Bruges

Sunday April 13th
Paul (of Paul's Taxis) collected us at 8:45 and took us to Leeds Station (via Burley Park) where we had a latte in Starbucks, posted Paul Harris' Birthday Card before we caught a train to Kings Cross (saw Eleanor and Ken Hough). We got the Eurostar to Lille. (Big) Pete was the tour guide and introduced himself - then at nearly 3:30pm continental time we got off at got a coach to Bruges. We walked to the Hotel - the last bit - Grand Hotel Casselbergh.

http://uk.hotels.com/ho336243/grand-hotel-casselbergh-bruges-bruges-belgium/?PSRC=AFF05&dateless=true&gclid=CjwKEAjw-o6hBRDOmsPSjqakuzYSJADR2V3SYRN8KS2Ci-IlXsoDyrLN-ggiAqV-PxOINMO4n1YBQxoCwJfw_wcB&hotelid=336243&rffrid=sem.hcom.UK.google.003.03.02.s.kwrd%3DZzZz.s1qLLWxSs.0.47295357766.1020f4318814.d.c

That night we had a super meal at Malesherbes, in Stoofstraat where I had a duck starter then cod with pure asparagus. Margaret had a got's cheese... then we ,walked back (the wrong way!) and had a hot chocolate then to bed at 21:30.




Monday April 14th
We had a good breakfast at about 8-ish, then went to meet up at 9 for the tour that showed the highlights of Bruges. This included the Grote Mrkt, Basilica of the Holy Blood, the 'Provinciaal Hof op de Markt'



We had a hot chocolate at Sukerbuyc's cafe - called De Proverie. (That afternoon we toured Sukerbuyc - which means 'Sugarbelly' - where Roland gave an amusing tour in making the chocolates. Afterwards we had another hot chocolate across the road in their cafe - De Proverie).



We then took in the Picasso Exhibition (also had some pictures etc. from Joan Miro, Jean Cochteau, Auguste Renoir, Rene Magritte & Henri Mattise). Also went into The Church of Our Lady to see The Madonna by Michelangelo. It was rather beautiful.



We headed back towards the hotel and went into the Crowne Plaza Hotel (for free!) to see (underground) the walls of Bruges’ St. Donatian's Cathedral - a massive stone church which sat within Bruges’ Burg square and destroyed by Napoleon who had it ripped it



down in 1799. Back around 900 AD, the city built a fort to protect itself from the Vikings who were raiding the city. Not long after, this very large and central place of worship was built on top of the fort.

We then went back to the hotel, then in the afternoon we did a boat trip around the canals in central Bruges.


We enjoyed it ... though I suspect it is a very touristy thing to do.

We had an evening meal at Vivaldi - t'was OK but not brilliant.

Tuesday 15th
We had breakfast at 8-ish, then walked to the Grote Mrkt. I climbed the Belfry (the workmen were replugging the carillon. We then bought some lace butterflies then off to Sukerbuyc's cafe - De Proverie for a hot chocolate.

Afterwards we went around Groeninge Museum; (the tour was off to Yres today!) and looked at The Flemish Primitives. We also then took in a tour of the Arents House - which is also known as the Brangwyn Museum. It is a fine, late-18th-century townhouse located opposite the coach-house at the entrance to a picturesque garden near the museum (and included in the price). We had been in the garden, sitting enjoying the sun too ... we were very impressed with (Sir ) Frank William Brangwyn (RA RWS RBA!) an Anglo-Welsh artist - 1867-1956.



The Arents House or Brangwyn Museum is a fine, late-18th-century townhouse located opposite the coach-house at the entrance to a picturesque garden. We had been in the garden, sitting enjoying the sun too ...

We had lunch back at the hotel (in the room) and afterwards we went to The Burg to look at ... then the Chapel Of The Holy Blood. Not too impressed with either - we then walked to Sint Salvator Cathedral - which had a very high ceiling which we liked - it was very plain. (we had looked in at the Infirmary which was €8 to get in.

Had dinner at Pieter Pourbus

Kate Humble at The King’s Hall - October 15 2013

Reviewer: Patrick McGuckin on the chatty Kate Humble

It is always fascinating to see how professional presenters, particularly those used to live programmes, are so at ease on the stage of the King’s Hall. Like Clare Balding last year, Kate Humble finds chatting to a packed venue effortless. She really didn’t need an interviewer.

‘My root is having mud under my fingernails’ she explained as she told how she had grown up in the countryside before heading to London, living in a squat and ‘doing things that I couldn’t possibly tell my mother about, or you for that matter.’

But Kate wanted to be back in the countryside. She had married a BBC producer when she was 23. The BBC’s policy to move out to the regions gave them a chance to fulfil their dream. They sold up in London and bought a small holding in Wales as they couldn’t imagine living anywhere else.

Once they had moved into their small holding Kate at an epiphany moment as she suddenly realised that no-one is ever really a land owner. She was a caretaker, entrusted with using the land wisely until the next custodians took over. She decided to keep animals on their four acres of land. She kept hens. She described with such enthusiasm the joy of breakfasting on a ‘golden orb’ produced by a hen she had corn fed by hand. The hens were joined by ‘Roger the Cock’. Kate clearly has a wickedly mischievous sense of humour.

Having established the small holding, Humble went on to explain the path that led her and her husband to buy a 117 acre farm. ‘Lambing Live changed my life’ she said. She absorbed herself into becoming a shepherdess with a Welsh farm. At the end of the week’s programme she came home with a desire for more land and to keep sheep. Filming the programme was ‘like falling in love again’. ‘I loved the testicle tickling, of the rams’, she said.

Through her farming connections Kate and her husband found out about recently retired tenant farmers on land owned by the council. There were heartbroken that after 33 years of working the soil the council proposed to break up the farm into units to be sold off for development. Kate took on the cause and after years of argument and passion found herself the owner of the farm. They took on tenants themselves to work the land for them. They found a couple willing to take on the project; a farm that they wanted to run as environmentally as possible. The four of them wanted to encourage people to come to the farm, to run workshops, experience ‘lambing live’ encounters, learn how to hedge lay and draw people to the countryside.

Kate cries ‘at least twice a week’ due to the difficulties running the farm brings. It’s clear that her zest, her drive and her strong relationship will ensure the venture thrives. Her passion for people and animals has secured her successful TV career and will deliver the success of the farm I’m sure. She will soon be returning to our screens with a three part series on the rains of Zambia. She flies there on Friday.

To Be Or Not To Be

To be, or not to be, that is the question—
Whether 'tis Nobler in the mind to suffer
The Slings and Arrows of outrageous Fortune,
Or to take Arms against a Sea of troubles,
And by opposing end them? To die, to sleep—
No more; and by a sleep, to say we end
The Heart-ache, and the thousand Natural shocks
That Flesh is heir to? 'Tis a consummation
Devoutly to be wished. To die, to sleep,
To sleep, perchance to Dream; Aye, there's the rub,
For in that sleep of death, what dreams may come,
When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,
Must give us pause. There's the respect
That makes Calamity of so long life:
For who would bear the Whips and Scorns of time,
The Oppressor's wrong, the proud man's Contumely,
The pangs of despised Love, the Law’s delay,
The insolence of Office, and the Spurns
That patient merit of the unworthy takes,
When he himself might his Quietus make
With a bare Bodkin? Who would these Fardels bear,
To grunt and sweat under a weary life,
But that the dread of something after death,
The undiscovered Country, from whose bourn
No Traveler returns, Puzzles the will,
And makes us rather bear those ills we have,
Than fly to others that we know not of.
Thus Conscience does make Cowards of us all,
And thus the Native hue of Resolution
Is sicklied o'er, with the pale cast of Thought,
And enterprises of great pitch and moment,
With this regard their Currents turn awry,
And lose the name of Action. Soft you now,
The fair Ophelia. Nymph, in all thy Orisons
Be thou all my sins remembered.