….And get lost, like I did today in Bruges. All the streets in the old town in Bruges are paved, like they must have been for the last several centuries.
And as I was not following the directions in my guidebook (as usual: I’m a bit nonconformist like that), I ended up in a very quiet street flanking a canal in a part of town where there were no tourists and no signs pointing to places of interest.
That happened after I experienced a bout of Stendhal’s syndrome in front of some glorious Memling paintings, talked to a dance choreographer, and had an epiphany about Bosch. Gosh!
I met a painted dog, and a real one (this isn’t it).
And a few devils. That’s where the epiphany came from.
The Dutch sure have a taste for the grotesque: they never miss an opportunity for exaggeration. This is the precursor of Mr Bean:
OK, so here’s my own exaggeration:
Mary: “Joseph, this is your son.”
Joseph: “Mary, have you lost your mind?!?!? Oh wait, where’s the top of your head?”
Mary: “It’s the Papageno’s fault. He took it!”
Joseph: “That’s preposterous! That boy has a bird brain!”
In the end, I found the Museum of the Fried Potato, and all was well again. Toto, we’re back in Wonderland.
