The Markt is Bruges's central square, dominated by the Belfry that rises 83 meters and the provincial court that anchors the square's eastern side. The guild houses that line the square's other sides display the stepped gables that Flemish architecture produced, their facades representing the merchant wealth that built them. The horse-drawn carriages that circle the square offer the transportation that tourists expect; the restaurants that fill the ground floors charge the prices that tourism allows.

The Belfry's 366 steps reward climbers with views that encompass the entire historic center, the brick and tile creating the warm palette that distinguishes Bruges from whiter Mediterranean cities. The carillon that the Belfry holds plays concerts that fill the square below; the market that once happened here has moved to other locations. The Markt is postcards and chocolate shops, the quintessence of what tourists seek and what tourism transforms.

The canals of Bruges create the waterways that earned comparisons to Venice, though the comparison flatters both cities inappropriately. The canals were commercial infrastructure, the transportation that moved goods before roads could handle them; the boat tours that now use them provide the perspective that photographers require. The bridges that cross the canals, the facades that line them, the swans that glide past - these create the imagery that promotes Bruges worldwide.

The boat tours are obligatory tourism, the circuit providing the canal-level views that walking cannot. The commentary that guides provide tells history that the facades illustrate; the passengers who photograph rather than listen miss information while capturing images. The canals are best experienced independently, the walking paths that follow them offering the pace that boat tours cannot. The Rozenhoedkaai, the quay that every photograph includes, deserves the attention it receives.

Bruges's preservation is accident of economic history rather than deliberate choice. The wealth that might have rebuilt the city left when the Zwin silted; the poverty that followed could not afford the modernization that destroyed medieval cores elsewhere. The 19th-century revival that made Bruges a tourist destination celebrated what poverty had preserved; the 20th-century preservation that UNESCO recognition formalized protected what revival had revealed.

The medieval that visitors experience is not entirely authentic - the restorations that have replaced deteriorated elements, the adaptations that modern use requires, the tourist facilities that fill former residences. Yet the bones are genuine, the street patterns and building heights and material choices reflecting actual medieval urbanism. Bruges is as close to medieval city as survives in Europe; the qualification is necessary but the achievement is real.

Bruges claims to be the world's chocolate capital, the shops that sell pralines and truffles lining every street, the demonstrations that attract tourists showing production that happens elsewhere. The chocolate connection is genuine - Belgium developed praline production, and Bruges has maintained the craft - but the concentration that tourism has created exceeds what domestic consumption would support. The chocolate shops are tourism product, the sweet purchases that visitors feel obligated to make.

The chocolate is genuinely good, the quality that Belgian tradition and competition produce. The shops that charge premium prices in tourist streets differ from those that serve locals in residential neighborhoods; the quality is similar, the prices are not. The chocolate of Bruges represents craft that commerce has preserved and commerce has exploited, the combination that tourism always creates.

Bruges's proximity to Brussels and its manageable size make it perfect day-trip destination, the crowds that arrive by train filling the historic center during peak hours and departing before dinner. The day-trippers who overwhelm the Markt and the canal bridges see Bruges at its worst; the overnight visitors who remain after the crowds depart experience the atmospheric evenings that the city's reputation promises.

The day-trip economy distorts what Bruges could be. The shops that cater to rushed visitors, the restaurants that serve tourist menus, the experiences packaged for limited time - these reflect demand that day-trippers create. The Bruges that exists outside the day-trip circuit, the neighborhoods where residents live, the establishments that serve them - these reward visitors who stay longer than the day-trip model suggests.