Bruges - Temple of Beer

Mention that you’re going to Bruges and different people will think of different things.  The romantics may think of the canals of the “Venice of the North”.  Some may think of the architecture and the main square. Some may well think of delicious chocolates and waffles.  Other will think of mussels and chips with mayonnaise. 

But me?  I thought of the beers.

If Belgian beer was an art form (which it practically is) then Bruges is its Louvre, Guggenheim and Tate Modern all rolled into one.

Moving on past the main square’s cafes and heading down a narrow side street we chanced upon 't Brugs Beertje, having spotted its beer sign from a distance.  In we went to be greeted by possibly the best bar in the world.  The bar itself was surrounded by beer glasses of a fantastic variety, and the bar stocked with a ridiculous number of beers.

On the cosy little wooden table, which was set to become our base for the foreseeable future, sat what looked like a thick book or magazine but turned out to be the beer menu.  And what a delight it was, page after page of hundreds of beers of all sorts of colours and flavours.  Dark, blonde, red, golden, wheat, fruit, Trappist, Franciscan; whatever your desire the Belgian beer menu has something (or more likely many) for you.

The problem soon became apparent though; how do you choose from a menu so large filled with beers you’ve never tried before?  The answer arrived in the shape of the ever helpful barman who came up with a few recommendations to get us started.  Something tells me it wasn’t the first time he’d been asked that – a fact confirmed only moments later when the next bumbling tourists stumbled in and stared at the menu in wide-eyed amazement before asking for help.

Our beers duly arrived and were poured at our table.  Naturally each beer had its own specially shaped glass, designed to bring the best out of that particular beer which just added to the fun.  Especially when I later ordered a Kwak beer, which is served in what can only be described as a large bell-shaped test-tube held up on a wooden rack.

I committed the cardinal sin of removing the test-tube glass to drink my Kwak, neglecting the handle on the wooden rack which I should have been using to bring the entire contraption up to my lips.  A friendly local old lady took great delight in laughing at my faux pas, before coming over to point out the error of my ways.

The beer selections gradually became more random and obscure as we worked out way through the menu; the beers were all around 9 or 10% it should be said.  But no matter what we ordered it duly arrived moments later with its own special glass.  Soon enough I was well beyond my limit, and attention could turn to one of Bruges’ other delight – chips and mayonnaise!