The christmas market was not open properly so early in the day, so we headed down towards the canal, where the boats all gather.
We decided to take a boat trip while the sun was out, and stepped on board a little motorboat, manned by the best tour guide I have ever witnessed.
With a heavy Belgian accent, our tour guide spoke perfect English, though I am sure he learnt every bit of it through watching a mixture of Allo Allo and Fawlty Towers. Each sentence was started with a long "and 'ere you 'aveee...", and trailed off with a long high pitched sound that wouldn't be out of place in a Monty Python sketch.
I sat at the back, giggling, doing everything I could to not drop my camera in the water.
Our boat tucked in and out of canals, under low bridges (you're told not to touch the bridges. I scraped my hands along the underside of every one), and into areas unseeable on foot. After half an hour or so, we found ourselves back at the jetty, and we made our way back onto the land.
With the days so short, the sun was already starting to set, and each shop window lit up with the warm, golden glow, emulating the feel of christmas.
Dipping in and out of the little streets, past the churches, and nipping into a chocolate shop along the way, we slowly made our way back to the hotel for a warm shower and to get changed for the night market.
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