Culture, Cobblestones & Canals

I approached the driver in the main square to inquire about a carriage ride and, still in the habit from Brussels, tossed off a sprightly “bonjour.” I blame being tired for my social stumble. This was the heart of West Flanders, and French is not a sound that rings friendly in their ears. The driver smiled and kindly said, “A small piece of advice, if I may? Here, it is much more polite to begin a conversation in English, rather than…