All hail the king of the beerfest

In fact, getting your bearings on foot is best in winter as the boats winding through the picturesque canals don't run and, while horse-drawn carriages taking tourists round the cobbled streets and squares were quaint, an allergy to the steeds ruled me out.

Winter markets selling mulled wine, waffles and frites (hot chips) adorned the little squares, where I was challenged to try Jager tea, a steaming beverage containing the German liqueur Jagermeister.

It tasted like hot water with a mince pie dissolved in it.

Now, I'm in the camp that adores mince pies - you either love them or hate them - but in hot liquid form it's the latter.

At beer o'clock, we headed into the inviting cafe-bar Cambrinus and asked for the beer menu.

The weighty tome with two thick planks of wood acting as front and back covers listed hundreds of beers, their style (blonde, amber or dark), alcohol content and a comprehensive flavour description.

The choice was completely overwhelming and it was ages before we took a mildly informed stab in the dark.

We were lucky, enjoying our choices and with new-found confidence, headed to the next establishment.

'T Poatersgat ('T Poatersgat) translates from local dialect as "the Monk's Hole" and is a beautiful cross-vaulted cellar reached via a stone staircase leading down from one of the streets off the main square.

Having arrived shortly after opening time we were almost alone, but made the most of the lovely ambience and great service as we settled into some worn armchairs.

The beer, from a smaller menu than Cambrinus, was pretty good too but we were starting to feel the effects of the stronger brew.

A sumptuous seafood dinner at Cafedraal - their bouillabaisse specialty for me - and we were ready for one more beer.

We stumbled upon Brugs Beertje, a cosy cafe filled with antique advertising posters which, according to Lonely Planet, is legendary throughout Belgium and beyond, for a nightcap.

The following day, we repented by climbing the 366 steps to the top of the Belfort, the 13th-century belfry overlooking the main square.

Thick fog limited visibility from the top, but it was worth braving the long queue to get in.

A stroll around the canals and our attention turned to the many chocolate shops lining the streets.

Here, choosing from the huge range of treats on display is as daunting as the beer menus, but most are labelled and shopkeepers are happy to answer questions (some even offer samples).

You can pick individual chocolates or opt for a selection box. Why not try both?

Bruges, at the cutting-edge of diamond polishing before the industry flourished in the now more famous centre of Antwerp, still has a diamond museum which stages fascinating demonstrations.

But one must-see eluded us.

The previous day we had searched in vain for De Garre, a tiny pub known for its exclusive Tripel de Garre beer but, according to our guidebook, notoriously hard to find.

We finally reached it down a tiny alley off a street between the two main squares and when their signature brew arrived at the table, I decided to take a photo - proof of our successful quest.

A local smiled and said: "It's better to drink it than take pictures of it."

No argument from me.