Of Things Mundane But Nectar Too

Oh dear; I am temporarily confined to barracks with a heavy cold on top of ten day old conjunctivitis. After around eight months of excellent health and vitality, this is a bit of a blow! However, looking around the apartment I can see that life could be worse. 

Farrow and Ball-coloured walls, lots of space, seven huge front windows with the sun streaming through; pretty sunlit terrace the other side of the glass door; a sufficient stock of Duvel and Leffe Blond, the current beer favourites, to indulge, perhaps ... But a drop in energy is not welcome. Missed a concert [Scarlatti]; drinks at someone's house on Sunday [first invitation in Brugge]; Dutch class Monday and Wednesday evenings;. While the latter is welcome in one way, I don't want to miss next steps as it were, the present ones being precarious. I still cannot understand virtually any spoken Dutch though the written is progressing. Fingers are still crossed for a visit with a girl friend to Brussels. [Aborted!]

I cannot remember if I have mentioned an annoying health development; I have had, since May, LisFranc arthritis in the left foot which has already progressed in pain volume, to causing a limp. After seeing an orthopaedic surgeon I am having nine sessions of physio which are marvellous and by UK standards, marvellously cheap. In addition I have to wear MBT shoes which, if any reader is so inclined, can be seen online; they are ugly and expensive. The  wearer has, furthermore, to learn to walk a little differently in them as the soles are curved and I shall go to Ghent to investigate. In the meantime, to an orthopaedic shop on the outskirts of Brugge where only two pairs of shoes were appropriate for my problem. Result, bought one pair for 200 euros and they are walking shoes. 

Fab for the Yorkshire Dales and the Lakes but obviously, as the only shoes suitable for me at present, they obviate about 90% on my wardrobe!! The sunny side of this scenario is that ..... my walking is strong, confident and pain-free. The photo to the left  however, underlines the aesthetic pain I continue to feel!

I was amused as I walked across the Burg the other day, to see the nth bride and groom having wedding pictures taken with a lovely backdrop in situ. I think these bridal photographs are taken, as in China, before the wedding day itself. Bride and groom get togged up and trip off with photographer to a scenic spot, of which there is a multitude in Brugge. I must check; it may be done on The Day but the relaxed approach suggests otherwise and there is never a bridal party. 

The couple I saw were soon enjoying the occasion and a small crowd gathered in time to see the groom Struggling to Pick up Bride and Pose. I was toooooo slow to catch a super shot of her hooped underskirt but did take a picture of the mutual high spirits and enjoyment of an hilarious moment.

I had the unexpected offer of a lift to Lissewege where I had wanted to look at a place selling South African wine, a bottle of which I had bought from the Cheese Market [Kaasmarkt] in August or September. It was unexpected; outside the prettiest village on a commercial estate perhaps. Met the owner by appointment and dived immediately into an extended tasting of Eerste Hoop wines, even though I stressed that I wasn't a restaurant owner. Restaurants in West Flanders form the bulk of his customers.

The owner, Lodewijk , spends around eight months of the year in South Africa and the rest in West Flanders where he has a house and restaurant in Dudzele. Amiable, generous, unpretentious, obviously brilliant at wine-making but to my amazement, with very little English. I had supposed that all South Africans spoke English almost automatically, but what the English always refer to as the Boers [not knowing the word means Farmers] obviously do not.  So the Dutch-speaking South Africans must live, to an extent, separate lives or is much of life conducted in Dutch [Afrikaans] in present-day South Africa. This is an interesting and challenging discovery and I must research further! The wines were marvellous.