The stop
in Cherbourg was mainly, we think, for the ship to sell bus excursions to see
the site of the D-Day invasion, an hour or two from town. We chose instead to wander through the
downtown area, which has seen better days.
We stopped at an Internet cafe in hopes of posting a blog entry, without
success. The keyboard was the first
challenge -- the French do not use a 'qwerty' layout. Then the French Google site didn't want to
let us into the Google-owned Blogspot site, but we eventually found an
English-language pathway in. The third
and fatal blow was that the system was so slow we failed to load even one
photo. So we are now over a week behind
in getting our blog posts up. We hope
Vienna will be the place we get to catch up.
Our next
stop was magical. The boat docked in
Zeebrugge, or "Bruges By the Sea," and we paid for a bus service that
brought us into the heart of Bruges itself, 25 minutes away. On the way there and back we got a good look at
the bicycling infrastructure that Belgium and Holland are so famous for.
Bruges calls itself the "Venice of the North" and we did pass a number of canals. But the streets were sometimes just as interesting, as they twisted and turned and showed you something interesting every few meters.
As we climbed further, we came to a second even larger room. We crossed it and started up yet another section of steps that took us far above its ceiling and into the realm of the bells. A sign explained that when the first part of the tower went up between 1240 and 1280, time was a relative thing. Bells signaled morning, mid-day and evening, but the concept of measuring time was alien to the age. Then some clever mechanics started doing just that, and by the late Middle Ages the tower was famous for its bells striking the hour 24 times a day at actual 60-minute intervals. Today the bells are run like a giant music box by this brass drum that a nearby sign said was the largest in the world of its type. As it is about 6' in diameter and maybe 10' wide, that's entirely possible.
We
finished up our too-brief visit by wandering past more fanciful buildings, both
public and private, and by admiring the wares in Bruges' many chocolate
shops. One even appeared to cater to
chocoholics with a foot fetish.
The ferry
Brittanica is almost as long and tall
as the cruise ship, and the English Channel was calm, so the crossing was
easy. We said goodbye to the Infinity and took a look at downtown Harwich as we pulled out of the Stour
Estuary and at a windmill farm one hour out of town in the middle of the
Channel. 6 1/2 hours from Harwich we
were docked at the Hook of Holland, looking westward at the mouth of the mighty
Rhine.
We will
be back to the Hook of Holland two more times, in late July and then early
August, when we descend the Rhine to take the same ferry over and back for an
18-day tour of East Anglia. But right
now it's off to Amsterdam for the real
start of our European adventure. We'll
take you with us by train to Amsterdam and then Berlin in our next blog, and to
Vienna for the start of our bicycle adventure in the following one.
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