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About Bruges

Picture this—me, young Boris, hair a mess, behind the wheel of a rusty ’78 Escort. Mate, the thrill! Engine growlin’ like a lion—well, more like a pissed-off tabby. Cranked it to 70 once—thought I’d die, laughed instead! *“Time is a lie”*, Jesse’d say—felt that, bombin’ down country lanes, no cares, just fumes and freedom.

Escort Grobbendonk

Our café is welcoming, discreet and offers class. Our staff class staff is ready to pour a nice beer or open a bottle of bubbles. Our café also rents luxury.

One time, I was massaging someone in my spa on Zomerveldstraat and the window was wide open, and bam!—the scent of fresh cut grass and lilacs crashed in. I thought, “Wow, this is my heaven, far from any crazy chaos!” Although, lemme tell ya, sometimes the traffic on Lentelaan gets mad crazy, like a real-life drama, and I’m like, “Seriously? Come on!” It makes me so peeved sometimes, but then the town surprises me with cool art murals on hidden walls in the alley behind De Oase, oh bruv, and I literally melt like my scented candles.

Jos Cools (Grobbendonk, BE) counts on the next generation of breeders