Review - The Trip to Bountiful

As soon as I saw the press release announcing that Cicely Tyson would be starring in Horton Foote's The Trip to Bountiful, I knew I wanted to go.  As you may recall, I adore Horton Foote plays.  The gentle way he writes about family, regret and home is just so powerful to me.  And I've been a huge fan of Cicely Tyson's for many years.  This production has gotten quite a lot of accolades, so it's taken awhile for the show to hit TDF.  It finally did and I finally got my ticket.  Last night was the big night.

 

When I arrived, I realized I haven't been to the Stephen Sondheim Theatre - the last time I was at that venue was when it was still the Henry Miller and I saw Urinetown.  So I was very interested in seeing the renovations.  Wow, the theater is really swanky!  It wasn't anything like I expected.  Well, generically swanky.  But comfortable.  The ladies' restroom is happily very large, so lots of ladies can get in and out of there quickly.  There are some cool touches with relics from the old theater scattered throughout.  I snuck one photo of old doors, but when I tried to get another photo of a cool wallhanging, I was chastized by an usher.  Oop.  But I'll post my photo anyway.  I'm such a rebel. 

The orchestra section is actually down two levels, which is interesting.  I don't remember the Henry Miller being designed like that.  My TDF seat was in the third row, off to the far left side.  There weren't any sightline difficulties, though Cicely Tyson was a tad obstructed from my view for the few first minutes.  But the stage is high enough that I had a neckache after the show was over.  Fortunately, I was so entranced throughout the show, I didn't notice then.  I did, though, notice my seat neighbor's unpleasant aroma.  Wow.  Guess it's time to get used to summer theater viewing...

I love The Trip to Bountiful.  This story where seemingly not much, but everything happens, is so touching to me.  I've seen the movie dozens of times, and seeing the Signature production a few years ago starring Lois Smith was a transcendent experience.  Seriously.  I was in the front row and I felt like I'd never been so close to such beautifully real and tender acting.  Actually, it was living.  Glorious.  And last night's performance was beautifully real and tender as well.  If not the same lived-in manner, well, that's ok.

Cicely Tyson is majestic as Carrie Watts.  In the first scene, when she's so depressed and beaten down, it's like she's 100 years old.  As the play progresses, and she gets closer and closer to her long-cherished dream of returning home, the age just falls off her.  By the end, she is radiant and shining with love and hope.  Although she wanted to see Bountiful one more time before she died, at the end of the play, you get the sense she's going to be around for a long time because she's made peace with herself.  It was beautiful.  And if this is Tyson's acting swan song, I think she's made peace with that, too.  She is just magic onstage.  I got seriously weepy during her curtain call.

Vanessa Williams was wonderful as the bossy daughter-in-law.  She got just the right combination of humor, intelligence and annoyance that makes you understand why she's such a bother to Carrie, but also why the son, Ludie, stays with her.  Well, that and the fact that she is just so goshdarned beautiful.  Cuba Gooding, Jr., as Ludie, wasn't as successful for me.  I just thought he wasn't subtle enough for a Horton Foote character.  It's all about what's underneath and NOT in the text, but Gooding was always just playing the words and not the actions or the feelings.  Plus, it seemed like he was trying to act 'young,' which was weird, so he came off oddly.  Though he did have a couple of affecting moments in the last scene, when he was telling his mother he actually did remember the past, he just chooses not to.

The rest of the cast is grand, too.  Tom Wopat is gallant and no-nonsense as the sheriff, and Arthur French makes the most out of his role as the stationmaster.  And Tony nominee Condola Rashad was luminous as Thelma, the young girl Carrie meets on the bus to Bountiful.  She was sweet and smart and loving.  A really lovely performance.  It was so moving when Carrie told her that she thought her daughters would've been just like her, if they had lived.  SO moving.  Almost everyone in the audience went 'awwwwwww.'  Actually, the audience was quite responsive throughout, though we didn't get the spontaneous sing-a-long that has been so talked about.  But I did love hearing those hymns.  They're the hymns my grandparents used to sing, and they just give me the warm fuzzies.  They add to the warm experience I always get at a Horton Foote play.  I know there are some people who find Horton Foote plays boring, because 'nothing' happens, but I disagree.  Life happens in his plays.  And seeing this particular life happen, as so beautifully rendered by Cicely Tyson (the photo at right is by Joan Marcus - I got it off the internet and will remove it if requested), is so worth your time.  Go see it. 

Thoughts on 3 Kinds of Exile

I believe I've mentioned in the past that I love the writing of John Guare.  I'm not sure that I've mentioned how fond I am of John Guare himself.  I've been fortunate enough to work with him over the years and he is just the loveliest, most generous person.  So I imagine I'm predisposed to enjoy his work.  When Atlantic Theater Company announced they'd be doing his new play, 3 Kinds of Exile, I bought a ticket as soon as they were available.

Since the show doesn't officially open for two weeks, I'll only offer a few thoughts.  As always, John Guare has written a smart, funny, thought-provoking play.  The styles seemed different than previous pieces, and it's always interesting to me when a writer tries new things.  This play is about, yes, three kinds of exile.  There are three small playlets about three artists who leave their homelands to pursue their art, but also struggle to retain their identities.  Each piece had its own rhythm and tone, and they are all based on actual events.

The first scene is a monologue, the second has two actors (John Guare is one of them!  He's a charming actor, naturally!  I borrowed this photo from the Atlantic website - the photographer is Kevin Thomas Garcia), and the third is a larger, vaudevillean-type piece about Polish novelist Witold Gombrowicz.  John Guare is writing from a personal place in this play - he's an active participant in one and was witness to the story in another.  I'm not quite sure of his connection to the third.  But I think his personal connections informs the play and gives it much of its success.

I found myself very moved by the first and second pieces, but confess that the third piece did not make itself known to me.  My brain was rebelling against the storytelling methodology, but at one point, I did feel an opening and an understanding come over me.  But that didn't happen until late in the piece and it didn't last.  Ah well.  They are still in previews, after all.  I always find stories about identity, learning (or not) from your past, and being able to live with yourself to be very interesting.  And that was definitely the case here.  Plus, after meeting some Czech artists in the late 80s, I'm always interested in that Eastern European emigre experience. 

I've been thinking about these stories since last night and am compelled to do more reserach on the subjects of each of the pieces, so there's definitely value in that, whether or not I found the play as a whole to be completely successful.  But, as I said, I never miss a John Guare play and I'm very glad I didn't miss this one.  I hope to be able to go back after it opens.  No one writes like he does and he always makes me think.  And smile.  :)

Thoughts on Somewhere Fun

Last night, I met a beautiful gal pal at the Vineyard Theatre and we took in a preview performance of Jenny Schwartz's Somewhere Fun.  Before the show started, an artistic associate did a pre-show announcement and told us they had recently put a new section into the play and it would be tried out for the first time last night, so we shouldn't be surprised if someone had to call for a line.  OK, that's what makes a preview performance exciting!  So as not to keep you in suspense, no one called for line and we couldn't tell where the new section was.  Everything felt seamless, as far as we were concerned. 

Since the show doesn't officially open until next week, and they're clearly still making changes, I'll only offer a few thoughts.  I've never seen a Jenny Schwartz play before - I missed her highly regarded God's Ear when it played at the Vineyard a few years ago.  I've heard from several friends that they found her use of language and the playing with form very interesting.  I also heard from several other friends that they found her work to be pretentious twaddle.  I'm happy to land in the 'very interesting' company.  I found Somewhere Fun to be thoroughly fascinating throughout, if a bit frustrating on occasion.

Kate Mulgrew and Kathleen Chalfant star as two women who have a chance encounter about 35 years after they first met.  That's about as concrete as the play gets.  Everything else is a surreal, fantastical journey about connection.  Or being unable to make a connection.  I found the way Schwartz connected much of her fractured dialogue, and the lives of these characters, stunningly original.  Her use of repetitive speech, along with her peppering the dialogue with text from well-known novels, was terrific.  Hearing which words were repeated at different times definitely showed you the meaning behind them.  If that even makes sense.  And the way the play wraps around itself is so intriguing.

The acting is all first-rate, with Kate Mulgrew especially amazing in her opening monologues and Kathleen Chalfant stunned me with her final speech.  Both of them are at the top of their game, truly.  I think Anne Kauffman's direction is very well done, keeping everything crystal clear, even when it isn't.  :)   And the sets and lights were also grand, along with the very fun projections. 

I definitely think this is a play worth seeing; in fact, my beautiful gal pal and I are thinking of going back to a performance that has a post-show talkback.  We'd love to hear Schwartz talk about the method behind the madness.  I will freely admit that I did find the play frustrating at times - I would feel as if there was so much talking and it wasn't leading to anything, but then...it did.  It led to something quite lovely.  There were many in the audience who didn't wait to find out; the show has two intermissions and quite a few people walked out during them.  Admittedly, this play isn't perfect, and it certainly isn't easy, but it's totally original, enjoyably theatrical, frequently dazzling and well worth your time.

And, just as a postscript, stopping at Big Daddy's Diner afterwards for mozzarella sticks and tater tots, is also an excellent idea.  You can thank me later...

ABT 2013 - Don Quixote

Monday night, I saw the third ballet in my ABT series - Don Quixote.  I've only seen this one once before, a few years ago, starring one of my uber-favorites, David Hallberg, and a then-new gal, Polina Semionova.  When the schedule came out this year, I saw that David and Polina would be pairing up again, so I changed my regular subscription ticket for their evening.  Unfortunately, David ultimately decided not to do a Don Quixote this year, so I saw Polina with new principal (and the gent I saw in my second Onegin), Cory Stearns.

Although Don Quixote has maybe a half hour of actual plot, that means there's over two hours of fantastic dancing!  There are a lot of spirited group numbers and some spectacular pas de deux for Polina and Cory.  This ballet is very light-hearted and high-spirited, both in the dancing and the acting.  I enjoyed myself very much, though I admit there were a few flaws in the evening.

Cory Stearns, while very attractive and elegant, just doesn't seem to dance with much verve.  That may have worked for the remote Onegin, but it doesn't really jive with the flirtatious Basilio.  So I did find him wanting, though there was nothing actually 'wrong' with his performance.  And he didn't seem to have much of a rapport with Polina, unfortunately.  They also seemed to struggle a couple of times with their partnering.  But maybe with some seasoning, these kinds of things will straighten out. 

Polina, once again, was spectacular.  She can hold positions, en pointe, seemingly forever!  She did one variation in the wedding pas de deux that made me exclaim out loud.  Yes, I became one of those people.  But it's like she's defying space and time, somehow.  Her leaps are gorgeous, her turns are fast and exciting, and her back and arms are beautifully supple.  I also found her acting, especially in the first scene, much improved from the last time I saw her dance Kitri.

I enjoyed Victor Barbee as the (non-dancing) Don Quixote.  I thought he was quite touching in his acting and his searching for his Dulcinea.  Julio Bragado-Young, as the foppish Gamache, was very funny and very charismatic.  James Whiteside, a new soloist at ABT this year, was wonderful as the matador, Espada.  He had verve and flair all over the place and I found myself wishing he were dancing the lead opposite Polina.  Oh well.  Hee Seo was a lovely Mercedes, but she seemed to flounder a bit as the Queen of the Dryads.  It seemed like she fell off-pointe a couple of times, unfortunately, though she did regroup quickly.  I found myself completely enchanted with Yuriko Kajiya as Amour.  She was light and quick, with soft arms and tons of charm.  I'm definitely going to keep a watch out for her the rest of the season.  She was quite a crowd favorite, as well.

 

Thankfully, my seat neighbors all behaved themselves.  The gent in front of me yelled 'bravi' after nearly everything, but that's ok.  At least there weren't a bunch of yucky know-it-all teenagers around me (oh, golly, I've turned into a 'turn down your music and get off my lawn' type of person!  yikes!).  Oh, and an update about that:  after a few people who read my blog suggested I should indeed register my complaints to ABT, I sent off an e-mail through their website.  Here is the reply I got:  "We are aware of this type of situation and make every effort to see that it does not happen."  Uh, ok.  At least they replied, I guess.  Hopefully, it won't happen again.  But all in all, I did have a good time at Don Quixote, thanks to a bit of spectacular dancing, if no fireworks from Cory.  Maybe next time!  There's lots of ballet to come this summer - hurrah!  :) 

A Theater Road Trip

Although there are several wonderful regional theaters that are easily accessible to New York, I don't often take advantage of them.  I can probably count on one hand the number of shows I've seen outside of New York (not counting productions I've seen while on vacations).  But when I read that a dear friend from college would be appearing in one of my favorite new plays of recent years, I knew I had to go.  And when a new theater friend suggested a road trip, I happily took her up on the idea. 

 

And so it was that we took the trek to Long Wharf Theatre, in New Haven, CT, to see Clybourne Park.  I've seen Clybourne Park several times, both in Chicago and on Broadway, but I was eager to see it again, especially as it featured my wonderful college friend.  The trip there is pretty painless, so I can certainly see myself traveling to New Haven again.  Metro North was comfortable and punctual, though crowded, and my new friend and I spent the two-hour ride chatting about theater and travel.  Very fun.  We did get a little worried at one point, when the conductor started following a fellow passenger around.  We heard the conductor say she would not be opening the doors to let anyone out until he paid her $3, in cash.  I wish I had gotten the beginning of that conversation!  Luckily the $3 standoff only lasted a few minutes and we got to New Haven in plenty of time to see the matinee. 

 

The Long Wharf website tells you that they are just a short cab ride away from the train station.  That is indeed true.  But I confess to getting a little unnverved when our cab pulled into, what looked like to me, an industrial parking lot.  I told my new friend that I was worried we were going to be killed (a nightmare I had once about a car service driver who didn't take me to Queens, but instead to the woods, burst into my head suddenly), but she quickly saw the theater in the little complex.  I guess I had a preconceived notion that Long Wharf Theatre was actually, I don't know, near a wharf.  Silly of me.  :) 

 

The mainstage theater is very attractive and comfortable, and Clybourne Park fits in the space beautifully.  The set, which needs to be very specific in both acts, was terrifically designed and utilized, and the acting was first-rate across the board.  As always, I found the play to be smart, funny, scary and oh so sad.  I believe I may have been moved even more than the previous times I've seen it.  The struggles these people have in expressing themselves is just so lonely and true.  And I found I heard several things afresh that I hadn't noticed before, which is always a wondeful benefit of repeat viewings of plays.

The first act, set in 1959, remains purposefully stylized and formal-ish, but in this staging, I found new ways to appreciate the stylized performances.  And once we got to the emotional core of the act, the artifice gets stripped away to the deep pain underneath.  It was really terrific.  I just saw so many more layers - maybe it's because I've seen the show several times before and I knew to look under the text.  But I just found the acting to be very rich and satisfying, and the text was beautifully illuminated by everyone.  The second act, while again hysterically funny, was also terrifyingly raw.  I was especially terrified when the seat neighbor next to me began verbalizing her assent to some of the blantantly racist statements.  I guess my seat neighbor is the reason Clybourne Park won't seem dated any time soon...

 

All in all, it was a lovely afternoon, and I think Clybourne Park keeps sneaking its way up the list of my all-time favorite contemporary plays.  Each viewing gives me something fresh to enjoy and think about, which is a treat indeed.  Plus, I got to have some quality time with a new theater friend, and I got to share a hug and her beautiful performance with an old friend.  Oh, and I got to ride a train!  I believe I've mentioned before how much I love train travel.  Though I will admit to being pretty exhausted by the time I got home - I left my apartment about 9:45am and got home close to 8pm.  I was definitely not a swinging NY single gal that night.  I was in bed by 9:30pm.  Whee!  But at least I had a great day to dream about!  :) 

 

ABT 2013 - Mixed Repertory

Last night was the second ballet in my ABT subscription series - it was an evening of three short pieces: Mark Morris' Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes, Frederick Ashton's A Month in the Country, and Balanchine's Symphony in C.  Of the three, I believe I've only seen Symphony in C before, and that was ages ago.  I was definitely excited to see these three ballets.  Bear with me, though, because this will be a loooooooooooong post...

The weather was humid, but I was happy to make it to the Met between downpours.  I got there early enough to engage in my personal pre-show routine - photos, restroom, early in seat to read program to see who's dancing.  Once I got to my seat, I noticed a group of youngsters seated in my section in the balcony.  A few were in my row.  They were rambunctious, but I thought, oh good, young people at the ballet.  That can't be a bad thing.  It turns out this was a group of students from one of the local dance schools - I can only assume they were from the Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis School, since they referred to many of the ABT dancers by first name.  But I can't be sure.  Anyway, yes, young people at the ballet CAN be a bad thing and these kids were the poster children of BAD.  They got on my bad side, quickly, by stating that my Julie should retire because she's old.  And slow.  Imagine my head exploding.  I almost missed the happiness of the beautiful chandeliers rising to the ceiling... 

I'll get back to them in a minute.  First, the wondrous dancing.  Drink to Me Only With Thine Eyes, commissed by ABT in 1988, is upbeat and good-humored.  There are wonderful stage pictures formed, with twelve dancers constantly in motion.  There are moments that are textbook classical ballet, with moments of modern whimsy.  I really enjoyed the piece.  I especially liked that there was an onstage pianist, Barbara Bilach, who played the Virgil Thomson pieces with spontaneity and verve.  I liked how the music was arranged, with a natural build in energy, then, as the ballet was coming to an end, the music got slower, dreamier, the lights dimmed, and then it ended as it began.  Really lovely.  I just wonder - why are there always white costumes?!  They're terrible in my pictures!  ;) 

 

I thought all twelve dancers were terrific and especially enjoyed Joseph Gorak (if the blogs are to be believed) in the part originally danced by Baryshnikov.  He has a lovely airy quality to his dancing - he never seems rushed or forced.  His jumps and spins were clean and crisp and very in tune with the music.  I'm definitely going to keep my eye on him.  But all of the dancers were terrific, but because I didn't use my binoculars, I couldn't really tell who was who.  If I haven't seen a piece before, I don't use my binoculars, because I like to see how the choreography fits in the space.  Once I know a piece a little better, then I'll use the binoculars to see specific details.  Yet another of my dainty quirks.  I borrowed the photo at right from ABT's Facebook page - it was taken by Gene Schiavone and will, of course, take it down if asked.  My pictures are so terrible, I wanted something pretty to make up for them.

 

At the first intermission came the first indication that I was sitting next to bad children.  They immediately started shouting about how bad the dancing was in the previous piece.  I'm sorry, what?!  They began trying to replicate the dance moves that they found particularly egregious.  And one young moron decided that Morris is a bad choreographer.  Oh, really?!!  I beg to differ, young idiot.  I wanted to say something to them so badly, but didn't.  Grrrrr.  But just imagine, if you will, a twenty-minute intermission, filled with screaming teenagers, who know so much more about dancing than anyone else, trying to tear down their elders.  I did not find them charming, or filled with youthful exuberance, or anything like that.  I found them rather repellent.  Before the second piece started, the young moron cried, "I hope the next one is better!"  God help me.  Oh, and to top off the delight that were my seat neighbors, the gal on the other side of me was snoring.  She did wake up when we applauded the conductor, which reminds me of another travesty.  When the conductor came out, the repellent children of the d*mned had the nerve to say that the conductor didn't deserve the applause, that it was an antiquated ritual, and he wasn't actually really any good. Oh. my. god.  Well, yes, all that may actually be true, but SHUT UP.  Rituals do have their purposes at times.   Now imagine the steam coming out of my ears. I had to breathe deeply to find my happy ballet place...

 

The second piece was an ABT premiere, Frederick Ashton's A Month in the Country.  The ballet has been 'freely adapted' from Turgenev's play (that's how it's described in the program).  Ashton choreographed the piece in 1976 and it has apparently been in the Royal Ballet's repertory for years, but has finally made it to ABT.  And I'm so glad it has.  It's SO lovely.  The physical design is gorgeous, and they beautifully use Chopin's music for piano and orchestra, to set up mood and tone.  The melancholy and spareness of Chopin's music matches the ballet's portrayals of love and loss.

 

David Hallberg, one of my uber-favorites, as you may recall, is Beliaev, the young tutor with whom all the female occupants of the household fall in love.  David's gorgeous line and pristine technique are on display here.  His acting is also first-rate.  You can see a man who is bewildered by all the attention given to him, but his ardor for the lady of the house takes him by surprise.  As all of these emotions happen, his dancing changes and grows.  The way he partners each of the ladies changes as well.  It's really a wonderfully danced, wonderfully acted, just wonderfully fully-realized performance.  And the heartbreaking ending crushed me.

 

Hee Seo, as the object of his affection, is also fantastic.  She's the lady of the house and is supremely bored with her life.  She's married to an older man, and has an admirer who just hangs around to be near her.  She's a woman who clearly needs to have the attention of every man in the room - when she discovers she has real feelings for this tutor, she is shocked out of her complacency.  Her dancing is also exquisite - delicate and fluid, with stunning feet and extension.  She was really lovely.  Sarah Lane, as her ward and rival, was a great contrast - all bubbly impulsiveness.  Her light quick footwork was engaging and she really expressed her youthfulness beautifully.  The other gents had much less dancing to do, but their acting was grand and the whole picture of this house was wonderfully depicted.  I just thought the whole thing was gorgeous.  Can't you tell? 

 

Happily, my photos are marginally better, thanks to the non-white costumes.  Anyway, when the lights came up and the dancing morons began their critiquing onslaught, I got up and went out to the lobby.  I just couldn't stand to listen to them for one more minute.  I tried to return to my seat at the ultimate last minute, but I couldn't avoid hearing the head moron criticize the tempo for the UPCOMING piece.  So...now he's psychic!  Ugh.  I just plugged my ears.  Literally.  I finally heard a woman behind me tell the kids to keep it down.  Perhaps my oncoming insanity scared her.

 

The third piece was Symphony in C, choreographed by Balanchine in 1947.  The score is by Bizet, which he apparently wrote when he was 17!  That's rather amazing.  Anyway, the ballet is in four movements, with each movement featuring two principal dancers, along with soloists and members of the corps.  Each movement has its own flavor and tempo.  The first movement has Stella Abrera and Eric Tamm, all sprightly and energetic.  The second movement has the divinely sublime Polina Semionova and Marcelo Gomes (hey, I finally saw Hallberg and Gomes on the same program - woo hoo!) in a splendid adagio.  Polina seemed to be en pointe for the entire movement, I don't know how she does it.  And Marcelo is just a glorious partner, strong and sure.  He didn't have a lot of solo dancing to do, but you knew he was there (he gave good curtain call, too).  The third movement was all leaping and charged personality by Natalia Osipova and Ivan Vasiliev.  I will say that the black danseur costume was oddly unflattering on poor Vasiliev, but my goodness, he was levitating all the same.  Gorgeous.  And the last movement was Simone Messmer and Jared Matthews, with crisp and precise turning.  Then, the ending, when all the principals, soloists and corps dancers come on stage for a thrilling finale!  It was spectacular!  The ladies were a tiny bit out of unison at one point, but I could live with it thanks to the sheer excitement they were generating.  The audience leapt to its feet and shouted their bravos before the curtain even came down.  I've read on some blogs that the ABT dancers don't compare to the NYCB dancers when they do Balanchine.  OK, that's reasonable.  But I found this production pretty darned terrific anyway.  There was an electric current and a verve about the dancing that was contagious, so bravo from me too.

 

Thankfully, the child dancers of the d*mned ran out of there during the curtain calls, presumably to go perform somewhere else and clearly perform much better than anyone currently dancing at ABT, so I didn't have to hear their post-show nonsense.  Thank heavens.  Though, during the last piece, I could hear the head moron humming aloud, presumably to help the conductor with the tempo.  I very nearly said STOP IT, but I just let it go and tried to lose myself in the ballet (which I generally could do).  I was happy to gather my thoughts afterwards, gather my belongings, and keep my cloud of ballet beauty around me until the next time.  But if I'm seated near ballet kids again, I'm going to ask to change seats.  Part of me wants to send an e-mail to managment to tell them about the bad behavior of their students, but since I'm unsure of which school they actually attend, I guess I'll refrain.  But I have Mr Super Moron's face emblazoned in my memory.  If he should ever make it to ABT, I'll know who NOT to be a fan of, because, as I'm sure you also recall, I can certainly hold a grudge...

 

 

From the archives - trip to Brussels and Bruges

Here's the continuation of reliving my trip to Europe in April, 2000.  I recently found my journals and I've scanned some photos (and borrowed some from the internet - if I had done this much research before I left, I would probably have better stories to tell now).  The journals have been tidied up, with a few pertinent observations from today.  Enjoy!  :)

April 30, 2000:  On to Brussels.  I decided to skip breakfast, in preparation for yet another train trip.  The train was quite nice, though the train station wasn't as lovely as Amsterdam's.  The trip was quiet, with lovely scenery, and lasted about two and a half hours.  GFFMO again spent most of his time engaged with the d*mn guidebook and not me.  But...not a hardship, I have to admit.  There's something very soothing about daydreaming while looking at beautiful European scenery from a train.

GFFMO was set 
on eating at a specific restaurant in the main square - one that was 
recommended by the d*mn guidebook [I'm sure you see a theme here.].  The train station was quite close to the main square, so we walked.  But - oh.my.god.  The square, or the Grand Place, was GORGEOUS!  Stunningly beautiful 15th century buildings as far as you can see!  I would've rather wandered around the square to soak in the lovely surroundings, but GFFMO was intent on eating.  Unfortunately, I was a sheep and joined him. 

This restaurant served bread to the table without charging a service fee, which was great.  I just had some of the bread and a delicious iced coffee [which, if I think about it, may have been my first iced coffee!]  After we finished, we decided to walk around Brussels for a bit, before our train to Bruges.  A shop in the Grand Place, Galler Chocolates, had some delectable looking treats, and also a reasonable international shipping fee, so I decided to get some and send them home to my dad.  I also got a couple for myself - I had never seen an Earl Grey tea chocolate confection before! 

We also had to make sure to get a look at the 
Mannequin Pis, or the little peeing boy statue.  Unfortunately, the statue wasn't wearing one of his 700 costumes.  But it was fun to get a look nonetheless.  We also wandered over to a stunning indoor shopping area - it looked like a palace!  Of course, since it was the day after Queen's Day, nothing was open, except for a record store, where we perused the racks and GFFMO indulged his love of Eurotrash music.

Back to the train station to head to Bruges.  The ride was very quick, a tad under an hour, and we arrived.  I would've liked to take a cab to the hotel, since dragging the suitcase was getting old, but we walked instead.  It was a bit of a hike, but at least it was a lovely hike.  :)  

The hotel was also quite lovely, and almost like a B & B in its size and atmosphere.  It was the Hotel Cordoneanier, and it was right by the main square, which was very convenient.  [the picture at right is the street the hotel was on] After checking in, we decided to explore the town.  And, yes, find a cafe that was recommended by the d*mn guidebook.  It was adorable, with some locals, for once.  I got some vegetable soup and some bread topped with amazing local cheese.  GFFMO got snails.  Blech.  The cafe was very inexpensive and pleasant, which was a soothing change of pace.  After dinner, we went to an ice-cream place recommended by you-know-who.  I tried a little bit of ice cream, but it was extremely rich and a little heavy for my two-trains-today tummy.  So, although GFFMO now wanted to head to a recommended beer hall, I decided to go back to the hotel for a pit stop.  I told GFFMO I would meet him at the beer hall.

Admittedly, I did get a little lost and it took me longer than expected to make it to the beer hall, but I in no way expected the tongue-lashing I received when I got there.  Apparently, I was ruining my travel companion's trip.  Who knew?!  I just sat there, dumbfounded, as he railed against my motion sickness issues, my dietary concerns, and my general unpleasantness as a travel companion.  Hmmmm.  Then he had the nerve to tell me that the worst part was that he had planned the perfect European experience for me and now it was being ruined.  That was enough.  I told him to stop talking, my experience was my experience, and though I appreciated all of his planning, there was no way to predict how things would shake down.  He should have his own perfect European experience and leave me to my own devices.  So...we agreed to disagree, but he got one last complaint in about how unfun it was for him to eat when I wasn't.  Well, that's not my problem, bub.  And...scene.  SO glad there was close to a week left on this funfest!  In all my dreams about my first trip to Europe, being yelled at in a beer hall in Bruges was not on my to do list, but at least the hostility was out in the open.

May 1, 2000:  Oh, gee, another holiday.  May Day is another day for shops to close - such great planning on someone's part.  Anyway, he left the hotel early to climb the belfry and have his perfect experience [I know, sarcasm much?]  I left the hotel a little later and just wandered around Bruges by myself.  And it was glorious.  It was a perfectly lovely walk through a gorgeous town.  It took a while to find a store that was open, but I finally found a store that sold Flemish lace.  I bought a piece for my mom and a tablecloth for my sister, because the exchange rate was extraordinarily good!  I should've gotten some lace for myself, but I was a dope and didn't. 

Later, I met GFFMO at the Church of Our Lady, a 16th century church that housed a Michelangelo, "Madonna and Child."  It also housed the tombs of Mary of Burgundy and Charles the Bold, alongside some Masonic paraphernalia and a chalice holding the blood of Christ.  All in one church!  It was stunning and I was very disappointed I couldn't take any photos inside, since my dad would've loved to have seen the Masonic stuff, though I did sneak this blurry photo of the Michelangelo. 

After the church, we went to City Hall, another glorious building, this one dating from 1376.  It had amazing models and layouts of Bruges, along with the history of their city and its government.  Very interesting, especially seeing how the city hasn't changed all that much in over 600 years.  Next, I needed a liedown, so I went back to the hotel while GFFMO went on a tour of a brewery.  I think my nap was the right thing to do.  :)

Refreshed by my nap, I wandered through town
until it was time to meet GFFMO at Bruge's Beguinhof.  This one was bigger and more touristy than the one we saw in Amsterdam, but it was still beautiful and peaceful.  Plus, it had a museum and a house open for viewing.  It was fascinating to go through the house and imagine living there.

We toured a 
couple of museums, 
the Groeningemuseum and the Memlingmuseum, which housed more Flemish art than I'd ever seen before [or since].  The buildings were both spectacular, dating from the 12th century, and the art was beautifully displayed.  The Van Eycks and the Memlings were especially lovely to me.   Then, to get another perspective on the town, we walked over to the outskirts of Bruges to see the windmills and the countryside.  WOW.  This was amazing.  The houses had stunning stained glass windows and spectacular woodworking details.  GFFMO and I had a truce and started kidding about stopping at a realtor's office to see how much the houses cost.  Truly, a beautiful beautiful spot. 

One last dinner recommended by the d*mn guidebook:  pancakes.  Actually, pancakes are always a good idea, so they were fine.  After pancakes, someone went out for some nightlife and someone went to sleep.  I'm sure you can guess who did what.

In closing, Bruges was spectacular - almost like a dream city.  Or like a storybook version of a European town.  It was clean, beautiful, enchanting and filled with warm-hearted generous people.  I dream of going back and experiencing it without a crabby cloud over my head.  Someday, I will.  Enjoy some more photos I took whilst walking around Brussels and Bruges.  You'll notice that my love of doorways, which I later indulged in Italy, seems to have started to take root in Bruges...

Next up - Paris.