In Flanders Fields

As time goes on, I realize I am less and less inclined to update this blog and more and more inclined to wander around Brussels. That or do my homework. Usually not the latter.

Regardless, the Monday sun dawned FAR too early on the start of our final week in Europe. Having gotten but 2 hours of sleep, coffee was in order, as was a water bottle that once held my delicious Kombucha tea. Dressing far too warmly for the heat that broke in Belgium, we attempted to get to Gareth's place by 10:00. Leaving by 9, then, shouldn't have been a problem since he lives about 40 minutes away by public transport...usually.

Buses 59 and 60 have a stop right outside our door. I'm talking directly across the street. If we had a street view window we could stare down the bus driver as he pulled up. Unfortunately for us, we don't have a street view window and didn't realize that the 60 bus was not only pulling up, but also leaving without us. We saw it driving off just as we opened the door. No matter, we could just wait for the next one that should come in about 10 minutes.

Wrong. It came 30 minutes later. Thank god this time the bus took us to the right destination. We arrived at Gareth's rather late, but it didn't truly matter since we weren't meeting anyone nor did we have tickets that required our attendance at a particular time. We were headed to "about as far as you can go in Belgium without going abroad" (--Gareth) in Ypres or Iepers, Belgium. That is to say, we were in Flanders truly.

We took a scenic route to get there, driving down through Wallonia (southern Belgium) before heading back up to Flanders (northern Belgium). The contrast in scenery between the two linguistic regions is rather remarkable. Wallonia is very flat farmland while Flanders is hilly. Perhaps it was the other way around? Regardless, I was too tired to take pictures. I should have.

After a long while we ended up at a World War I cemetary to commemorate all those who served in Flanders--most of them British. It was called the Tyne Cot Cemetery and as you walked toward it an automated voice spoke out the names and ages of each identified soldier buried in the cemetery. Talk about depressing.


The cemetery itself was rather beautiful, however. I would be proud to have my family buried there. The grass is well-kept. Every grave has flowers, even the unmarked ones. The marked and unmarked are all interspersed amonst each other--equality at its finest. In death we're all the same, and Tyne Cot wanted to show that.
After that morbid stop we drove a bit further to the In Flanders Fields Museum inside Ypres/Iepers. After getting lunch at a Frites Restaurant (not a stand) for a lovely cheap price, we headed across the square to the old Cathedral that had been converted to the museum itself commemorating the Flemish stalling of oncoming German troops.

We enjoyed the heat and the thrilling fountain before going in as well as the entire city which had been completely rebuilt to look like it's original pre-WWI state, except 1/5 of the size. The war had completely demolished the city in pieces. Some parts were saved, all of which were reconstructed. The buildings all look old, but definitely have a new 21st-century feel.


The museum itself was very nicely arranged. They even had that Titanic display/Holocaust museum element that provides each attendee with a card that contains the name of a person who was a part of the experience and you get to hear his/her individual story as you walk through. My person was a painter and there was an entire exhibit devoted to his work.


The drive home was pretty uninteresting since we didn't take the scenic route, but rather the faster route through industrial Flanders. Once back in Belgium, on our way to Place Flagey, we took the tunnel system to get there. Don't try holding your breath through this tunnel. It's several miles long. And there was traffic.

I crashed that night after getting through a page or two of my Judi Dench biography and didn't wake up until 4:30 the next morning.