transplog

Wandering an unfamiliar town, without map or guide, can bring the joy of small, random discoveries. (Or the despair of hopelessly wrong turns, but that's a post for another day.)

Brugge (Bruges, if you kow-tow to the French) is a UNESCO World Heritage site (link) cited for its outstanding quaintness. Cobblestones worn to nubs by your great-great-great-great-greats lead to market squares resplendent with Gothic spires. Inky waters slip between the streets, surfacing occasionally so that tourists may pause on the arched canal bridges: posing for that snapshot.

So wandering in Brugge is best accomplished after a few days of performing the mandatory tourist ablutions: canal tour, brewery, churches, etc.. Only then can you scrabble along the narrow alleys and happily arrive nowhere of any significance.

And then you may find the joy of a small, random discovery.

Mind the scholastic snail with tiger tattoo

If you're in a country not your own, then more amusement comes in the form of mis-translating. Meanwhile, I always mind the snails.