Katelina's Journey

Niccolo Rising - Chapter 3

Nepomucenusbrug
Katelina van Borselen left Adorne's house with her maid, and the wind barely stirred her cut-velvet cloak. She had been home in Flanders for two days. The town house her father had taken in Silver Straete lay on the other side of town.
The painted canal boat of Anselm Adorne waited for her at the foot of the gardens,
with three servants to care for her.
She had them row her home the long way, past the convent of the Carmelites, and St Giles' church, and the great pile of the Augustines, and the handsome church of St James, from which could be seen the towers of the
St Gilliskerk
The Prinsenhof
Prinsenhof, to which the Duke of Burgundy's bath had been dragged with such trouble. She would not think of that, or the considering gaze of the notary Julius.
She made them row her almost as far as the Friday market.
Folkloremarkt
They said that Venice had bridges too, but Bruges must have a hundred:
in stone with almond eyed saints and dulled guilding;
Bonifaciusbrug
in wood, with treacled timbers and bosses of greenery. ...
And on either side passed the crooked banks of tiled houses, drunkenly cobbled with crazy windows and flower pot balconies and roofs fluted like pastry crusts. Their feet, their watergates, their warehouse doors were set in the canal.
North from the Ezelbrug
Approach to the Minnewater
Their boat steps led up to small secret gardens whose roses tumbled over the wall, and swayed to the draught of a passing boat, and posted their mingled scents after it.
The van Borselens were Zeelanders, but Katelina understood how it felt to be a Bruges townsman. Edinburgh was grey stone and grey, silvered wood and every roadway was vertical. Bruges was flat. Bruges was speckled warm brick, its roads cloistered with towered mansions and palaces .
and tall houses, laddered with windows, where the businessmen lived
Bruges was the multiple voices of working water; and the quality of brick thrown echoes, and the hiss of trees and the flap of drying cloths in the flat country wind, and the grunting like frogs in the marsh, of quires of crucified clothes, left to vibrate in the fields of the tenters. Bruges was the cawing of gulls, and the bell-calls.
Duc du Bourgogne
Bells rang from all the towers in Edinburgh, but a Bruges man was born to the beat of the womb and the belfry hours. The work bell four times a day, when mothers rescued their young from the feet of the weavers. The watch bell, the great bell for war, or for Princes that you could head from a poop deck in Damme. The marriage bell. She would not think of that either...
Onxe-Lieve Vrouwekerk
St Jakobskerk

Note that Katelina's journey is no longer entirely possibly by canal, and some of the buildings no longer exist. The above photos are illustrations, rather than the exact locations she would have passed.

 

Updated 12 Oct 2006 - Fix broken Links
Updated 10 Aug 2001
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