Cherbourg and Zeebrugge
Well, I guess you could say I called it in our last episode. The Allies had to cancel and reschedule Operation Overlord (Invasion of Normandy) due to weather and that, with some help from a dazed and confused tour provider, is pretty much what happened to Uncle Jack and I in Cherbourg.
We awakened earlier than usual, excited to be seeing the beaches of Normandy and some of the history associated with our invasion 74 years ago. Woke right up to driving rain and temperatures that would be right at home in Oregon in the winter — did I mention we live in SW Florida? Cold wind and cold rain don’t exist in our vocabulary any more, but just to ensure we remember why we don’t live in the climes we were born in any more, Cherbourg thought she’d greet us properly.
Uncle Jack and I had a tour planned and I had checked with our operator two days before hand to double check when and where we would meet them - Check, Double Check… So at ten after 8 in 15-20 mph winds and consistent rain showers, we got off the ship to wait for our private tour, and wait and wait… We had of course contingency plan #1 - turn on my cell phone and call the tour operator. “Yes, we have your names, our driver is enroute, not to worry, they will be there as planned at 0830…” 8:30 rolls around, still not there - call again. They are almost there - not to worry. So I don’t bore you with every thing we did do, I can cut to the chase and say what we didn’t do, which was do our planned Normandy tour…
Why? The tour operator had two ships arriving on May 1st, our ship and Viking Star. Viking Star was supposed to arrive first; they ended up docking after we did - so all the tour vans were waiting at the Viking Star dock — while all of us on Zuiderdam - about 10 or 15 people, waited in the rain for more than an hour. Two hours after we were supposed to have left, the vans finally showed up - already 3/4’s full with folks from the other ship. Two hours late for an 8 hour tour, sopping wet and chilled to the bone, aboard a van full of folks who didn’t need to be back to their ship until 9:30pm; our departure was 5:30pm. Uncle Jack said, “Let’s bag it” and we did.
I spent an hour writing a pretty dispirited letter to the tour operator — we were so looking forward to seeing the ground our Greatest Generation had consecrated and now we had missed our chance. Later that evening, I received what I will consider one of the more moving apologies I’ve ever seen from the owner of the tour company. Rather than worry about how things had gone, he cut to the chase and apologized, almost (well, actually he did) making me feel bad for him. In these days of Risk Manager/Lawyer written apologies that are designed to limit liability while making it sound like you are sorry something unfortunate happened, this gentleman took it on the chin. So my hat is off to Andy - a true gentleman. I didn’t get to take his tour but having taken his measure as a person, I’d recommend him and his company in a second.
So Cherbourg was a hot mess — well, perhaps a cold, wet mess, but having a bathtub for a warm bath is not too bad a way to deal with a chill. Next up, Zeebrugge…
Right on time again, Zuiderdam pulled into the harbor of Zeebrugge, Belgium - to, sunshine, yeah! Hold on there cowboy, you aren’t off the ship yet… By the time we got off the ship with Aunt Sarah; Uncle Jack having decided to stay aboard, around 1pm, things were a little bit less sunny - but at least not wet - yet…
Zeebrugge is pretty much just a port facility - the closet town, Blankenberge, is about 4 or 5 kilometers away, and the city of Brugge is probably about 15 kilometers away. These aren’t exact distances on the map — I am judging distance based on how long we had to travel to get there, so how did we get there?
First, there was a shuttle bus that picked us up from the ship and took us to the port’s gate about 400 yards as the crow flies - it isn’t the distance but the fact that the port is a super busy cargo port and they don’t want tourist/passengers walking around amidst the cargo containers getting moved hither and yon. From the port’s front gate, there are two ways to go - Left and Right - with right being the direction we wanted to go in order to walk to the closest tram stop to head towards Blankenberge. It was about a 1/2 mile walk on a good side walk to get to the tram stop - passing a maritime museum (old coastguard/light house boat painted red on the shore and what I think is a post WW-II Soviet submarine in the water) along the way. Inquiring minds might want to know how to catch the tram? On the same side of the street you are walking on from the port is a small market. In this market, you can buy a “Tages Kart”. Now, I don’t know a word in Belgian, but this looked to me like the German words for a “Days Card” so I bought three of them since I’d read we would be taking both tram and bus to get to Brugge city. The card was 6 Euros each for all the buses and trams you could ride in 24 hours.
We took the tram from the stop directly across from the market heading the same direction we’d headed to get to the market in the first place - the stop is right across the street from a church (“Kerk”) so it is a good reference point. Once aboard the tram (clean and modern looking) we could see that the next stop was on a lighted sign at the front of the tram and the tram routes were depicted in maps on the left and ride side of the ceiling (the one we needed was on our left heading into town). We got off at the aptly named “Station” which was where we waited to catch bus #33, that said “Brugge” on the electronic sign which was where we were going.
We rode the bus - once again, modern and clean, for the 7 or 8 mile trip into the center of Brugge. Along the way, we were reminded again of one of the reasons we love Europe, namely, city and country co-exist side by side. One second you are in city (Blankenberge) - homes and businesses, the next second, you are in the countryside with cows, horses, crops, sheep and farm houses. This goes on for about 5 or 6 miles and then you are immediately back into the outskirts of Brugge city - the transition from one (countryside agriculture) to the other (city urbanscape) is so smooth it is actually kind of jarring when you are used to the distinctions we make in the USA. At home, “Farm to Table” seems like a really big deal; here it is just the way it is…
Brugge is a modern city of brick fascias - real and appliqué - the older buildings really are built of brick, the newer are concrete block construction with brick appliqué - the overall effect is esthetically pleasing. We got off at what we were told was the “Center” - not quite true it turned out - where we got off was right across the street from what appears to be a new urban transportation center - currently under construction. Even though it wasn’t the historical “Center” of town, it was a nice entrance to walk into the town’s historical center. It was a nice walk even though a cold rain was now starting to fall and we’d left our umbrella back on the ship (%^&@#$!!!). We were at least bundled up for the weather, even if we may have looked a bit “humid” so to speak. The town center was an easy 10 minute walk along great pedestrian streets punctuated by stores and churches (Bless me Father for I have sinned - first the American Express and then the Visa Card) - that is why they are side by side, right???
The town center was true Market Platz (German speak) - the town’s largest cathedral on one side with the other three sides taken by a historical museum and charming side walk restaurants and cafe’s. There was also a decent line of horse drawn carriages for hire - think I saw 50Euro as the fare on one of the carriages as it clip clopped by pulled by a very beautiful sorrel horse.
Having seen downtown Brugge, and contemplating our return journey back to the ship, we caught a bus and headed back to the “Station” in Brugge - in this case meaning the train station. At the train station, I could see a sign for Blankengberge, so walked up to the window and asked for 3 adult fares (in English) - each ticket was 3.1 Euros - and the actual time via train was 13 minutes from station to station (we hit 65mph along the way) non-stop. We had to wait 40 minutes for the 4:05pm train but we spent it in Starbucks with a White Chocolate Mocha and internet…
Once back in Blankenberge, we walked from the Train Station across the street to the Tram/Bus station we’d departed from 2 hours previously, and caught a tram back to our Zeebruge Kerk stop.
So what did we learn about Zeebrugge, Blankenberge, and Brugge? Easy and economical to get around — food prices on menus are super expensive - twice what we’d pay in the States - same thing in the store window displays - I don’t think I saw a pair of shoes under 130 Euros and a bunch more than 500 Euros. And with a limited sample size - e.g. one day on a couple of buses, trams, and trains in three small cities, I can tell you that Belgium is a lot more like Italy than it is like Germany or Switzerland when it comes to lines and public transportation. In Germany or Switzerland, people queue up properly and get on a bus or tram in an orderly fashion. In Italy, it is a free for all, although elders and pretty women get some slack. Belgium is pretty much like Italy except the pretty women and old guys are elbowing their way ahead of you to get on the bus or tram. Local customs never bother me - I just need to know how things are done and then I will follow suit. So after a old guy half my size elbowed his way past me the first time, I hip checked his buddy to let Aunt Sarah and Valerie get on without getting run over… You gotta’ learn from the locals… Our overall impression of Belgians is that they aren’t the warmest and fuzziest bunch of people we’ve encountered in Europe. But then you have to understand we think we’re half Italian (at least) and think Germans are warm, loving people with a great sense of humor (truth!)
So - all in all, a great but once again, rainy, visit ashore in Belgium. Tomorrow is Amsterdam - one of our favorite cities in the world. Even if it rains, we are scoring some seriously aged Gouda cheese…
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