In Bruges.

In the film 'In Bruges', which was released this year, Colin Farrell and Brendan Gleeson play two hitmen and friends who are sent by their boss to Bruges, there to await further orders. The order is for Gleeson to kill Farrell, for transgressing their psychotic (but strangely likable, it is a British made film after all) boss's code of conduct. Played by Ralph Fiennes, the boss is an East London gangster, utterly devoid of guilt over his job, but tormented by anger and pain over his hitman's missing a priest and killing a small boy instead. The morals in the film are never subtle and occasionally contorted, but it makes for a great watch and, even if you can't stand the story, the filming is spot on and captures the beauty of Bruges perfectly.

Anyway, thanks to the wonders of writing a post and then setting it to be published a day or hours later, I am sitting at home now on Tuesday morning but by the time you read this I will be in the square in Bruges enjoying an espresso and a sweet breakfast pastry. I am driving to Hull this afternoon (yesterday, keep up) and getting a ferry to Zeebrugge and then a coach will take me to Bruges in time for breakfast. Theoretically, I will have slept and woken refreshed on Belgian waters, but if it is anything like the misleadingly named sleeper train to Inverness, I will be fractious and tired. Never mind, I will be in Bruges looking forward to a couple of days of relic kissing and Belgian beer. I will be home for lunch on Saturday and will bore you with some holiday snaps.