Autoloze Zondag

1572 Map of Brugge by Braun & Hogenberg clearly shows

the Egg shape still intact today. Autoloze Zondag took place

chiefly within this Egg.

Car-free Sunday. I think that this started only last year when 42 cities and towns participated and I decided this year to wander round Bruges, sampling the various delights on offer. It is a marvellous idea; no cars within the Egg that is old Brugge, between 10.00 and 18.00 and instead, pedestrians, cyclists and 'events' occupy the streets and squares. A host of activities had been provided and the sun obligingly shone on happy crowds in search of the free, outdoor entertainment.

There was far too much for any one person to visit all and in any case, not all was static. True, in the Vismarkt, there was a queue for mussels and another for oysters plus the usual wait for a beer, while the large central area of the Fish Market was filled with tables and chairs for sitting, eating and drinking while a small group of musicians played. In the Burg nearby, there were lots of stalls publicising conservation, electric cycles, and ordinary bikes, plus the work of various public bodies while in the Markt, a short walk away, were many tables and chairs, all occupied, in answer to the open invitation of the Burgemeester to tourists, to picnic there. Despite the grumbling about this from restaurant and cafe owners, all the bars and bistros were full, with diners [and passing pedestrians] listening to the live music from a small stage in the middle of the Markt while the attraction of a young woman singer dressed in an impossibly long skirt, drew crowds of toddlers to sit on the huge circle of her train.

All these attractions were relatively fixed, but in addition, there were penny farthings rolling majestically up Vlamingstraat, a six piece Scottish bagpipe group, no doubt all Belgians, [there being a local Scottish Society here of men who dress authentically and enthusiastically in the kilt and sporran etc]. There was another uniformed marching band, and music could be heard from Sint Jakobstraat where a Cultuurmarkt was in progress in several different locations in the one street. I happened upon Egyptian belly dancers in authentic costume in Jan Van Eyckplein nearby while there was dancing for older people in front of the Stadtheater in Vlamingstraat; Argentine tango in Simon Stevinplein; Salsa in Guido Gezelleplein; fencing in Kruispoort; lace-making in Jerusalemkerk; street parties in several different neighbourhoods; cycle rides from 't Zand; a nature ramble in Baliestraat. In twelve different parks and open spaces, there were children's activities like swings, go-karting, picnicking, interactive workshops while around the Cafe Vlissinghe [500 years old and still open!] were opportunities to play old-fashioned games like wooden skittles etc. In a crowded Hoogstraat and Langestraat, was a long, long line of stalls in a Rommelmarkt [a flea market, always popular!] with music blaring and

much good-tempered haggling in process. I watched a young South Korean man tentatively pricing several 1940's items for sale with his eye clearly on the 1950/60s telephone but without quite enough courage to barter!

The illustrated publicity booklet [delivered to each letter box in the centre of the city] described four different guided cycle rides, from 25 to 75 kilometres and six guided walks from 6 to 25 kms so reasonably healthy people plus keen sporty types were all catered for. It was a remarkable example of enlightened thinking behind the project and extraordinary imagination and planning in the realisation of the day's activities. I was impressed, though exhausted, despite the modest scope of my sampling. I subsequently discovered that on September 22^nd, World Car-Free Day was happening so I suppose Autoloze Zondag here was an early part of that.
 

 Egyptian belly dancers in Jan Van Eyckplein

The Delights of Open Monumentdag

As last week's blog was colonised by Charles 11 and the Grenadier Guards, I forbore then to mention the chief delight of that weekend which was the Open Monumentdag which gives the ordinary residents the chance of seeing behind the scenes in various properties and places normally not open to the public.

View of the servants' chapel from Onze Lieve Vrouw

I chose a follow-up visit to the renovations in the Onze Lieve Vrouw, the leading church of the city as I had visited them last year. This second phase was perhaps less dramatic but, as our guide pointed out several times, it was exclusive! Particularly impressive for me was a huge false wall behind which the current renovations were taking place. Even down to the lovely bank of seating, it was all cosmetic and designed to offer safety and comfort, in style, to the stream of tourists thronging to see the fabled Michelangelo Madonna and Child. The other impressive feature at OLV which delighted, was the tiny secret chapel, originally for the servants of the family from the Gruuthuse. There was a door and a flight of steps leading down to this chapel from above where the family itself prayed. The servants' chapel, with one door situated at least a metre above ground level, had been hidden for centuries behind a wall. A little treasure.



 Lodewijk van Gruuthuse 1422-92

 View from the kapel into OLV
 

The following day, I went to see the final phase of renovations in the neighbouring Gruuthuse which is scheduled to reopen next year after five years' closure. Again, the effects were beautiful but less dramatic than last year and I was disappointed not to see the gorgeous, partially restored tiled pavement, depicted in online publicity. I shall see it next year no doubt! The most exciting for me, this year, was the bidkapel, unrestored and unloved. This is the focus for a new crowd-funding project just beginning and was the private chapel of the Gruuthuse family whose servants descended the rough stone stairs to the little hidden chapel in OLV. The large end window in the bidkapel, looks down and over, into Onze Lieve Vrouw adjoining; thus the family need not venture into the cold or among the common herd each Sunday in order to pray.

Plus est en vous

The Lords of the Gruuthuse were Van Brugghe van de Aa, with Lodewijk, diplomat, courtier and art lover, the most famous member. The family name, Gruut, came from gruut, [barley; wheat] an essential element in beer-making before the introduction of hops in the fourteenth century. The fortunate Gruuthuse family held the monopoly for beer-making  in Flanders and the Gruuthuse Hof is testament to their wealth. The motto of Lodewijk, Plus est en Vous [there is more in you] is emblazoned prominently within the house. Among the many honours and titles conferred on Lodewijk during his distinguished career, were Knight of the Order of the Golden Fleece and also the hereditary title of Earl of Winchelsea, an exceptional honour for a non-English person.

The outstanding visit however, was for me to the Huis Coudebrouc in Cordoeaniersstraat. One of the oldest houses remaining in Brugge, from the 13^th century, it lies in the heart of the mediaeval city, in front of the canal then connecting Jan Van Eyckplein and its harbour to the now departed Waterhalle in the Markt. Ships en route to the heart of Brugge would unload goods at the Huis Coudebrouc to be relayed through the enormous fan vaulted cellars to exit into Cordoeaniersstraat and eventual sale. The street itself is named after the leather workers from Cordoba who lived and worked there for centuries.

 Coudebrouc 16th century plaque

The name of the house is perhaps a derivation from Ic hou de Brouck and comes from a folk tale about the house when the daughters of the owner supposedly stole the trousers of a strange guest who was subsequently revealed to be the Devil. There is a 16^th century stone plaque on the facade of the house depicting the naughty sisters holding the trousers. However, that little fable may be a post hoc suggestion/ rationalisation/fantasy about the house already named Coudebrouc many years before.



 View of part of the huge mediaeval cellars

I loved the cathedral-like cellars, and the small niche on one wall the purpose of which was to mark the ownership of that wall and by implication, of the house. On the first floor there is a huge arch which announces a certain grandeur about the original building, obviously important in mediaeval times, and which will make a splendid feature in the subsequent transformation. The walls and cellars are thirteenth century but within the building, the renovations will tell the latest part of the long history of the Huis Coudebrouc.

 

 13th century arch in restoration in Huis Coudebrouc

Post Script

 

The advertised plans for Huis Coudebrouc include student rooms on the top floor and, as I  have noticed several times similar plans on other renovations on old houses in Brugge, I am wondering if the term, 'student rooms' is a necessary buzz word to help gain planning permission for the renovation to proceed. A cynical thought perhaps?

 



The Flemings are the most honest and true-hearted race of people ...

Things To Irritate, Part 1. The Grenadier Guards were here and the Life Guards, parading on two consecutive days, through the streets of Brugge, and I didn't know. Indeed, none of the English whom I know, was aware of this visit which is a pain as I would have loved to have seen them. One of my brothers was in the Grenadier Guards during WW2 and for a period, he was guarding Windsor Castle where he formed the opinion that Princess Margaret, a young girl at the time, was a bit of a madam! Ooh, this privileged information!

 

Queen Mathilde of Belgium and Queen Elizabeth of Britain. Charles, son of Charles 1, fled to Europe in 1646 and resided in France, Cologne and Holland before settling in Brugge from April 22^nd 1656 until 15^th March 1659 when he left for Brussels. The eventual Charles 11 and his court briefly resided at the Hof Van Watervliet in the Oude Burg, finally taking up residence at the Zeven Torens, which is now the Grand Hotel Casselbergh in Hoogstraat. During his stay here, Charles founded both the Grenadier Guards in 1656 and the Life Guards in 1659, as bodyguards.

The Grenadiers only assumed that name in 1815 after their glorious defeat of the Grenadiers of the French Imperial Guard at the Battle of Waterloo. Then the title The First or Grenadier Regiment of Foot Guards was granted together with the privilege  of wearing the Bearskin Cap.

While living in Bruges, the royal company was persuaded to enrol in selected areas of local society life, then centred around the Archers' Guilds, and Charles with his brothers James, Duke of York and Henry, Duke of Gloucester, with him in exile, became members of the Guilds of St Barbara, of Saint Georges and St Sebastiaan.  Over September 2^nd and 3^rd this year, a splendid sculptured stone plaque was unveiled by Princess Astrid of Belgium, on the facade of the Grand Hotel Casselbergh, Charles's pied a terre during his much-loved Bruges years. This commemorates the historic existence of the Guilds, the seventeenth century British royal connection with Bruges and includes the foundation of these two historic British regiments.


The commemorative plaque, newly unveiled, from which I learned
that Charles had written in 1662," The Flemings are the most honest and
true-hearted race of people I have ever met with."
I was also amused to read the building described as the Royal Palace of England
Scotland and Ireland when King Charles 11 held Court here from 1656 until 1659.

 

 

 



Art in many forms ....

One of those weeks that slipped past without my noticing its speed! A bit like Life really. A whole week since, I went to a super luncheon and auction, a money-raising venture every two years, to support a Nepalese school. There is obviously a committee of Belgians who work hard to mount this event each year, with the auction, one of paintings chiefly, all donated by the artists concerned. This year, there was added urgency as the school, together with most of the village, has been destroyed in a recent earthquake.

So I assembled with artistically-inclined members of the Bruggean Great and Good to enjoy what was the most leisurely meal I have ever encountered! The house and grounds, ['garden' wouldn't quite fit the bill] was near Sijsele and both were stunning, the pictures being displayed in a large salon and the lunch itself taking place on the large area of grass between house and enormous man-made lake. It was idyllic, including the weather, and I managed to find lovely people to talk to who, despite protestations, could speak English. [I secretly felt the usual language-envy!]The meal itself was super and the auction, several sunny hours later, such fun. In view of Brexit and my current poverty, I wasn't buying but I had seen a couple of paintings that I liked and when the first of these came up and there was no bid, resistance wasn't possible. Annoyingly, my bid inspired a couple nearby to join in but they soon dropped out, to my delight. I later met the artist, a psychotherapist who uses art therapy with his patients and has been painting himself for only four years. He was passionate about his art too. Interestingly, the second painting that I liked but couldn't afford to bid for, was bought by the unsuccessful couple in the bid for my picture, which was very pleasing. We obviously had similar tastes.
 

Two other events made my week; a lunch with the lovely patient lady who now comes once a week to make me try to speak Dutch. It was delightful; I have noticed that the Belgians, rather like the Dutch, do not easily invite a new acquaintance into their homes. They prefer to wait a little longer!So I was thrilled, even though it meant some hours of my stumbling on in hesitant, elementary Dutch. I won't say Flemish; that is a patois quite beyond my intellectual capacity I think!! But it was another, quite different, sunny lunch filled with good food and interesting conversation. It is the light-filled halo that these occasions leave in the memory that are so nourishing.

Thursday morning to a friend's house to join a little group trying to learn Mah Jong, the inspired suggestion of a Mah Jong-mad Chinese girl, a member of the English-speaking group that meets each Wednesday morning for coffee and chat in Hotel Martin's. We were two beginners with two others playing for the third time; all controlled by the indefatigable enthusiast who is beautiful, charming and a tyrant. I had never seen Mah Jong properly though when I stayed with a family in Beijing for two months in 2009, I loved seeing little groups of men on tiny stools, playing on the pavements or in the gutters; always absorbed and enthralled, with many onlookers often, crowding round with advice and encouragement. I shall simply, here, enumerate the Mah Jong tiles and details, copied from a photocopy of a book I must buy. There are 108 suit tiles, 16 wind tiles, 12 dragon tiles, 4 flower tiles and 4 season tiles, a total of 144. The set is divided into three categories\:

1. Suit tiles – bamboo, circles and characters.

2. Honour tiles – wind, dragons and the 1 and 9 of each suit.

3. Flower and Season tiles – these play no active part in the game but do affect the final score.
 

Enough; already I have learned something I hadn't picked up at the actual session! It is incredibly difficult to encounter Mah Jong at first and one hopes things will become clearer. All I can say, is that the two hours passed so quickly and we had such fun, which was in spite of the constant feeling of seeing through a glass, darkly, as Our Dear Leader barked instructions and encouragement!

 

To finish, a complaint about an errant seagull; seagulls seem to be everywhere at the moment in Brugge and I saw one online picture of a seagull somewhere stealing frozen yoghurt from a cone held in a child's hand! I regularly witness the devastation caused by seagulls on the many plastic rubbish bags, many no doubt liberally filled with empty mussel shells, put out by restaurants, as I walk to my early swim. My bete noire, or perhaps bete blanche, lands at some time unseen, on a wide, gravel-topped plant pot on my terrace and has a refreshing thrash around, displacing gravel and earth over a wide area of the decking. Sweeping up is laborious and fruitless. It is the sort of thing a cat might do but at third floor level, a wandering feline is less likely. BAN all seagulls say I. I dream of a pellet gun and steady aim. 

 

 A photograph of a little girl with flowers, to conclude on a more harmonious note.

I

 I noticed this girl, at the ready to present a bouquet to the
hostess of the Nepal lunch. She is SO similar to a younger
version of my fifteen year old grand-daughter.



Frank Brangwyn

I have noticed, in the last several of my blogs an alarming tendency to didactics. It recalls the old saying, 'You can take the girl out of teaching, but you can't take teaching out of the girl.' Really, just because I do love historical facts about the background of processions, the history of buildings etc, can it be acceptable to foist this on others? Discuss! Obviously, I am aware of this but even so there is a 'royalty of inward happiness' when I do discover the history of a place and even more when I can disgorge this interesting information for others. The quote above is from a beautiful prayer by Thomas More, a copy of which was given to me last week at the English Convent. It is short but has some arresting phrases in it; the last line talks of 'the infection of good courage', another felicitous phrase. What a multi-gifted man Thomas was! And his gifts went down the family line; witness Mother Mary Augustina More, Prioress of the English Convent in Brugge, and her brother, Thomas More [1722-95] the English Jesuits' Provincial Superior. Both were either the eighth or the ninth [according to the reference used] generation of descendants of Henry V111s ill-fated Lord Chancellor. They were, of course, the last.

What have I done this week? Saturday last to Liss

-ewege with my son and his wife, to see the sculptures exhibition at Ter Doest, around a mile outside Lissewege, [het Witte Dorp; the white village] and inside the village itself,  in the street and the enormous church. I had been once but loved the chance to see it all again and incidentally show off the enormous and wonderful Abbey barn at Ter Doest and the cathedral-like Knights Templar church in the small village to my visitors as if it were All My Own Work. Both are very important cultural structures and in impressively good condition. The Roman Catholic church in Belgium maintains its buildings in splendid shape even when they are, like the Lissewege church, in a context wholly out of proportion to their size. The barn had a major renovation about thirty years ago and retains the majestic, ancestral feel of centuries.

Portrait of Frank Brangwyn, 1931
by Joseph Simpson

To celebrate the ever-smoother walking, I decided to re-visit my joint favourite museum, the Arendtshuis, which houses the works of art given by Frank Brangwyn in 1936, to Brugge, city of his birth. Brangwyn was a polymath; a water colourist, graphic artist, illustrator, designer of furniture and carpets, erstwhile apprentice to William Morris. He donated 400 of his works to the city in return for which, Bruges conferred on Brangwyn the distinction of making him Citoyen d'Honneur de Bruges, only the third such award ever given. Parts of his prodigious output, estimated at more than 12,000 works, are in many galleries in the UK and Europe including the British Museum.



 Yoshijiro Urushibara

I re-visited the Bruges museum admiring the forceful, robust lithographs and the many dramatic paintings and one, which I had admired before, caught my eye. I loved its ethereal grace but knew immediately that it couldn't be by Brangwyn. It is by Yoshijiro Urushibara, 1888-1953, a Japanese print-maker and illustrator who worked over many years with Brangwyn, as well as with other artists. They produced 'Bruges' together in 1919 and in 1924, 'Ten Woodcuts by Yoshijiro Urushibara after Designs by Frank Brangwyn'.

Frank Brangwyn

A rather robust descent here, from the sublime art of Brangwyn and Urushibaraa to the less elevated topic of cleaning; apartment cleaning and my search to find a willing girl to do mine. Nearly 18 months ago, I entered  the massed ranks of Belgians and joined a Mutualiteit, not only for health cover, but for the services of said cleaner. First, a young man who said he wouldn't come again as there was too much work. A replacement was offered with similar terms to the first; four hours every two weeks with no negotiation over timing. I was in a Dutch class at the time specified, so this refusal placed me on the waiting list. Eventually I found a fellow student willing to earn 'black' money and she came every week until March of this year, when she stopped for family reasons. Despite robust efforts, I have found no one to replace her outside the Mutualiteit/Agency system till, out of the blue, in late July, an email from the Mutualiteit informed me that Katrien could start on August 1st. Much rejoicing, after a cleaner-free four months. Katrien was super but she had refused my offer of moving her car into the parking for this building but said she would do that next time. Result was, apparently not having paid the parking fee in the square outside, she had a fine of 30 euros. Phone call two days ago; Katrien would not be coming again. BUT a Thai girl would be here on  August 29th. Yesterday, a sad email to say she had tennis elbow and will not be fit for some weeks; earliest, mid to late September! Really, the only memento I ever wanted to bring from Wye, apart from furniture, clothes, etc, was Kim my cleaner! She is much missed.
 

The living room; can you see the dust?. 





The English Convent

Earlier this week, I went with a knowledgeable friend to visit the English Convent. I have intended to

 The image above, reversed from the original, in no way
conveys the present gloomy, indistinct state
 of this revered portrait. 

go for at least a year, but when I thought of it in 2015 I discovered that the portrait of Sir Thomas More was being renovated. As he is one of my historical heroes, I was keen to see this Hans Holbein copy brought to Bruges by Mother Mary Augustina More, an eighth generation direct descendant of the great man. She was elected Prioress in the English Convent in 1766 and presumably the portrait arrived, perhaps inherited, at some time during her education at the Convent school or after her profession there as a Canoness in 1753.

There is a long and often tumultuous history to the English Convent which began on September 14
1629, when five English nuns disembarked from a barge at Minnewater in Brydges [now Brugge]

They had come from Saint Monica's in Louvain, an English convent founded twenty years before, which now needed to expand. Bruges was chosen because of its proximity to the sea making more easily accessible a future possible return to England.
 

They soon found a home, a small house called Nazareth on Carmersstraat, a former hospice for travellers. There they established the Priory of Our Lady of Nazareth, founded, as was St Monica's in Louvain, on the religious philosophy of Windesheim. Windesheim, established as a Congregation in 1395, was an order based on the voluntary withdrawal from life to follow a life-time based on prayer, meditation and study of the Scriptures to enable a contemplative existence lived in the service of

 15th century Nun at Saint Monica's

others. The five sisters, accompanied on their original journey by Ursula Palmes, daughter of Sir George Palmes, a young girl who eventually became a member of the community, were later joined by five other sisters, also from Saint Monica's in Louvain.

Over many years, often in the midst of turbulent wars, plague and persecution, the Priory of Our Lady of Nazareth flourished, led by distinguished and far-sighted Prioresses. A boarding school for English girls was established early and new members of the Community continued to arrive until, again, space became a problem. A new architect-designed church replaced the original tiny chapel in 1739 and stands today dominating its surroundings, while its wonderful, Renaissance-style cupola, its rich Roman altar and apse, indeed, the whole octagonal structure, dazzle in
the huge interior. On the day when we visited, our guide sang to us under this same cupola to demonstrate the wonderful acoustics. I had been so impressed already by Sister Mary, our guide, an elderly, lively  nun with a mischievous sense of humour but her clear, bell-like singing, uplifting and with perfect pitch, added the final graceful touch.

She more than made up for the disappointingly dark and forbidding portrait of Sir Thomas which is one of the Convent's most prized possessions. I would love to have seen more of the building but the tour really covered only the large and handsome entrance hall and the Church. The gardens too, were not visited which was a loss. I may go again and ask if it is possible  to see the gardens which were on public view last September during the Open Monuments weekend. In the meantime, I have, at least, seen the copy of the Holbein Thomas More, owned by the last blood descendant of this historically important philosopher-writer and brought over to Bruges from England at some point during the mid-eighteenth century.

Charles 11 and his brothers, dining in Brugge
in the late 1650s.

The famous poet- priest-philosopher Guido Gezelle, who lived in Rolweg near the Convent, became Chaplain there during the last part of his life, dying in the convent in November 1899.

He is considered one of the masters of European lyric poetry and among many notable achievements, founded the Societe Archaeologique de Bruges in the 1860s and is chiefly responsible for preserving Bruges's mediaeval architecture.

Another historically famous figure, Charles 11, had his H.Q. in Brugge during his exile in the mid seventeenth century, and was offered continuing support by the Convent nuns. In his turn, after he became monarch, he proved to be a generous benefactor to the Convent and other Communities in Flanders. The English Convent is the only mediaeval religious house left in Flanders today and the original commitment to leading the contemplative life continues under the care, at present, of eight elderly sisters.

  Italianate apse and altar in the English Convent

Brugse Belofte

 

Every year, the Procession of our Lady of the Blind, Brugse Belofte, [Bruges' Promise], passes through the streets of Brugge. It honours a vow made after a battle, [one of many] between Flanders and France in 1304, the Pevelenberg, two years after the famous Battle of the Golden Spurs. To fulfil this vow, the Bruggelingen offer a votive candle to Our Lady of the Potterie Chapel, on the Potterierei, at ten o'clock on the morning of August 15. Before the ceremony, the pilgrims, dressed in authentically-reproduced historical costumes and signalling their approach to the insistent beat of

drums, slowly cross the centre of the city to Our
Lady of the Potterie for the dedication of the candle and a Mass, before processing back to the Chapel of Our Lady of the Blind in Kreupelenstraat, off the Smedenstraat. It is described as a small procession but the costumes in mediaeval style and the other accoutrements like weapons typical of the era, banners, huge cart and monumental wooden ship are impressive and colourful. I was delighted to learn, as we watched, that the blue-hooded stalwart who, as Robrecht van Bethune, Earl of Flanders [Graaf van Vlaanderen], read from a manuscript the announcement of the vow, is actually named Boudewijn van Vlaanderen in real life today. Could anything be more apt?! I only know this privileged information as he is on the same Cultural Council as two friends!

It is always impressive to consider the organisation behind these religious processions and to witness the seriousness of those taking part. As a Church annual ritual, it appeals to a wide spectrum of people from believers to mere onlookers, including  many tourist spectators. I noticed yesterday, a distinguished be-suited gentleman discreetly signalling and beckoning to the participants in the procession, for them to stop and move. It was an almost invisible direction which helped to keep the whole enterprise moving smoothly.

 I have a fondness for the Chapel of Our Lady of the Blind because some young German friends, who attend the August MA Festival each year, gave me a surprise birthday concert there for my seventy fifth birthday and another two years ago for my eightieth . So I love the place and its Baroque organ. On Tuesday last a guest, also from Germany and a teacher, Church organist and composer, gave me an impromptu concert in the Blindeken for about forty minutes. It was a wonderful Thank you gesture which I loved. Alain said how difficult it had been for him to play a Baroque organ, so different from his own in Cologne, and opened my eyes a little as a non-musician, to the extra complexities there may be in instrumental music. He is a gifted musician and organist but, nevertheless, to change instruments presented further challenges. 

I always wince at the Mediaeval, or earlier, lack of political correctness at the street name of Kreupelenstraat, Cripples' Street, in which the Chapel of the Blind finds itself. As Belgian friends don't comment, I conclude that the sometimes excessive tendency to political correctness in the UK is closer to American sensitivities than to European. However, that said, I love the historical pageant and continuity of names, festivals, processions, events in Belgium and the authentic connections and longevity they present. And the mediaeval name for the street simply reflects the societal norms of that period.

As a P.S. to the above and totally unconnected with it, must mention the lovely sights and sounds as I walked home from the MA Festival final concert last Saturday, at about 23.30. It was the annual Benenwerk [literally translated as 'Legwork'] which is a free Dance Festival at various sites and with different styles of dance. There were 13 varied styles from Disco to Burlesque to Latino, complete with live music, DJs etc, and the crowds of locals and tourists enjoying themselves around the streets and no doubt in the various chosen venues, was such fun. Pity my energy was spent but it was quite life-enhancing to see and to hear. I am seriously impressed with the number of free events which go on, especially during the summer; in August and July for instance there were lots of free concerts in the Burg, the Markt, the inner courtyard of the Belfort. All, one imagines, financed by the wealth generated by the millions of tourists who visit here. Numbers visiting have reduced this year because of the Brussels and Paris atrocities and the hope is for a gradual resumption of the normal volume. In the meantime, those who do come can enjoy the Bruges ' music and dance, together with the younger residents every August.