Our ship docked at Zeebrugge – "Bruges-on-Sea" as the locals call it – but the medieval heart of Bruges lies ten miles inland, and that short journey transported us back five centuries. We took the first shuttle and were wandering cobbled streets by 9 a.m. while morning mist still clung to the reien canals. I'd read that UNESCO declared this entire city a World Heritage Site in 2000, and within five minutes I understood why: these waterways haven't changed their course since the 1400s. Vikings settled here in the 9th century, fishermen built their cottages in the 10th, and by medieval times the Zwin estuary made Bruges the wealthiest trading city in northern Europe – English wool arrived by the shipload and left as Flemish tapestries and textiles that dressed half the continent's nobility.

The Belfry tower loomed above the Markt like a Gothic wedding cake – eighty-three meters of medieval ambition founded in 1240. I counted every one of the 366 steps on the way up (my knees reminded me later), and when we reached the top the carillon's forty-seven bells rang out over the rooftops in a cascade that made my chest vibrate. Down below, horse-drawn carriages clip-clopped past lace shops and waffle stands. We wandered to the Church of Our Lady – the tallest structure in the city – and stood before Michelangelo's Madonna and Child, a marble sculpture so serene it seemed to glow in the chapel's dim light. The lady at the door told us it's the only Michelangelo work that left Italy during his lifetime. Later we discovered that Jan van Eyck and Hans Memling both painted masterpieces here in the 15th and 16th centuries, and their work still hangs in the Groeningemuseum like a private conversation with the past.

We had lunch at De Halve Maan brewery – waterzooi cream stew and stoofvlees washed down with fresh Brugse Zot straight from the source. In the afternoon we walked the Dijver watching swans glide under stone bridges, then visited the Choco-Story museum in the 16th-century Huis de Crone mansion. Belgium and chocolate are practically synonyms, and this little museum explained why: the craft, the history, the devotion to cacao that borders on reverence. We finished with hot chocolate so thick the spoon stood up at The Old Chocolate House. They call Bruges the "Venice of the North," and I won't argue – though I'd say it's quieter, cleaner, and somehow more itself. The pros: Bruges is the most romantic medieval city still alive. The cons: cruise crowds descend by 10:30, but the back streets stay magically quiet if you wander five minutes off the Markt.