Place du Petit Sablou

It's funny the places that will speak to you when you're travelling. On my last day in Belgium, 5 July (the day after my trip to Bruges), I had plans for another big trip but just couldn't seem to rally. Part of it related to the fact that it was a rainy and even somewhat cold day, but also I felt unnaturally tired. I had this dreadful sense that I had suddenly grown old and this lack of energy was the new normal, but then it also occurred to me that, factoring in India, I had been running for two straight weeks. So, instead I decided to just hang around Brussels for the day, and ended up having a lovely time. I visited a couple beautiful cathedrals, which I'll post on later, and spent a couple delightful hours in a little chocolate shop drinking hot cocoa and writing in my journal. While out I came across a truly delightful little park, which was a bit out of the way but which only added to its charm. It was across the street from the Eglise Notre-Dame du Sablou (Church of Our Lady of the Sablou). The Place du Petit Sablou is tucked away in between the church and a row of apartment buildings (and what I wouldn't give to live in one of those apartments for a year). It featured forty-eight bronze statues representing the medieval guilds, as well as a fountain and statue of the Catholic Counts Egmont and Hornes, who were beheaded in 1568 for protesting the cruelties of the Spanish Inquisition. My best friend David and I always talk about having enough money to travel around and get apartments in various locations for six months or a year at a time - to fully immerse yourself into an area, as compared to just passing through. I think I've found my apartment in Belgium.

Another Goodbye

On a previous post I suggested that this was going to be a year of goodbyes, and, unfortunately, I'm right. Here's a picture of my good friend and ex-student Ericka Bundy who just left Vermont to move to Austin, Texas. She's one of my all-time favorite students - mainly because of her complete disassociation of what time meant. I normally threaten students with immediate, painful death if they're late (unless they bring me donuts or cookies), but Bundy was so utterly charming and otherworldly about the entire thing that I could never get too mad at her (although I did on one occasion draw two clock-faces on the board to explain the difference between real time and Bundy-time, a story which she still tells with relish). Ericka has been a great friend to both me and my son and we'll both miss her. She's a person of tremendous courage who has overcome some monumental challenges - I am really proud of her accomplishments, and also proud to call her my friend. I'm posting a picture of the day we helped her get packed. The fellow holding the pizza is also named Scudder, although it is his first name - which I've never seen except for Vermont, wherein I now know of two people with Scudder as a first name. If you ever take the bike ferry out to the islands you'll get the chance to meet him (a prince among good fellows). There's also a picture of Ericka's three-legged cat Moe, who she called me to help drive to the cat chiropractor last April first - and, in classic Vermont fashion, it wasn't an April Fool's Day joke.

In Bruges - Church of Our Lady

Back in time once more to the 4th of July. The Onze-Lieve-Vrouwekerk (Church of our Lady) is another beautiful church I had the great pleasure to visit. It is the one I focused in on as I tried to find downtown after getting off the train - it dominates the skyline. Currently it is underdoing some pretty substantial renovations - about 3/4 of the steeple is wrapped cocoon-like. In the end I probably spent around an hour here and really enjoyed the experience. The church construction began in the 13th century and, as was typical for the age, took around two hundred years to complete. It is famous for having an actual Michelangelo sculpture (Madonna and Child), one of the few of his works that made its way outside of Italy. The statue was sculpted in 1504 and some Bruges merchant purchased it. You can also pay an additional 2 euro to visit the museum, which I did, to see some more paintings. I really enjoyed two bronze statues, placed side by side, which served to mark the final resting place of Charles the Bold, who died in 1477, and his daughter Mary of Burgundy, who died in 1482 at the tender age of twenty-five after falling off a horse. While there I also visited the Gruuthuse Museum, based on a building constructed for Lodewijk von Gruuthuse - my favorite part being the room that he had constructed that looked out into the church. The room was really basic, but I loved the idea behind it and the view of the interior of the church was pretty amazing.

Life in Vermont: Blueberry Picking

I have been getting a lot of abuse lately from the more politically unstable members of the community (that is, my close friends) for becoming an unabashed Vermonter - and this posting is not going to help my cause. Something that all Vermonters seemingly love to do is go blueberry picking, and after a decade of fighting this particular residency requirement I finally caved a couple Sundays back. My good friend Mike picked me up and we traveled into the intervale to Adam's Berry Farm. The nice woman behind the stand where we picked up our containers ($3.50 a piece for filling them up) explained the different variety of blueberries and her advice was to focus on the Nelsons. Mike had his own theories, as is his wont, but after trying several different varieties we settled on the Nelsons. My two containers, which were supposed to last long enough for me to get to the store to buy some vanilla ice cream to enjoy them with, were, naturally, completely consumed, by hand and unadorned, within two days. So, yes, I admit it - this was another very cool Vermonty thing which I thoroughly enjoyed.

In Bruges - Climbing the Belfort

OK, back to the 4th of July, which suddenly seems like a million years ago, but is really barely a month removed (this six credit class I've been teaching has been pretty all-consuming and time is flying by). Anyone who has seen the movie In Bruges (and you really should see it) is familar with the Belfry (Belfort). You enter it from the Markt, the larger of the two squares that lie at the center of Bruges. The lower section dates back to the early 13th century, and the upper area (the tower is 272 feet high) was added in the 14th and 15th centuries. The climb up is pretty cramped and it helps to be in shape - still, it's not too bad (and it was a hot day). Unfortunately, they were doing some construction at the top so half of the spectacular view was cut off - although they made up for it by giving out free passes to one of the multiple museums that are spread around town. I never pass up the opportunity to take these extra climbs (Villach, Paris, Barcelona, Vienna) and they never disappoint. So, if you're in Bruges - and even though it may seem terribly touristy - definitely climb up the 366 steps to the top.

Sangria, check

After the hiking adventure my friend Andy came over to participate in an experiment. I had just seen him and a crew of folks the night before as we got together at Ruben James and then at Akes Place to celebrate his birthday early (which made rallying for an early start on the hike a bit of a challenge this morning). Tonight, Andy, being a good soul, volunteered to taste my first ever batch of sangria. I've been talking about trying to make it for the last year after falling in love with it last summer in Barcelona. So, like any self-respecting academic, I ran off several different versions of sangria recipes off the internet and decided which one looked like the best option - and this included sitting down at Uncommon Ground with my friend Cinse and creating a compromise/experimental version of one of the recipes (which I then adapted even further). Andy brought over a pizza, we put the final touches on the sangria preparation, and watched a series of Aqua Teen Hunger Force episodes while we discussed the pros and cons of this experiment. Andy's conclusion - this was a tremendous success, although maybe a little more citrus and a little less sugar, and I need to initially run the fruit juice through a sieve to reduce the pulp (which Cinse had warned me about, but I had forgotten). Since there are few layers of competence that I can't easily crawl beneath I considered this an overwhelming success.

Life in Vermont: Climbing Camel's Hump

Today was definitely a great day. For only the second time in my ten years in Vermont I had the opportunity to climb our second highest mountain, Camel's Hump. It's the one which is the iconic image of Vermont. It does look like a camel's hump, although I like the original French designation more - Couching Lion. Years ago I climbed it with my friend Glenn who was doing graduate work at Harvard. This time was a lot easier, which I guess means I'm in better shape (because I'm certainly not any younger). This time I climbed with my good friend Trish. We've been talking about climbing Camel's Hump for some time now and we decided to take advantage of the beautiful weather (low 80's, although a lot chillier at the peak). As part of Trish's 52 New Things (which I've talked about in other posts) she's climbing Camel's Hump in all four seasons, and I think I also helped to serve as her back-up climb for summer (which is supposed to be a moon light hike) if she can't make the schedule work. She picked me up at 8:00 a.m. and we drove out through Richmond to Huntington Center to find the beginning of the Burrows trail. Along the way we stopped at a real nice little bakery in Richmond for fueling. The climb wasn't too brutal, although it was steep in several places and there was a lot of walking over rocks and tree roots. What was amazing, and I do remember this from the last time I hiked it, was how many people were on the trail, and at the summit. Vermonters do love the outdoors. It reminded me of the time, years ago, when I hiked a few hundred miles of the Appalachian Trail down in Virginia. Oh, and in classic Vermont fashion I ran into someone I know - as we were walking down from the summit we ran into my student and good friend Andrew.