To understand the title of this blog, we have to go back to the morning of our trip to Ghent. We were going via the Eurostar (change at Brussels) as there were some good deals on and we had watched Monuments Men, a film about the Ghent Altarpiece. This was our first trip abroad together so I was trying to dial back my OCD…no small task. We stayed at Pippa’s place, so when I asked her how long it would take us to walk to the train station, I believed her…how wrong I was. The answer I got was 15 minutes. The truth was closer to 25. Needless to say us jumping on the train as the doors closed meant some steely silence from me for the first 10 minutes of our journey.

Lucky for me, and our relationship, Pippa already knew me well. She got us a mini bottle of prosecco from the train trolley, and as she pours me a glass sings, rather loud ‘My baby takes the morning train’ by Sheena Easton. This led to me laughing, which instantly means forgiveness. And thank god, as it was a fantastic first holiday from there onward.

Ghent was a great choice for us because I love wandering and looking at architecture, and it has it plenty. The city centre is full of Gothic buildings on old cobbled streets. St Bravo Cathedral is impressive, as is St Nicholas Church. There are pretty bridges with riverside bars, and they bring you a snack with EVERY drink, yes Belgium. We also did a day trip to Ypres as Pippa is a big WW1 nerd and that was haunting but interesting, even for me who admits to being a little ignorant about some aspects of history and art. We discussed it all these years later and agreed, we would go back to Belgium, and most likely Ghent. Then perhaps onto Bruges, we shall see. But for a little-known gem of a city break when you’re short on days and can’t face a flight, Ghent is hard to beat.

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