Everything back then felt spanking new. I had just moved into my new apartment in a new country, started a new semester at a new university, met new people, made new friends. And with such new friends, we headed out of town on a warm Saturday morning to Gent.
In a way, Gent was a quintessential Belgian (or rather Flemish) city. It has nice market squares, river views, a Belfry, winding cobbled streets, and a young, vibrant, beer-drinking population.
Coming from Leuven and having just been to Bruges, Gent felt like the half way point between the two cities. Having a resident university in town meant that the city exuded the vibe of a student town, while tourist boats and rowers shared Gent’s busy waterways for a glimpse of the quaint views.
And like all Belgian cities, there was nothing spectacular or significant about Gent - just a gentle buzz beneath the surface and an atmosphere of a city intent on enjoying a good life. But on a warm, sunny autumn weekend, in the company of ace people, what more do you need?
xx doots
Belfry, with the hideous construction crane in the background.
One of the many squares in Gent. When we got there, the market was just packing up.
One thing I really miss about Australia: front lawns.
Gent castle.
Decorations in the Vleeshuis, a medieval butcher’s house turned restaurant.
What exactly is this country’s obsession with depictions of public urination?
One of the two churches we went into - the first one being St Baafskathedraal where the famous Adoration of the Mystic Lamb (first known oil painting in existence) resides. This is the second, smaller church, which turned out to be much more photogenic. I can’t for the life of me remember what it was called.
One of the university properties currently being used as public space.
Friend’s rooftop apartment.
View of Gent from the apartment, just outside the city centre.
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