Riding a bus with Oscar

We’re up and have breakfast with the everyone before they take off

for Ghent, but we’re staying in Bruges today.  Oscar wants to ride buses and it’s raining today, so there is no point in visiting the park like I thought, so we take an umbrella and go to the center of town to grab a bus.  The driver tells me when we get on that he doesn’t go to the train station, but I told him that Oscar just wanted to ride a bus, so it didn’t matter where he went.  We followed the whole route into the suburbs of Bruges where people really live and the driver stopped for his break and let Oscar sit in his chair, honk the horn and

 everything.  We then continued on to the bus station, because what could be easier than just finding another bus to the center of town when you can transfer buses on one ticket right?  Wrong.  All of the buses back into the center of the city were full and they wouldn’t let us on. Then I decided we had to catch a bus that took us somewhere else like the train station to catch a city center bus.  So, when I saw the 74 bendy bus with 80 people on it bound for Oostende station, I figured that would work.  All of the people on it were kids

 in their early teens and I realized that school must be out today which was making the buses busier.  The driver said that he didn’t go to centrum, but I told him I wanted to go to the station anyway.  I think he could have told me that I didn’t want “Oostende” station, but he didn’t.  So, we start driving and driving and driving.  I realize pretty quickly that we’re leaving Bruges.  We’re totally leaving Bruges.  I ask one of the kids where they’re all going and it’s Oostende because it’s a bigger city and they have the day off.  Could you

imagine a bunch of American parents letting their kids just go to another, bigger city 40 kms away.  This would be like if there is a way to take a bus from Cedar Springs to Grand Rapids, so kids could just go have fun in the big city.  Then, I make a bigger mistake.  I notice that we are passing stops that have stops on the opposite side of the street for the bus going back to Bruges.  I ask the driver if there is one at the next stop and he says yes, so we get off.  When I get to the other side, I see that the bus going back to 

Bruges comes again in 4 hours.  And we are in the middle of nowhere.  There are no businesses, nothing.  So, we cross the road again and I find the next bus going to Oostende Station is in 20 minutes and there have to be more buses there.  We’re in a construction zone and Oscar has to pee behind a bush, but there are worse things that could be happening right now.  A local comes by on a bike and tells us that we have to go the end of the construction zone in order to be picked up and we move down.  Luckily we’re at a pedestrian crossing because when the bus

comes, it stops to let us cross, but I have to tell the driver that we want on.  She’s mad and tells me that the stop is behind us, but won’t listen when I tell her I was told to come here, but I don’t care, we’re on the bus and that’s all that counts.  We get off at Oostende Station and I finally see why the name seemed familiar to me.  This is the port city where John and I docked 4 years ago when we ferried over from the Netherlands to visit Belgium.  Great, so, I have traveled out to the sea on a bus when I meant to ride around one town!!! In my first bit of luck in the day, the bus stop for Bruges buses is next to the one we pull into and we are only 30 minutes from the next bus back.  Enough time to find out that the station toilets are closed, but a little bread place will let us use theirs and I grab some lunch for me and a donut for Oscar.  He’s not traumatized by it all, but I am.