take us? Stay tuned!!
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