I woke this morning to the speaking of hostel bunk beds. No I don't mind. As Colin Farrell would say "I'm in f- Bruges!" My brief companionship with Hikarru ended at 8am as he was due at the station for his train to Paris. I would envy him but I like Bruges and I don't like the French, of which Paris teems. Something about the Japanese (and other far eastern friends) and the Yanks is that their presence in Bruges add little dashes of bright purple to the otherwise uniformly earthen canvas that the Europeans create with theirs. A chinaman in Bruges is a refreshing novelty. A backpacking, camera-wearing American is...

So I wasted a little time on the Internet on the super fast wifi this morning stirring up interest for an album that probably only my closest friends are going to buy. Then after showering, dressing and throwing down a couple of digestives, I made my way to the 366-step, 83m high Belfort - surely the pride of this city.

When Colin Farrell warned the fat Americans to not traverse the tower, chastising "youz a bunch o' f- elephants", he knew what he was talking about. €8 to ascend the stairs and descend them on an altogether different belt buckle. Good value, especially when that kind of money gets you a waffle! Talking of food, I regretted not having a more nutritional and substantial breakfast. The tightly winding staircase had an adverse effect on my own fickle mind's sense of stability and gravity. After viewing the stunning panorama of Belgium from a vertiginous platform shared with dozens of bells and a hand full of Americans, I promptly sought out a restaurant.

The people that do the Internet advised me to try a little place called Bittersweet on Sint-Amandsstraat, away from the tourist traps of the restaurants in the main square. At first the waitress was a little sharp but probably because there were only two staff visible, one of which was the chef. However the staff shortage only went to proclaim the little place as a triumph of what we Brits crudely and coldly call 'customer service'. When I asked which beer would go well with the salmon pesto pasta, she warmly replied "all of them". Done! She poured me a Vedett and filled a dish with savouries. The main was stunning - the pesto fresh, the pasta of a manageable length (something I've learnt from), and the salmon... perfect. I ordered another beer and continued to read Cloud Atlas, the section of which by chop-smackingly impressive coincidence is about a 1931 composer travelling to Bruges. The super spiritual bunch would assign that to the Holy Spirit and dance for joy. I assign it to serendipity.

The next leg of my journey took me to the museum I've been salivating over like a prissy twit. However after much exploring it was 3pm and time was running short to justify getting there, so I stumbled upon a free harp concert by Luc Vanlaere. When I walked into the cosy 50-seater room, it turns out he'd also brought along (with his concert harp) a Celtic harp, Guzheng, singing bowls, monochord, and gamelan (Fike will be pleased). However the most fascinating instrument was a Hang, developed in 2000. The concert was truly inspirational for its one-man nature and it's silk-road flavours. However it was disparaging in that it was a one-man concert. Will I end up like this man (who was c.60 and not sporting a wedding band)? Not the easiest thoughts to be presented with when you're already doubting your own future in music. However his 'Four Roads' song dedicated to his mother and her advice to find his path by going his own way, presented an interesting retort to the doubts.

After returning to the hostel to recharge, I set out to walk around the city, a job which turned out to be subject to my idiotic sense of scale and distance, even after seeing it ALL from the Belfort this morning. Bruges is bigger than I thought. Got some good pics though. The sun started turning its colour and setting just as I got to a romantic and more importantly, symmetrical, spot on the canal. I sat in Burg square (full circle) about an hour ago and have watched the sky go from royal blue to a deep dark hue of red from the uplighters.

Two things become clear from people watching in such a great spot. Civilisation in Bruges, other than residents, is made up of large tourist groups, and couples, and lonelies. And that there are some great looking folk in mainland Europe.

'Let's Have A Kiki' has once again decided to present itself on my playlist just in time for the end of my days blog. I'll leave you with the image of me dancing in Burg square to silly music only I can hear. Sounds like me all over!