Brugge

The other day we flew back to Ostende with Beuford “Jim” Wallace and Tom Crook. We flew overver northern Sudan (a whole lot of nothing) and Mt. Etna.













The last time I saw Mt. Etna it looked like a roman candle. I was happy for no fireworks (flying around volcanic ash makes me nervous).

Today was Sunday and I found a church to go to in Brugge; just a 15-minute train ride and a 30-minute walk away. I joined the 25 or so branch members for the Flemish service. Everyone was very friendly and wanted to translate for me, but having a translator makes me uncomfortable. I worry about distracting the other people and it changes the whole vibe of the service. To me, Flemish sounds like a cross between old English and “low” German, so I could understand about 20% of what was said and about 40% of the context.
After church I walked around the city of Brugge. It must be beautiful in spring, but today it was cold and wet; and a romantic city isn’t very romantic when you’re by yourself. Only two more days before I get to fly again.