Look to your left at the wide cobblestone expanse framed by tall stone facades with steeply stepped rooflines and large, arched wooden doors at their bases. Welcome to Jan van Eyck Square.
Just a couple of minutes ago at the Old Beursplein, we talked about the intense commercial drive of this city, and that same unyielding ambition is literally paved into the very ground you are standing on. You see, if you had stood here before the year seventeen eighty seven, your feet would be wet. This entire paved square used to be open water. The Kraanrei river flowed right through here, crossed by a beautiful three arched bridge built of white stone called the Nieuwjaarsbrug, or New Year's Bridge.
For centuries, this area was the bustling gateway for the city's vast wealth, a strict and serious hub of global maritime trade. But for a few weeks around the turn of the year, that relentless pursuit of profit paused. The bridge and the surrounding docks transformed into a magical winter market. Locals would crowd onto the stone arches to buy sweet marzipan, sugar candies, and handmade wooden toys for their children. It was a rare, festive breath of fresh air in a neighborhood usually dominated by the heavy lifting of commerce.
But eventually, the city hungered for more usable space. The river was covered over with heavy stone vaults, and the beloved New Year's Bridge was torn down to create the flat square you see today. The sweet markets vanished along with the water, swallowed by the march of progress.
The buildings surrounding the square still tell a tale of incredible social contrasts. On one side sits the Poortersloge, a grand meeting hall where the wealthy elite gathered to feast and plan elaborate jousting tournaments. But right nearby is a much narrower, humbler building called the Pijndershuisje. This was the guild house for the dockworkers, known as the pijnders. That name translates directly to those who suffer pain. These men carried the literal weight of the city's economic ambition on their shoulders, enduring agonizing physical labor to haul massive barrels of wine and heavy bales of wool from the ships. The carved stones on their old guild house still show the deeply bent backs of these medieval laborers.
The landscape here was almost rewritten entirely again in eighteen forty seven. An ambitious architect proposed filling in the rest of the nearby open river to build a massive neoclassical theater. Neoclassical architecture uses grand columns and clean lines inspired by ancient Greece, and the architect hoped to mimic the modern boulevards of Paris. But the people of Bruges finally drew a line. They fought fiercely to protect their historic water views and actually won.
Instead of a theater, the city honored its artistic heritage. The towering bronze statue of painter Jan van Eyck standing here today weighs nearly two thousand kilograms. It replaced an earlier marble statue that the locals had ruthlessly mocked for being far too small.
The physical world of Bruges has always been molded, paved over, and defended by the powerful forces of its people. We are going to explore this constant rewriting of the city's landscape even further at our final stop. Take a gentle stroll with me, and in about four minutes, we will arrive at Saint Walburga's Church.
