Ghent!

Ladies and Gentleman, Ghent really deserves its hype. Perhaps this hype doesn't reach all the way to America, but whenever Belgium was mentioned someone would say, "Oh, you have to go to Ghent/Brugges. Those are the pretty cities." We didn't get to Brugges this time, but it is now on the weekend trip list (only 3 hours away!!).


In Ghent they speak Flemish which is kinda like Dutch which is kinda like some weirdly spelled mix of English and German. I was so embarrassed that I didn't learn even how to say "please/thank you/I would like" before we got there, but then when I asked someone how to say "please" it turned out to be stunningly difficult to remember, anyway.

While there, I met up with a baroque choreographer that I first met in Rothenfels in May, Sigrid T'Hooft. We had a great talk about theatricality in baroque dance, and she showed me the Beijnhofs (Beguinage). These were sort of feminist religious communes in Belgium, the Netherlands, and northern France begun in about 1100 and lasting until 4 years ago (when the last woman died). The women would live in a gated, walled enclave in the city by themselves. They dressed like nuns, had a chapel in the center of the enclave, and took a vow of chastity, but were NOT nuns. They kept their property/money instead of giving it to the Church. There were a mix of rich and poor-- the rich ones having their own houses and the poor ones living together with about 4 women per house. I have to learn more about it... Sigrid actually lives in one, and when she moved in, the last woman was still alive. She had to be interviewed, even though it wasn't the same kind of religious community anymore.


On the last day, Jeremy and I were just wandering around, taking in the sights and drinking beer. I thought I had the schedule to get to our train in Brussels all worked out, but we ended up running through town and catching the last bus to the train station (Sunday! Aaargh!). We arrived at the train station in Ghent with only 3 MINUTES to catch the train to Brussels. We didn't have tickets yet, and the train was a Thalys-- you can't buy a ticket on the train. Jeremy had sprained his knee a little last week, so I left him on the platform and RAN to the ticket booth at the OTHER END of the train station. Luckily there wasn't a line, I bought the ticket, and RAN back to the platform. The train was sitting there, and Jeremy and I rushed on board with 30 seconds to spare. YES!

{Jeremy's knee is feeling better now.}

If we had missed that train we would have missed our train back to Cologne, and I had to go to Switzerland the next morning at 7am... But that is a story for another blog.

Please look at the photo album because I just spent 40 minutes writing captions, and that will basically tell you the whole story of our trip, if you are interested.