My friend Cara visited me yesterday. Our evening began on my back terrace, watching the seagulls fly home. It ended on the Sleepstraat as we walked past all the Turkish pizza places to her car.

We talked about it all … everything under the moon. It was easy. It was real.

I had made a dinner reservation for 7:00 at Dish. At 5:30 or so, I suggested we go exploring. And off we went.

We strolled. We meandered. I didn’t think. I just asked my feet to lead amid the twinkling lights and the darkening sky.

Those feet took us through the twisting cobblestone streets of the Patershol. The cobbles glistened. And then my favourite bench at the Lievekaai … watching the silence of the willow trees unfold.

As you may already know, I’ve declared that the next love of my life will be Elise. I haven’t met her yet.

Have I ever showed you where I’m going to ask Elise to marry me?

No

And so to the Academiebrug, a bridge over the Lieve. “I’ll have Elise stand right here. And then I’ll kneel down.” Cara smiled.

We ambled past the hugeness of the Augustinian monastery. Two turns and there was the entrance … the door was open. Cara was willing.

We sat in the dark at the back. A Mass was being held in the light at the front. I told Cara that I was happy to stay until she was ready to go. We lingered. The Dutch words of the priest and the singing of the faithful hung in the air.

We walked some more. “I want to show you my favourite window in Gent.” Soon we were standing in front of a huge expanse of glass in the shape of an upside down teardrop. I sighed.

I wanted Cara to experience the sweetness of Café Denizli on the Tolhuislaan but I wasn’t sure how to get there from here. I smiled as I knew that I wouldn’t use Google Maps this time.

“I thought we would have been there by now. Maybe I missed it, so focused on our conversation.” > “I don’t think so. We haven’t passed any café.”

Alrighty then …

Cara was right. Ten minutes later came the glow of Denizli. A few guys were outside, gesturing and talking loudly in Turkish. A table on the sidewalk invited us. “Here’s where I sat a few days ago, and the woman who owns the place sat right there!” The men paused and stared. I waved.

There were maybe fifteen folks inside. I scanned the faces … no one that I recognized.

Onwards. Now I really didn’t know how to get from the here of Denizli to the there of Dish. “Put that phone down, Bruce” came the words from inside my body.

Let’s turn here …

Let’s turn here …

Past the corner of a building rose a church. I followed the steeple. And voilà! I knew the entrance. I knew Merkez Bakery on the corner. We sat on a bench … facing Dish.

Piece of cake

Journey’s end

A culinary one about to begin