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Traveling Tales

Travel articles and information

Tom Douglas

First-class or no-frills? You have your choice of two side-by-side Bruges hotels

by Tom Douglas

Two Bruges hotelsWhat a difference a door makes!

“Tourists land in here, take one look at the surroundings and know right away there’s been some mistake,” says Johan Creytens, owner of the Heritage Hotel in Bruges, Belgium, the city of canals that bills itself as ‘The Venice of the North.’

It’s an easy mistake to make. The Heritage, a four-star establishment, is located at Niklaas Desparsstraat 11. Right next door, at Niklaas Desparsstraat 9, is the Hotel Nicolas, with a two-star rating. It isn’t uncommon, according to Johan, for a travel-weary tourist stumbling out of a taxi late at night to wander into the wrong lodgings.

“We don’t consider ourselves competitors,” says Johan. “They serve a particular clientele and so do we. If somebody chooses the wrong place – and it happens occasionally – we cheerfully send the guest next door, and they do likewise.”

view of Bruges from hotelThe Heritage provides all the amenities its four-star designation promises, from a sumptuous breakfast buffet in a beautiful salon setting to rooms you’re thrilled to get back to after a long day of playing Jo(e) Tourist. A standard room currently goes for 140 euros single and 152 euros double. Breakfast is an extra 15 euros per person.

The Nicolas, on the other hand, rates two stars, so what you get is fairly basic. The breakfast is hearty but fairly unimaginative and the rooms, while clean and comfortable, aren’t anything to write home about. This hotel’s standard room is a wallet-pleasing 50 euros single and 60 euros double.

I recently stayed at the Hotel Heritage as their guest and they put me up in their showcase Belfry Suite on the top floor where skylights on each section of the sloped ceiling offered a breathtaking view of a different church spire.

This top-of-the-line suite came with a cozy sitting room, linen sheets on one of the most comfortable beds I’ve ever slept in and a brightly lit and richly tiled bathroom featuring a double sink, Jacuzzi bath and separate shower cabinet. The normal tariff for this suite is 404 euros single and 416 euros double.

Johan and his wife Isabelle purchased their historic building in 1992. It had been a bank for about 70 years and had had a varied existence before that, dating back more than 500 years. Extensive renovations turned the edifice into a luxurious inn and spa – and a residence for the Creytens who live in a suite on-site so they can keep close tabs on its day-to-day operations.

I also made a point of going next door to visit the Hotel Nicolas and can honestly say I would stay there without hesitation. I have paid a lot more for a lot less.

The Nicolas is also family operated by Yiling and Thomas Timmerman and they too take pride in what they have to offer. “We’re not in the same league as the Heritage,” says Yiling. “But we offer clean, comfortable accommodation for travelers keeping a fairly close eye on their budget.”

One attractive feature of these hotels is that they are just a short walk from the Market Square, where boutiques and shops offer a cornucopia of Belgian specialities, including chocolate, lace and myriad souvenirs.

There is also a vast array of eating establishments nearby. For the mussel aficionado, this popular mollusk is the main bill of fare at many Bruges restaurants and outdoor cafés, served by the heaping bowlful and accompanied by some of the crunchiest and tastiest <> (French fries) this side of Paris.

No trip to Bruges would be complete without a visit to a chocolate shop. On the must-visit list is The Chocolate Line at Simon Stevinplein 19. Owner and grand chef, Dominique Persoone, is a gregarious man who is passionate about chocolate.

As much an artist as a cook, he is continually experimenting with cocoa imports from around the world, coming up with delicacies that are fun to eat and incredibly tasty.

If you’re in his shop when he comes out front for a brief respite from his busy kitchen, he might treat you to a few samples and an amusing patter about his latest creation.

One proffered bonbon had a small plastic vial sticking out the top and a crusting of salt on one side of the chocolate. This is Dominique’s “Tequila Surprise”, which he urges you to sample just like you would the drink.

You pick up the chocolate, lick the salt from its side, pull out the vial and allow the tequila it contains to drizzle onto your tongue. You then bite into the chocolate to complete the ritual, flooding your taste buds with a tart lime filling.

Dominique’s ‘chocolate line’ also consists of such flavours as cigar (the leaves of top-of-the-line Havanas are soaked for a period of time to extract the tobacco essence), chili pepper, and a combination of black olive, basil and sun-dried tomato. Each of these odd-sounding sweets was sampled reluctantly – then finished with lip-smacking enthusiasm.

Dominique is also a VIP with the Bruges Chocolate Makers Guild and he and his colleagues spend much time busily preparing for the city’s annual Choco-Laté Festival, held around Easter time each spring. Chefs, bakers and chocolate makers dispense samples of their wares from dozens of booths set up in the city centre.

horse-drawn coachThe Heritage and Nicolas, as is the case with many other Bruges hotels, offer special rates and extra goodies like a canal boat ride and other perks during the festival to get you into the mood for a chocolate spree.

No matter which hotel you choose in this medieval West Flanders city, their doors will open onto an unforgettable experience that, just like the chocolate you’ll be nibbling on, will leave you hungering for more.

Powered by GetYourGuide. Become a partner.

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes military author and freelance travel writer Tom
Douglas who lives in Oakville, ON, Canada..

About the photos:
1: Side-by-side hotels. Heritage Hotel photo.
2: A view from the deck of the Heritage Hotel. Heritage Hotel photo.
3: In Antwerp you can see the sites from a horse-drawn carriage. Tom Douglas photo.

For more information:
www.hotel-heritage.com
www.hotelnicolas.be
www.visitbelgium.com

Ceský Krumlov: The Bohemian Jewel in Europe’s Glittering Crown

by Tom Douglas

czech republic cesky krumlovThe child in all of us yearns for a magical land where we can hide away from all our cares – places like Camelot, or Brigadoon, or Shangri-La., or Ceský Krumlov.

Ceský Krumlov? Graced with a name that to the North American ear sounds like a suppressed sneeze, this medieval town in the South Bohemian area of the Czech Republic often catches the first-time visitor by surprise, arousing a feeling of wondrous awe.

Our tour bus had arrived from Prague long after dark and, filled to the gunwales with rich Czech food that consisted mainly of dumplings, dumplings and more dumplings, I somnabulated through the hotel check-in, handing over my passport and signing the registration card by rote.

Thirty seconds after the inevitable tussle with the plastic passkey to my room, I was sound asleep, a trail of travel-weary clothing leading from the doorway to the duvet-covered bed.

Next morning, I stepped out into the large square in front of my hotel – and almost hyperventilated from an intake of breath that started at my toes.

I was standing in one of the most beautiful spots I have ever encountered. Ceský (pronounced Chess-Key) Krumlov was everything the guidebook had promised, and then some.

For starters, the skyline is dominated by a fairytale castle right out of Walt Disney’s boyhood dreams. And the town itself is situated inside the horseshoe shape of a double bend in the meandering Vltava River.

No matter which way you turn, you’re not much more than a stone’s throw away from the lulling sounds of slow-moving water. No wonder I’d slept so well the night before.

The bend of the river is partly responsible for the town’s name. Krumlov stems from the German phrase “Krumme Aue”, which translates as “crooked meadow”.

Ceský (meaning Bohemian) was tacked onto the name to differentiate the town from its counterpart, Moravský (Moravian) Krumlov, located in the southeastern part of the country.

cesky krumlov doorwayAs I started strolling along winding, narrow cobblestone streets that have swallowed up townsfolk and visitors alike for more than 800 years, I continued to marvel at the picturesque sights that greeted me around every corner.

Spared the devastation of the myriad wars that have flared up every few decades in this neck of the woods just north of the German-Austrian border, Ceský Krumlov seems suspended in time.

More than 300 buildings date as far back as the 14th century – their era identified by their Gothic (pre-AD 1400), Renaissance (1400 to 1600), and Baroque (1600 to 1750) facades.

The town in fact has such historical significance that UNESCO declared it a World Heritage Site in 1992, ensuring that no rapacious development will turn it into a condo and casino wasteland nicknamed “Vegas on the Vltava.”

Happily, however, the good burghers of Ceský Krumlov recognized the importance of orchestrated tourism as the old ways died off.

suit of armorThey allowed the innards of many of these heritage buildings to be renovated into hotels with modern-day facilities, charming cafés and pubs, elegant restaurants and quaint little shops that sell everything from suits of armour to wooden toys to profuse offerings of garnet and amber jewellery.

There are so many fascinating buildings in the Inner Town that it would take several days to take them all in. High on my list, not surprisingly, is the 400-year-old Eggenberg Brewery.

This complex of huge red brick and plaster buildings features an enormous beer hall where typical Czech cuisine (did I hear someone say dumplings?) can be washed down with one or more of the five types of beer produced on the premises.

In fact you’ll need a bracing flagon or two of Eggenberg Pilsener to numb your delicate senses as your next stop takes in the massive St.Vitus Cathedral.

During a guided tour you’ll hear how this patron saint of Bohemia was boiled in oil by some rather nasty folks and how his writhing in agony later became the secular name for chorea, a disease of the nervous system – aka St. Vitus’ Dance.

On visiting a refurbished warehouse, admirers of Vincent Van Gogh will discern similarities between the tortured Dutch artist and Egon Schiele whose talents attracted the attention and patronage of Gustav Klimt, a prominent member of Vienna’s Art Nouveau movement.

Schiele, born in Tulln, Austria in 1890, spent much of his time painting – and raising the ire of the local citizens – in Ceský Krumlov, his mother’s birthplace.

Schiele was finally run out of town after the locals got fed up with his penchant for living with a mistress and enticing innocent young girls to pose as his nude models. Like Van Gogh, Schiele died at a relatively young age – although not of a self-inflicted gunshot wound but in the Spanish Flu epidemic of 1918.

And, like Van Gogh, Schiele’s talents were little appreciated until after his death. Today, the Egon Schiele Art Centrum features a permanent exhibition of his work as well as short-term showings of other 20th century artists.

Saving the best for last, I made the climb up to the Ceský Krumlov Chateau, said to be the largest castle in the country outside of Prague.

This huge complex features a magnificent ballroom haunted by the ghosts of formally attired revellers of centuries past as well as a baroque theatre with a revolving auditorium where international music festivals are held annually.

As happens with many of the really impressive vacation spots in the world, the first visit to Ceský Krumlov leaves you with the feeling that you’ve only scratched the surface. As my tour bus began its reluctant trek back to reality, I found myself vowing to return to spend a week or more in this enchanting town where time truly does stand still.

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About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes Tom Douglas a military author and freelance travel writer who lives in Oakville, Ontario.

Photos by Tom Douglas:
1: The Vitava River meanders through the Medieval city of Cesky Kromluv
2: There’s another breath-taking site around every corner of the city
3: If you have room, you can bring home a suit of armour

For more information: www.czechtourism.com or www.czechairlines.com

Hérens Cattle of the Swiss Alps fight with Udders – and that’s no bull

Story and photos by Tom Douglas

herens cattleIt’s not the kind of sport Ernest Hemingway would have extolled in one of his adventure novels. In fact, the macho author would probably have snickered into his margarita at the thought of attending the cattle fights in the Valais canton of Switzerland.

You see, the animals that take part in the annual “Combats des Reines” to determine the top dog, as it were, are all actually, well, girls!

Your first clue is the udders that sway with each footstep beneath the bellies of the beasts as they walk into the 5000-seat Roman amphitheatre in Martigny, the French-speaking district capital situated at a crossroads between France, Italy and Switzerland.

The wicked looking horns, the throaty bellowing and the pawing of the ground beneath the hooves of these specially bred Hérens cattle would make the casual visitor think of the running of the bulls in Pamplona or a bloody corrida between matador and El Toro in Madrid.

But instead of death in the afternoon, what you have here could best be described as a bit of pushing and shoving on a glorious fall morning. Little, if any, blood is shed and the only thing hurt is the losing cows’ feelings.

The main event takes place in early October and the owners of Hérens herds all over the canton anxiously await this final showdown of their prize cows.

The winner will be declared “Queen of the Queens” since each of the contestants in this ultimate battle have been crowned queen in regional competitions throughout the spring and summer. Champions and their calves fetch astronomical prices at subsequent cattle auctions.

This “mad cow” obsession begins each year in May when the cattle are released from their winter barns and herded up to the rich grasslands of the canton’s many alpine meadows. Cranky after being cooped up indoors for several months, the cows instinctively pick a fight with each other to see who will be the alpha female – and thus enjoy the best grazing land.

The wily Swiss have capitalized on this bovine bitchiness and hold competitions in a number of alpine villages. Townsfolk as well as breeders and cowfighting enthusiasts from afar flock to watch the tussles, bet unofficially on their favourites and wash down mounds of cheese and basketfuls of bread with flagons of local wine.

While the cows have faces only their owners could know and love, the crowd keeps track of the competitors by the numbers that are whitewashed onto their hindquarters.

The entrants, sporting tough-guy names like Lion, Tarzan, Bandit and Turbo, fight in various classes according to their age and weight. The winners are awarded ornate cowbells the size of soccer balls, and the beast that stands her ground against all challengers is declared Queen of the Herd.

The story of the fighting cows of Switzerland literally poked me in the back while I was visiting the picturesque little village of St-Luc, about 1650 metres (5415 feet) above the town of Sierre.

I had joined a mixed bag of tourists from Poland, Germany and Bolivia on a white-knuckle postal bus ride that negotiated more hairpin turns than a hyperactive hairdresser up a mountain road to a parking lot just below the village.

Next came a brisk walk to a funicular railway that crawled its way up an alpine slope to a grassy area where a large herd of what appeared, at first glance, to be fighting bulls was grazing peacefully in a flower-strewn meadow. As we got closer, even we city slickers could tell that these animals were definitely female.

Two of our other fives senses had alerted us to the presence of the cattle before they actually came into view. Each of them was outfitted with a large bell around its neck and the combined clatter as they moved from one tasty floral patch to another sounded like all the churches in Bedlam celebrating a festival day at the same time.

In addition, the smell of the beasts on the hot summer air announced their presence with authority.

Assured by our guide that the critters were harmless, we all sauntered among them to take photos. I was focusing on one behemoth whose hindquarters had been painted with white numbers that reflected the last two digits of my birth year (none of your business) when a rather forceful nudge from behind almost knocked me off my feet.

Turning around to confront whoever it was who had pushed me – probably one of the playful Poles, I imagined – I came nose to muzzle with the largest animal I’d ever encountered. The thought of being butted in a high arc over a nearby mountain peak had me scrabbling for the high ground as fast as my climb-weary legs would carry me.

Once our guide had stopped guffawing at my antics, he recounted the story of the fighting Hérens cattle of the Valais canton, assuring me that they were docile now that they had determined the pecking (goring?) order of the herd.

Battling cows? Tell me another one, I thought, like alpenhorn-playing mountain goats or tap-dancing swans. Obviously the seemingly staid Swiss enjoyed relating tall tales to gullible tourists.

But I checked my guidebook when I got back to my hotel and, sure enough, those battling cows are the “true gen” as Papa Hemingway would have put it.

Perhaps I could pay for the trip by taking in some of the championship battles staged by the fighting cattle of the Valais and writing a book along the lines of something old Ernie would have churned out (no pun intended). I already have the title: A Moo-vable Feast.

Powered by GetYourGuide. Become a partner.

About the author:

This week Traveling Tales welcomes military author and freelance travel writer Tom Douglas who lives in Oakville, Ontario.

About the photos:
1: Some of the fighting Swiss cattle do lunch together among a group of photographers
2: The prize for winning one of the pushing matches billed as Swiss Cow Fights
is a bell the size of a soccer ball.
3: One of the participants in a battle for supremacy among the cattle, munches
contentedly on Alpine grass.

For more information, contact: www.myswitzerland.com or www.saint-luc.ch

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