Our final day of the tour was in beautiful Bruges!
Imagine gothic, grand and historical Edinburgh, scaled down to village-size. With horse and carts, chocolatries and crepe stalls at every corner.
This is where I belong. In a stunning wee city, with horses at every turn.
Despite the pouring rain, I stood in Bruges’ city centre stroking a stunning Friesian’s nose while chatting to his driver. I got drenched while the others were enjoying French fries (a Belgian invention despite the name), and chocolate in warm cafes.
But I hadn’t been this content and happy on the entire trip – stroking all the horses, and having them slobber all over my jacket was the highlight of my holiday. As sad as this may be.
Within a couple of hours we were back on the coach and off to the French border to cross back to England.
Until we hit traffic on the motorway. And the motorway was where we sat for more than five hours.
This was due to refugees attempting to swim the channel to get to England before the Brexit referendum. (Read about it here)
While sat in traffic, we watched as dots emerged on the horizon. Swarming closer and closer until refugees were walking around our coach and peering in – clearly desperate to make it to the UK, but intimidating nevertheless.
By midnight, we made it back to London. A city that, in comparison to some of the European cities we had just visited, sorely lacked a welcoming atmosphere.
But it was a great adventure while it lasted.