Nestled in the heart of the Cotswolds is the little Wiltshire town called Bradford-on-Avon. Though tracing its origins back to the Roman era like its nearby sibling Bath, Bradford really exploded in the late middle ages due to the woollen textile industry. This legacy has left several of its original buildings such as the marvellously quaint pub, The Bridge, founded in 1502. In Bradford-on-Avon, you’ll also find thatched roofs, picture-perfect churches, historic tithe barns, and grand Georgian streets (much like in Bath). This fairy-town town happily overlooks the Avon River and the Kennet and Avon Canal. Once used to transport goods across the country, the canal lost its significance with the growth of railways, but Bradford was genius enough to restore to the lock and canal to working order by the ’80s, providing a link to Bath (via the Avon) in the west, and the Thames at Reading in the east. Home to a pretty little path running alongside the canal, this is a wonderful place for a walk, bike or run on those few but appreciated sunny mornings.
Pro tip: If you’re a runner, Bradford’s canal is surely one of the best places in the world to go for a run! Try running along the canal from Bath to Bradford-on-Avon (or vice versa); it’s about 10 miles and the views of the canal, houseboats, swans, countryside and wee houses are stunning. Then, take the train back to your starting point.
The clipp-clopping of hoofs ringing on rounded cobblestones, coupled with the wistful creaks of wagon wheels and the high-pitched laughs of a merry group of people fill the ancient square, enough to work time-machine magic on anyone. Diving out of the way of the impending carriage, your thoughts wander back to another time, another era. Once upon a time, this vehicle was both a means of transportation and of merriment to those rich enough to afford it, and a means to an end for those in charge of driving it or tending its horses. Modern times may have left the horse-and-buggy an antiquated element of a romantic past, but there are still some places in the world – many of which that are in Europe – that refuse to accept this, and continue, without trepidation, to insist on the important use of horse-drawn carriages in the transportation of tired guests across a city centre. Aside from Flemish cities, Warsaw, Vienna, fairytale towns in the French Alps, and paths in rural Ireland come to mind as a few. Bruges is another place that is lost in time, a city that tries so hard to cling to a past long gone – though where other places have failed, Bruges has succeeded. Bruges is, to use Harry’s words from In Bruges, “It’s a fairytale town, isn’t it? How can all those canals and bridges and cobbled streets and those churches, all that beautiful fairytale stuff, how can that not be somebody’s f*****g thing, eh?”
There are still some secret places in Europe where fairy tales seem to come alive and the words “Once upon a time…” seem to be the town slogan. Megève, in the heart of the French Alps, is one of those places. Megève, along with many alpine villages, seems to have fallen off the pages of a fairy tale storybook. Wooden chalets with steeply pointed roofs cluster around an ancient church. Cobblestones ring with the sound of horse hoofs and the creak of wagon wheels. A towering pine tree stands in the centre of the town square – proudly occupying the place of honor. Snug little shops, cozy cafes and sturdy lodges weave along Megève’s narrow streets. Everywhere, skiers in puffy vestments and giant boots mingle with the locals, skis in one hand, a hot chocolate in the other. Gentle snowflakes are falling, adding to the thick, soft blanket of snow that covers everything. It is truly a magical place.
For reasons unknown to me, Belgium gets a bad rep, mostly from the Brits. There seems to be a running joke that Belgium is boring and useless, which is difficult to understand for any tourists who visit this small European treasure! The Fairytale Town of Bruges is most certainly the nation’s crown jewel. It has everything a traveller would want: Belgian waffles and fries sold every 10 steps (though not together!), oh-so-much chocolate, beautiful buildings, old Gothic-style halls and belfries, canals, cobblestones, fantastic beer, not-s0-terrible prices (in comparison to its neighbours, the UK and France!), and cheap, easy connections to other Belgian cities such as Ghent, Antwerp and Brussels. If you’ve seen In Bruges, you’ll see the foreigners’ “dislike” of Belgium in general and Bruges in particular, but at the same time, the boss (minus the swearing) hits the nail on the head while bewilderingly responding to his employee’s response that “Bruges isn’t his ‘thing’: “It’s a fairytale town, isn’t it? How can a fairytale town not be somebody’s thing? How can all those canals and bridges and cobbled streets and those churches, all that beautiful fairytale stuff, how can that not be somebody’s thing, eh? How can swans not be somebody’s thing, eh? How can that be??!” How indeed?