Happiness Habits

Along the Langerei

From the Bonifacius bridge.

  I have eventually realised that, in this current lock-down, with its limited scope for everyday, taken-for-granted activities, I have intuitively divined a routine, I suppose one could so describe it; there is a small raft of activities from which I haul in a range of ordinary goodies, pretty well every day, to buoy up the emotional state and keep it bobbing around in a positively bracing sort of way. Oh dear, that all sounds rather hearty when my everyday state is simply calmly engrossed and entertained.

Fragile almost ethereal arbour

A pecking order has emerged; after breakfast the favoured routine now begins with an early morning walk; anything between 8.15 and 8.45 is Departure Time for what is intended to be an hour’s walk, more a wander, less a route march. I know that, without fail, wherever I go, every day, I will think how lucky I am to be locked down in Brugge. Every morning in what has admittedly been a prolonged sunny period gilding the gingerbread, I look around and wonder afresh at the beauty of the buildings and the canals. Every morning I cannot resist taking yet another photograph of a perfect reflection or of a tree tumbling into a bright Spring green foliage or of a vista so artfully pre-arranged for me.

According to Professor Laurie Santos, professor of psychology at Yale, (a recent acquaintance, as it were) gratitude consistently comes top of the list of what makes humans truly happy. She suggests that it is not circumstances which make us content, but, that provided basic needs of shelter, food and warmth are met, we can thrive in whatever situation we find ourselves in. I realise now that my reaction to being physically separate from others from necessity, has pushed me to devise a way of living which satisfies me enough to allow me to

Professor Laurie Santos's course, The Science of Well-Being

promotes the idea of post-traumatic growth.

welcome every day and every part of that day. So I savour the coffee I make when my wandering is over and currently enjoy the sun which permits me to sit and luxuriate on my terrace as I drink it and read my latest book.

Books by, on or about Jane Austen, awaiting a new owner.

A beacon in the Corona limbo

During each day, I love the other regular tasks/habits/routines I am choosing. Such brief fun from What’s App's silly family remarks, photos and videos; Facetime, often with family and Zoom with a group of girl friends who normally meet up each week for coffee; great videos online from friends, two of whom, in particular, are amazing in their abilities to find wonderful entertainment from somewhere; writing and receiving e-mails and then there is the Tidying of The Book Shelves. This last deserves amplification! I have a number of bookshelves and I thought, after five years of residence here, it might be time for a Spring clean. It is unbelievable how long it is taking me and how much pleasure I am deriving from what was supposed to be a boring and mundane job. I have to dust, then open each book, check the signature and date acquired, then a supposed quick rifle through the pages. I have located quite a number of volumes with strong personal connections attached to them, which I feel strongly I want to hand on to one or other of my children. So I am making small piles of volumes, carefully labelled and hope they can be collected post-Corona. In the general melee to clear my apartment after I go to The Great Classroom in The Sky, I can imagine my precious books, chiefly hurled into boxes destined for a charity shop; no one will have the time, or perhaps, inclination to look carefully through the piles. As part of this book drive I have also assembled a shelf and a half of books by, on or about Jane Austen which I want to pass on to some interested student and I have started a correspondence to bring that about. Looking hopeful!

Hilary Mantel, as pictured in the New Statesman

All of these little activities, plus pottering on my terrace and reading, as in Reading, feel psychologically nutritious, to use a Santos expression! I love The Times on a Saturday and The New York Times at the weekend; some stunning journalism there. And of course, the books. Have just finished the Blessed Hilary's The Mirror and The Light, a tome weighty enough to be a headstone but crammed with unbelievable flair and elegance of character, plot, expression. 

And, having re-read the above, I detect a certain regrettable smugness. I know I am lucky and can't bear the stories of increased domestic violence and in-family deaths as well as the huge difficulties faced by hungry and impoverished millions.  The worst thing I can imagine for my sisters and me, when children, is to have been locked down with my father. Professor Santos's theory might be a bit thin there, specifically, though definitely true in 99% of situations otherwise.

Lockdown; Covid Domestic Violence Increases.

Early one morning ....

……. just as the sun was rising, ….

I am writing soon after staggering home from a one and a half hour walk, down Smedenstraat and then right along the Buiten Smedenvest. That last stretch is fast becoming a favourite part of Brugge for me, a town which already has a surfeit of beauty but which, particularly now, has the relatively short walk between the Poort and the main E40 enhanced, be-floralled, Spring made visible, in its abundant blossom and, this morning, burnished even more by a wonderful concert from a lone persistent blackbird.

As I left Smedenpoort behind me walking beneath trees, through early morning shadows and looking down on the canal, I noticed another solitary, elderly woman ahead, doing her bit to keep healthy, separate and entertained. We are all doggedly conforming to the official advice! I read an interesting article by a virologist in the weekend New York Times, explaining that Covid19 has no warlike purpose to take over the world, no sinister intention to kill and harm, no aim to make war by other means. No. It is a virus with the sole purpose of replicating itself. And the chief purpose of humans is to prevent that as efficiently as possible. An objective met with varying degrees of skill and transparency by the world’s politicians over the last weeks.

                                                                                A blackbird is definitely visible in this

                                                                      photo on my Ipad!!

But back to my morning wandering. It was the unexpected sight of floral profusion that moved me today and then, beneath a burgeoning canopy of young green foliage above me, to hear a prolonged chorus from a blackbird, was heavenly. And as I stood listening, I ruminated on the unexpected positives of an enforced retreat from normal life. True, I am alone around 95% of the week at present and cannot do several things, activities which I enjoy normally. Presently, my only high-spots are an occasional visit to the supermarket; my daily walk; the weekly trip to the restaurant re-purposed as a super take-away and weekly visit to the newspaper shop. But this enforced physical isolation seems to be compensating me [and others] with a heightened ability to notice and enjoy these smaller facets of life, like sunshine and shadows, often previously overlooked, and now offering such pleasure.  We are appreciating beauty in the every-day background of life.

"And all the chestnut spires are out ...."

A post-script to my title which sprang, unbidden, to mind, no doubt, left there from repeated singing in the primary school! Early One Morning is an English folk-song with lyrics found in publications as early as 1787. A broadside ballad sheet in the Bodleian Library, Oxford, dated between 1828 and 1829 has the title, The Lamenting Maid and refers to the lover leaving to become a sailor. It was first printed by William Chappell in National English Airs, c 1855-9. Chappell wrote that the melody might be derived from an earlier song, The Forsaken Lover. He wrote in his later, Popular Music of Olden Time:

“If I were required to name three of the most popular songs among the servant-maids of the present generation, I should say, from my own experience, that they are Cupid's Garden, I sow'd the seeds of love, and Early one morning. I have heard Early one morning sung by servants who came from Leeds, from Hereford and from Devonshire, and by others from parts nearer to London. The tune... was, I believe first printed in my collection.... from one of the penny song-books collected by Ritson, and it is curious that scarcely any two copies agree beyond the second line, although the subject is always the same- a damsel's distress at losing her love."

Scullery maid. 19th. century,

Guiseppe Maria Crespi.

Scullery maid, 

Jean-Baptiste Simeon Chardin

1738.

Mediaeval Cranes

 Looks like a possible nest to the left!

I was doing what has become my daily hour’s wandering around the Egg, chiefly along the wonderful, ever-changing canals, when I spotted a couple of swans nearby, off the road and safely behind a fence. I wandered across to take a photograph, wondering about a possible nesting, and then noticed the familiar replica mediaeval crane at the side. [Towards the end of Wulpenstraat.] I have long idly intended to discover more about this crane and mediaeval cranes in general, et voila, here we are, nudged by the swans with time and opportunity afforded by the lock-down.

 Single, early mediaeval crane
working on a roof.

The correct name apparently, is a tread-wheel crane [magna rota] defined as a wooden, human-powered hoisting and lowering device. Used in Roman times originally but after the demise of the Western Roman Empire, the technology fell into disuse only reappearing in France in about 1225, followed by an illuminated depiction in a manuscript, possibly of French origin, dating to 1240. The earliest documentation of cranes in use in navigation are those in Utrecht in 1244, Antwerp in 1263, Brugge in 1288 and Hamburg in 1291.The treadmill was first recorded in England considerably later in 1331.

Mediaeval windlass, still in situ
in roof of Salisbury Cathedral.

 Crane in Brugge
Miniature painting, 1510.
Simon Bening.

The exact process by which the tread-wheel crane was re-introduced in mediaeval times, is not recorded although its appearance on mediaeval building sites is almost certainly linked to the emergence and development of Gothic architecture. Generally, vertical transport was easier and cheaper by cranes than traditional manual methods and typical areas of use were in harbours, mines and, pivotally, in the construction of the towering Gothic cathedrals. However, the traditional tools such as ladders, hods and handbarrows continued alongside the cranes. The process of the re-introduction of the magna rota may have resulted from the technological development of the windlass which has a close structural and mechanical affinity to the crane. Similarly the early crane shared many structural similarities with waterwheels and their labour-saving qualities were probably translated to the idea of a huge crane to lift heavy goods.

Jan van Eyewerve 1551
Painted by Pourbus on occasion
of Eyewerve's marriage to

Jacquemyne Bunck

In Brugge, from the end of the 12th century, the centre of commercial activity was located around the Kraanplein and the Spiegelrei. A huge wooden crane was situated near the Kraanplein from 1290 before which it had been located on the Markt.when the construction of the Waterhalle necessitated its removal. Indeed, the name, Kraanplein, came from the installation of this enormous wooden equipment. It was mounted on a revolving post, like a windmill, and the crane's pulleys were worked by means of two large treadmills operated by children. One can only wonder, horrified at their grim existence. Unbelievably, this monumental crane, installed in 1290 was not dismantled until 1767. During these five hundred years, the Bruggean crane had impressed visitors and was taken as a sign of Brugge's incredible economic success. 

The Eyewerve house
overlooked the Kraanplein.
The crane, important to the
wealth of a merchant,
is pictured in his portrait. 

The Kraanrei grew increasingly crowded by 1787 and Sint Jansbrug was demolished to allow the development of Academieplaats, renamed Jan van Eyckplein in 1844. Between 1793 and 1795 the road up to the Kraanplein was arched and the Kraanbrug demolished, though part of it is preserved underground.

 One can easily see why the splendid
reconstruction was moved from Jan van Eyckplein!

 The replica mediaeval crane, made by students
of the Bruges' V.T.I. in 2002, originally placed in
Jan van Eyckplein and later moved to
Wulpenstraat near Sasplein.

Quiet Corners .....Empty Spaces.

Astridpark en fleur.

Seagulls practising social distancing.

A 'poached' photograph.

Deserted Groenerei,

early one morning ….

Solitary swan at breakfast along the Augustijnenrei.

A barge named for my sister, along the Coupure!

Almond Blossom by Van Gogh.

Ithink I will gather some of the photographs  taken during my daily hour-long walks to try to convey the slightly surreal reality that is the current Corona Brugge. I have come to prefer the really early morning wanderings during the past month, probably chiefly because of the eight o’clock morning sun and the even sparser numbers of dog walkers, joggers, cyclist and elderly health freaks like Yours Truly. But there are warnings of a drastic drop in temperature in two days’ time which will almost certainly defer my present attempts to find large pots, needed to transplant up little trees on my terrace, and a bag of compost or three in preparation for the Grande Liberation when the plant market on Wednesdays and Saturdays is again allowed to function. I frequently mutter to myself that there is virtually no difference in Risk between controlled supermarket shopping with the essential social distancing, and the same measures with plants and flowers in an open air market. The latter seems less risky indeed and if re-instated, could start to mitigate against the income-less plight of growers and the plant-less anxiety of terrace- and garden-holders.

Looking up to early shoots, near the Gentpoort.

SO reminiscent of Van Gogh's Almond Blossom.

From my window.

There is an aesthetic feast to be enjoyed, courtesy of this imposed lock-down. Social distancing and self-isolation have many compensations!

Jan van Eyckplein Part 2. Het Tolhuis.

Jan van Eyckplein c 1900.

Looking towards the Spiegelrei.

Opposite the Poortersloge, on Academiestraat, stands the historic Tolhuis, in Jan van Eyckplein.. Originally part of a larger merchant’s house, built in the 1200s, it does, in fact, comprise several parts: the corner house, Het Heilig Graf; Het Pijnderhuisje, the actual Tolhuis and Het Wezelkin.

The Tolhuis itself is the part fronted by the natural stone gable. The original merchant’s house was situated, for obvious commercial advantage, in a developing trading centre in the growing port. Ships entered Brugge via the Langerei and the Spiegelrei so, for traders, it offered the ideal spot for building homes with ample storage facilities. The office of the Tol, the Grote Tol, was housed there from the beginning of the fourteenth century. This toll booth was where an import tax, the Grote Tol, was collected on all goods arriving in Bruges from the region or from international sources. There was also a Kleine Tol, levied at the city gates, on local trade. The amount to pay for the Grote Tol was calculated by weight and thus a toll house always included a weigh house.

Jan van Luxemburg, c 1400.

Napoleon in Brugge.

The first mention of the Tolhuis in surviving accounts, is between 1302 and 1305. It would be then that the original merchant’s house was drastically adapted to suit its new purpose. Het Grote Tol was a royal tax often awarded to a private person, generally highborn like an aristocrat or a prince, as a significant concession for services rendered to the king. Records show that the concession passed, through marriage, to the Van Luxemburg family soon after 1400. In 1549, Charles V permitted the holders of that concession to sell it to the city of Brugge and from then the building was referred to as the Office of the Master of Het Tolhuis. In the modernisation and changes during the Napoleonic occupation between 1794 and 1814 the Grote Tol was abolished and customs duty instituted, with the Tolhuis subsequently occupied by the family of the recipient of those customs duties. The weighing house downstairs remained publicly owned for some time though the main building itself was privately owned. During the nineteenth century the Tolhuis was still known popularly as the Balance de Bruges or the Poids Publique.

Original drawing by architect 

Louis Delacenserie.

In 1876, the City authorities bought back the building to house the Bruges Library and the City architect, Louis
Delacenserie restored the facade and reconstructed the building housing the staircase. In 1889 the ground floor was converted to a fire station. A century later in 1995, the Provincial authorities bought the entire complex, protected as a monument since 1962. Following another thorough restoration and re-design, a number of services were housed there from 2001: the Provincial Library and Archives; the Provincial Information Centre and a Europe Information Point.

Corona Update

Absolutely nothing to report!! Belgium seems to be dealing well with the crisis and lock-down continues, gilded, it must be said, by increasingly warm sun. My walk from 8.30 this morning was the very Heaven. Almost deserted everywhere, I was surrounded with picture-perfect reflections in canals touched early by

Seagulls practising social distancing.

Madonna and Child,

near Beguinage,

one of hundreds in Brugge.

the sunlight; mediaeval buildings standing proud but chiefly unnoticed, certainly by me until this lock-down provided me with the opportunity and perspicacity to notice the gables, the windows, the pale pink bricks and niches filled with statues to Our Lady. This enforced alone-ness is actually bringing me huge favours of time and opportunity to see, really see, the stunning beauties of Brugge.

A.B.C,

A.B.C.

Authentic Brugge Coronareport.

Jan van Eyckplein.

A view of the Coupure.

Walking along the Coupure this morning in the sun and enjoying the world as normal, almost, I was

delighted to come across a little mass of violets among the grass on one stretch, having marvelled two days ago at the sight of a little corner of blue hyacinths planted around a curve. These weren’t specifically there to cheer the solitary passer-by under lock-down but simply evidence of an inspired decision by some gardener of the Commune. Whatever! They gladdened the spirit already warmed by the sun and the glint of sky on water.

Hyacinths, to enchant.

Another touch of community-minded actions were to be seen in several notes attached to dustbin bags along Carmersstraat saying in various ways, Dank U to the men who collect the bags. And there are quite a number of white cloths from a recent demonstration of support, still suspended from upstairs windows, as a token of appreciation for health workers in the town. On a personal level I receive a call each day [reduced now from TWO a day] from a young man in my building to check that I am OK and asking if I need anything. One of my friends from the Thursday evening English-speaking club phoned me yesterday afternoon; she told me to go on my terrace [four levels up!] and wave to her as she stood on the corner of the square. We had quite a conversation, via the mobile, in full view of each other. To finish, she took a photograph of me to circulate around the other group members. It was a lovely moment or two for me in what is a solitary life in many ways, at present, though happy enough it must be said.

A recent sunset, seen from my window.

Extended periods of alone-ness increase appreciation 

of natural beauty.

It is quite extraordinary that something about the spirit abroad here and in the UK reminds me strongly of the wartime years [WW2] It is, of course, quite different but I think it is the heightened experience of Being Together in an overwhelmingly strange and dangerous situation, where the similarity of feeling occurs. Certainly, contemporary society is much more highly individualised and individually self-centred than it was in the 1940s but there is also, currently taking place, a rolling wave of concern towards others around us from we fellow travellers. Let us hope at least that some of that communal vigilance remains afterwards as countries, populations, civic societies struggle to cope and connect and construct. As I am awash with alliteration, I should mention ‘capitalism’. Will this Coronavirus change capitalism in some way? Will the constant economic growth which is the essential fuel for capitalism be seriously threatened? Where is Picketty when we need him?!!

Reflections, indeed.

Tolhuis, Jan van Eyckplein.

And now for something completely different. Reflections, in fact. With the extra time and space available now, I stood recently in the nearby Jan van Eyckplein contemplating the built landscape and marvelling anew. Last year around 8 million tourists visited Brugge many of whom undoubtedly finished up in Jan van Eyckplein for a look, a beer and perhaps a meal, but now the, Bruggean silence and emptiness are palpable and delightful to residents though unaffordable for long. This district was a hub of international trade at the turn of the 14^th and 15^th centuries; ships were loaded and unloaded here while, from the tower, merchants could watch their ships arriving. Goods were cleared and checked with customs duties paid, in the Toll House opposite and merchants from around the world formed international clubs in the vicinity which provided accommodation for them and storage for their cargo on the inward or outward journey
.

Poortersloge, Jan van Eyckplein.

The most important building in the square is the Poortersloge which was built by order of the then commercial elite, the Porters of Brugge between 1394 and 1487, who received their trading partners there. It was intended as an important meeting place for the burghers of Brugge and used also by the exclusive club, The White Bear, which organised tournaments and jousts there. The facade of the building houses statues of eminent mediaeval citizens, aldermen, famous masons, painters, mayors of the city, treasury officials, notaries, priests. The legendary first citizen of Brugge, the White Bear, was placed in his niche in 1417, though, as nothing lasts forever, all of the statues were replaced in the 19^th century by sculptors Michael Dhondt, Jules Anthone and Franz Vermeylen.

Het Witte Beer.

Originally in place in 1417.

The list of activities and users of the venerable Poortersloge over the centuries, is fascinating. After the reign of the Company of the White Bear passed, it was transformed into a fencing hall; then used by the Rhetoricians of the Holy Ghost. From 1719 to 1890 the distinguished Academy of Painting and Drawing graced the premises and gave its name to the street outside, Academiestraat. From this Academy is marked the beginning of the city’s important collection of art. Eventually, the Chamber of Commerce took over the use of the building. In fact, the original building was lost to fire on 30 January 1755 but was relatively quickly rebuilt. The premises were restored between 1899 and 1903 when an early nineteenth century annexe was removed; it was then used by the State Archives from 1910 for around a century when purpose-built accommodation was provided elsewhere for the overcrowded archival collection. Six hundred years after its construction, it has been decided to house modern art exhibitions in the Poortersloge after tentative plans were scrapped for a Maritime Museum in this venerable building.

Coronavirus; Thoughts Thereon

UK

17 year old homeless boy.

Shelter, the homeless support organisation estimates that the number of people sleeping rough on the streets, has risen 165% since 2010. That year marks the transition from centre-left Labour to centre-right Conservatives, in power. The huge financial shock in 2008 prompted the Tories to embark on policies that radically cut State spending. Austerity became the over-arching message and practice.

The national books needed to balance and billions of pounds were taken from the Social Security system. Over the past ten years or so, the Social Security system has been so severely compromised that it is unable to give anything like the necessary level of financial support to those in severe need. Local authorities have received significant funding reductions from central Government and the inevitable result has been an exponential increase in homelessness and food bank usage all, apparently, without raising significant protest from the wider population. And now, the pandemic is attacking the already-inadequate safety nets. Panic-buying is leaving supermarkets to limit what people may buy, and to have less surplus food to donate, and thus their generosity towards food banks is reduced. But many poorest families now rely on food banks for their daily bread.

Rishi Sunak

In the meantime, while the rest of us walk two metres apart and self-isolate, these measures are not available to the homeless crammed into temporary shelters with inadequate, shared washing and sleeping facilities. And that’s if they are lucky. Without even temporary night shelters, the truly homeless are isolated while exposed both to the elements and to food shortages more severe than usual. And in the daytime, deserted streets offer scant pickings for anyone begging. Homelessness, at the best of times, looks frightening but in this new Corona-period, terrifying. Has Rishi Sunak, the Chancellor, with all his splendid financial support measures for many, many sections of society, offered anything for the homeless? I ask because I do not know. In Brugge, one never sees begging; I believe that anyone who tries, is swiftly removed by the police and taken I know not where.

For people here in Brugge, life on a reduced scale goes on neventfully unless, that is, someone, somehow, picks up the virus. I walk for an hour each day and in the morning, the streets are totally deserted; in the afternoon, at least along the canals, there are plenty of solo and duo walkers, some with dogs; some with children; some with both. We all obey the two metre rule; the latest tweak to that rule being that walkers must not stop to sit or rest, presumably, unless desperate. So there was more than one reason I didn’t go to the Markt this morning to sit on one end of a bench to listen to Wim Berthelot, the town carillonneur, giving an hour’s concert, the other being the biting cold wind.

A friend rang and we agreed that we were pretty happy all told because we are lucky with nice flats and plenty to do in the house, that plus the joys of Facetime and reasonable health! Keeping positive and busy is the thing, we agreed. That’s rather like a rich man advising, ‘Keep on with the caviare; it helps!’

The deserted Groenerei at about 9.30 this morning [29/03/20]