Metro matrix

I grew up in Mumbai where commuting by local trains was a daily ritual. I had travelled by Metro in Delhi and Kolkatta in India. So when I was at the Torcy station waiting for the train to Champ de Mars I had imagined this commute would be a similar or may be a slightly fancier experience. But soon I realised that it was going to be a unique experience.

The stations on the metro lines are as glamorous as the city itself. The glittering advertisements, fancy vending machines, colourful city maps add glamour to the platforms. The signage in more than three languages explained the cosmopolitan character of the city. Looking at the train from the platform I felt that half the passengers were sinking in the platform while other half were floating above the platform.

The double decker trains were full of people of various colours wearing costumes which explained why this city is known as the fashion capital of the world. I wondered how much money the beggars would make in a day by distributing small cards which explained the reason of their plight and poverty in English and French languages. The musician playing peppy tunes were as entertaining as those in any other city squares in Europe. I am definitely going to miss this community after I go back to India.

The most intimating part of the journey was the switch over of the metro lines. I lost my way at least once in every commute in spite of the adequate signage guiding me through the endless tunnels. After maneuvering through the long tunnels and sliding up and down the escalators I had lost count of the levels I descended underground. A thought about trains running one above the other over my head would tickle my mind. After emerging out of the station completely disoriented I would make a futile effort to understand this three dimensional tangle. 

I will definitely remember my fist trip to Paris for this downward trip than the upward trip to the top of the Eiffel Tower. 

A metro station in Paris.

Damme

 After spending the day in Bruges I wanted to spend the evening in Damme. The sky was laden with  grey clouds and the wind was disturbingly cold.The rain was just around the corner so we decided to take the bus from Bruges to Damme instead of the ferry. As the bus rode back to the centrum we took a glance at all the medieval marvels we had visited that day. The Markt was flooded with tourists clicking pictures inspite of the cloudy gloomy weather. Well, I was one of them too!

As the bus sped out of Centrum and headed towards  the Dammeport the grand historic buildings were replaced by small  houses tugged next to each other in linear rows. The houses are built in exposed brick masonry with typical Flemish facades. Narrow roads separated  the houses from the canals in the front. On the rear side the canals were flowing along the backyards of these houses.

Canal in Bruges.

As we drove past the Dammeport the houses disappeared from the landscape . Large stretches of meadows and stables egded with tall trees dominated the landscape. The road and the trees were shining after the brief showers. The canal connecting  Bruges to Damme guided our way. In about 20 minutes we were in front of the Town Hall  in Damme. 

The Town Hall.

After taking the preliminary information about this city from the tourist information office we started walking back towards the canal. In about 5 minutes we were at the foot of the Schellemollen wind mill.

Schellemollen - the windmill.

This flour mill is the only functional flour mill in this area. It was 4 storied tower with four bright red and brown wooden blades. Gunny bags of the flour were stored in the ground floor of the mill. The climb up to the 3rd floor by a steep narrow wooden ladder was exciting. The window on this floor offered a great veiw of the surrounding landscape. 

The wooden gears of the flour mill.

After visiting the windmill we strolled along the canal. Lot of tourists had come from Bruges on bikes to visit the windmill. The beauty of the surrounding landscape was very refreshing. We were blessed with some sunny moments when I captured the scenic beauty in my camera.

The quite road along the canal. Biker's delight!

The willow swinging with the wind.

The ferry boat between Bruges and Damme.

Canal in Damme flanked with tall willows.

After spending an hour in Damme we took the bus back to Bruges railways station  for our return journey to Ghent.