Day Fifty

Monday, 8/1

We decided to enjoy Lauterbrunnen and our lovely apartment for as long as possible, ignoring the fact that tomorrow we'll be on a plane headed home. (This valley has made us feel very much at home, in fact we find many similarities between it and our beloved Yosemite). We slept in to be roused by the church bells which hearlded two different weddings on this day. (Fun to see one bride hike up her long white gown while walking through the parking lot to reveal cotton leggings and tennis shoes, the only way to go when you are married in the Swiss Alps where the weather can change in a heart beat.) Speaking of the weather, today it is sunny with a slight cool breeze in the mountains, but as we boarded our train after grabbing a sandwich in the cafe, it got hotter and hotter as we descended into the cities. (Perhaps preparing us for the sweltering heat of Southern California in August!) Despite the stuffy train ride to Luzern (our transfer after Interlaken), we saw beautiful landscapes, more sea sized lakes, rushing creeks (churning white tinged with blue, the color of non-fat milk), and adorable community gardens with small greenhouses adjoining. The Swiss train schedule was impressively on time and we walked very swiftly to make our connections which seemed to zoom away from the station as soon as we were inside the sliding door. On the train to Zurich we munched on the last of our alpine cheese and sipped sparkling apple juice (it is hard to get anything without fizz here, your water and even your juice is most likely going to have some bubbles). Greg returned the Kindle to me so I could finish the final book of the Overlander series. (I am very close to being done and he wants to read it on the way home tomorrow). Very soon we were arriving in Zurich, Greg said it reminds him of the Hollywood Hills the way expensive looking houses perch on hillsides. Bidding farewell to our last train (sniff, sniff) we sook out our last city bus (good riddance, Greg and I agree they were the most difficult form of transportation, regardless of the city!) After a three minute walk from the station we found some bus stops, but not our bus stop. Greg inquired in one bus and the driver pointed us around the corner as he drove off. Greg stuck his head in another bus and asked the driver if this was the right direction. The driver responded brusquely, "Nein, nein!" and Greg barely escaped with his head as the doors speedily slammed shut and the bus zoomed away. (See, the Swiss really do take their punctuality seriously!) You might notice the driver spoke to Greg in German but we've had a mix of French, English and German in this country. You might be greeted "Guten Tag" and at the end of the meal receive a "Merci". This kind of a melding of cultures has been found in the food as well, while many sausages reflect the German, cheeses reflect the French and they throw in some Italian food just for good measure. Anyhow we did eventually find our bus and our hotel was just a two minute walk from our stop. Our airport hotel is in an industrial park. This hotel is also the picture of efficiency. They have a breakfast buffet and restaurant all in house, shuttles every thirty minutes to the airport (which is only ten minutes away), and very clean streamlined rooms, with everything a traveler needs. It will be the perfect place to shower up, repack and organize our luggage, and get easily to the airport in the morning. While our room has a degree of sterility about it there is a huge birch like tree outside our window casting leaf pattern shadows across our walls, imparting a sense of calm. We hope to be able to unwind here and reflect on fifty of the most incredible nights of our life spent traveling this amazing continent and to return home to share our adventures with all of our loved ones who we have missed so dearly. See you soon!

Climb every mountain

Sunday, 7/31

The church bells started to ring at around 7am (and supposedly ring every 15 minutes in between, but I didn't hear them again until around 8:30). We had a relaxed breakfast in our apartment. Scrambled eggs, cereal, and a little bit of alpine cheese made right in this very town. We packed a day pack with essentials, windbreakers, long sleeves, some snacks and water and headed out to learn how to use the tram lines to see the town. It is pretty expensive to get a multi-destination pass, but being that the sun was shining and it was warm out, it seemed the perfect day to go exploring in this alpine setting. We ponied up the 80-plus Swiss Francs for the tickets and boarded our first tram. This cable car type contraption is basically attached to a really skinny looking cable and is hoisted almost straight up into the air and deposits you (and about 50-75 other people who are usually crammed in like sheep) onto a mountain top. It is a pretty smooth ride, except when you hit a support it swings a little, resulting in all adults and children in the tram hollering, "Ohhhh!" No matter how many times you've ridden the car in a given day, it always gives your tummy a little dip and receives the same excited call from the crowd. Our first stop landed us in Murren, a very adorable alpine town, with lots of restaurants, hotels, and recreation. We climbed the hill into town and decided to have lunch at a cafe with an excellent view of Eiger, Monch, and Jungfrau (The ogre, the monk, and the young lady; names of the tallest and most famous peaks in this area). We tried the Rosti for lunch ( a local specialty that looks like hashbrowns, it is basically grated potatoes with various toppings). Back on the trail and full of carbs, we hiked through the town of Murren to get to the cable car that goes to the top, Schilthorn (though not officially the highest point in Europe, it is awfully close at 9,154 feet above sea level. To think just about a week ago we were in Holland, below sea level!) It took two cable cars to get to the top, with a stop over on the peak of Birg. While the car itself feels totally stable, except for that occasional sway, it looks like you are on a bus suspended by a rope and this rope is tied to the other side of a cloud. We saw tiny specks that the driver pointed out to us, as we zoomed in with our camera, the dots turned out to be mountain goats clinging to the side of the rocks. When we finally got to the top there was snow on the ground the visibility was nil, we were inside a cloud. Not much need for pictures from the top, but the ride up and down provided many stunning views. One more flight on the truck on a string to nearby Gimmelwald, a tiny, too cute Alpine village. Until the cable car came to the town in the 1960s women who were expecting would start the hike down at the first twinges of labor hoping to make it to Lauterbrunnen before their delivery, those were the days! This village was sprinkled with quaint alpine chalets, sheds decked out with cowbells, baby cows at the road side, flower filled gardens and meadows, and handmade wooden signs advertising homemade cheese and butter. I need to stay longer in this town just to consume more dairy! Alas, it was nearly five and though we had no rain today (hurray) darker clouds were gathering, so we decide to take our last cable car which basically launched over a cliff and went straight down, slowly but directly. Greg whispered, "This is as close to base jumping as we are going to get." My forehead pressed against the glass window, looking the waterfall beneath us and the steadily approaching valley floor, I knew he was right. Back in the valley in the town of Stechelberg, our pass included a ride on the Post Bus to get us back to Lauterbrunnen. From the bus we had a great view of the valley that spread out in front of us and the mountains above us (where we had just spent our day). As I gazed up at the peaks, I saw a strange large bird...no it wasn't ...suddenly a parachute erupted from the shape. It was a base jumper, the first and only one we've seen (and no grandma, he wasn't naked!) The fancy suit he was wearing resembles a flying squirrel with fabric connecting between arms and legs to make wings to help steer himself away from the jagged cliff he had just hurdled himself off. Crazy! Back to our cute apartment, too late to hit the market and make dinner (all grocery stores are closed by 7:00), so we headed to yet another restaurant ( I know I should enjoy, but I really miss cooking...) Soup and sandwiches amidst the sound of fireworks being tested for tomorrow's celebration, August 1st is National Swiss Day! (Not to mention, our day FIFTY!)

Sleepy Switzerland

Saturday, 7/30

And somehow we are awake. An early morning today, so we could pack and grab breakfast at a cafe in the market and then return to the room to saddle up with the luggage before checking out and making our way through the metro to our train all before 10:30. This is the final sprint to the end but our stamina has been fading. Other than needing naps in Italy initially, we've been pretty well rested on our trip. I was feeling sleepy in Belgium and now here in Paris both Greg and I have been pretty exhausted, so we are starting to look forward to catching up on some sleep when we return home. No doubt we'll need to conquer jet lag on that end too! But for now, it is time for the final country on our itinerary, Switzerland. Most of our trains today were reserved. The first train traveled from Paris to Basel (a boarder town) was about a three hour ride. The French countryside was different than any we have seen thus far. Both hilly and flat at the same time and varying from full on forests to fields of dried grass with only the occasional tree. Blue skies in Paris today, but as we left the city more grey clouds were on the horizon in the country. The second train was from Basel to Interlaken, about two hours long. Our state of exhaustion required much napping but waking with a start each time the train announcement chimed to make sure we didn't miss our stop. Interlaken had such and expansive alpine lake it was almost sea like and the color of the water was akin to something you'd find off an island in the Caribbean; turquoise waters. The third train was a short hop, skip, and a jump away from Interlaken, landing us in Lauterbrunnen.

We departed the train to large drops of slow falling rain, not even worth putting up the umbrella for. Following our directions from the hotel, we located the waterfall, walked toward it, spotted the church and looked across the street, there was the Horner Pub. This pub is the best pub in town, because it is the only pub in town (there slogan, not ours). Outside there was a mish-mosh of base jumpers sharing beer and stories, inside we found Angie, who immediately knew who we were and greeted us like old friends. She showed us our apartment across the street, which is huge. We have the whole ground floor, a full kitchen, living room, bedroom and bath, all connected by one long hall. Four whole rooms all to ourselves, one could get lost! I wish we could spend more time here. The views of the church and surrounding hills and mountains from our bedroom and living room are unfathomable, you'll just have to wait for photos, though they cannot fully capture the expanse of this valley. Having stowed our bags we went off in search of food. On the one and only road in town we passed the cemetery, my favorite one I've seen in Europe, and we've seen some pretty beautiful graveyards. This one has natural stone headstones and the plots are planted like mini-gardens. I know it sounds dark to admire a cemetery, but once again, you'll have to see the photos to understand the beauty of it. Down the road was the campground. What an elaborate campsite, with internet and game rooms, a full restaurant and store. Very cool to see how Americans and Europeans can camp in luxury while in Switzerland. We stocked our fridge and grabbed a pizza, too exhausted to cook despite the lovely kitchen. We ended the evening with some genuine swiss hot chocolate, (actually got to put the stove to use) making us irretrievably sleepy. Good night quiet little town of Lauterbrunnen, see you in the morning.

I Love Paris...

Friday, 7/29

Indeed we did sleep well, not even the market trucks arriving woke us in the morning. More clouds shrouded the sun, but when we did emerge, we had no trouble locating souflee like pastry with custardy deliciousness and very good cappuccino. Our first order of business was to find Notre Dame. Greg negotiated the complex subway system (like a rainbow, there our violet lines, chartruces, maroon...) Anyhow we arrived on the island (yes, bridges and subways come to and fro but the church is surrounded by the river) and found our way to this famous church. At first, I was unimpressed. From afar it was just two blunt towers intricately carved. But as you approach the detail comes into play. Countless protruding gargoyles decorate the butresses and inside intricate stained glass windows are a sight to behold. Greg and I grabbed a crepes to munch on as we walked around the structure viewing some parks and gardens that surrounded it. The Louvre, sunshine in the statue gardens, matching lawn chairs crowded around various fountains making it seem like a day at the pool or a block party. On our way to the next stop we stumbled upon the high end shopping street: Louis Vitton, Cartier, Rolex, Tiffany's, Dior, and more. Only window shopping for us in this area. Another metro needed to be mounted to reach our next destination. As we moved through the crowd we realized we had entered a very ethnic neighborhood. There was an African influence here and as we hiked up a particularly steep street toward the church, we realized we were on beauty parlor row. Frizzy hair balls blew down the sidewalk like tumble weeds in a western. Wigs and weaves were the fashion of choice here, in fact one lady called out to me in French saying something about my hair. Either she wanted to cut it off and make a wig out of it or she was dying to give me a weave, some things get lost in the translations. None the less, Greg and I kept trekking up the inclining streets of this 'hood until we reached a very steep set of stairs. After our extreme climb through this interesting neighborhood, both Greg and I were feeling a bit tired again. Our legs remembering all the steps of yesterday (and how we have to go up four flights each time we return to our room) were protesting, so we took a break at a colorful cafe at the foot of a steep flight of stairs that headed in the direction of Sacre Cour, the sacred heart chapel. After sharing a carafe of cold white wine with my sweet husband I was ready to face....more stairs! As we climbed, sprinkles began again, but we found them cooling and encouraging, hoping to reach the top and get in the church before it started to pour. Luckily the rain was gentle. As we entered the church, which was impressive in its facade, I felt chilled. Not by the transition from cool rain outside to warm stuffy cloisters, but there was a genuineness in this church. A couple huddled around candles that they lit and spoke in whispers about healing a suffering friend. Old women knelt on crickety knees at the alter in earnest prayer. Usually not one to pray, I thought, what do we have need to pray for? Seeing a liquid silver looking statue of the Madonna and child I thought, Greg's sister Devon is expecting and is only days away from her due date, let us direct our thoughts in this holy place toward a safe and easy delivery for her. It was a beautiful church, inside and out and that is coming from someone who has seen more churches that she can count in the last six weeks. Back outside the rain had stopped, and we were witness to a very amazing and talented street performer who had gathered hundreds of people in appreciation for his art. This man of African decent stood on a pillar with a soccer ball, he performed all sorts of amazing feats with the ball, like taking his shirt off while balancing it on his head, rolling it all over his body and kicking it up to himself continuously without faltering. For his finale, Soccer Man climbed a light pole while kicking and shimmying with the ball, he then held the ball between his feet and gripped the pole with both hands straightening his body perpendicular to the ground some 15 feet below him. He was a real crowd pleaser. One had to wonder how many times a day he did this routine. Here is an example of real applicable strength vs. going to the gym. We wound our way back to the metro where in only one transfer, good job Greg "The Map Man" Jackson, we got back to our hotel. Cleaned up for dinner, we headed out for a real French meal. I enjoyed the sea bass and Greg had to have more risotto and for dessert we enjoyed the cheese plate. As budding cheese connosuirs we loved analyzing all the flavors. There was creamy fragrant brie, a milky salty alpine firm cheese, blue cheese with the taste of the pasture (you could smell the hay and grass), and the goat cheese was so distinct that you could tell the goat fed on lavender and sage brush. Greg even ordered champagne to go with our dessert. It was a meal to remember! Back to the room to prepare for our final country of this journey. Tomorrow we are off to meet Die Schweiz.

The Iron Giant

Thursday, 7/28

Early to rise for another chocolaty breakfast in Belgium. Greg grabbed one more St. Bernardus for the train and we tossed on our packs and boarded the Belbus, which was there early (Thanks to Jackie for reserving it for us) and got us to the station with plenty of time to spare. By 11:30 we had already changed trains twice. First Poperinge to Kortrijk and then the train from Kortrijk to Lille Flanders. Luckily as we got on the second train Greg read and understood something about "diese zug hier gesplittet" at this station, so he checked with conductors and sure enough we were sitting in a section that was to be split and left behind! We hurried to one of the front three cars as instructed that were going on to Lille Flanders and were on our way. I never would have caught that, thank goodness for his quick acquisition of foreign language! In Lille Flanders, we had an hour before boarding the train to Paris Nord. We ventured out of the station, heavy backpacks in tow, to find a snack and see the city for a moment or two. A few beggars and a very upset mentally ill woman made for a poor initial impression of the city, but we did manage to see another impressive church and to find the final holy grail of Belgian food in the border city. We enjoyed a second breakfast of a Belgian waffle topped in chocolate sauce, whipped cream, and sliced bananas. After this quick bite it was time to head back to the station and board our train for Paris. This was a reserved train, as it can be a popular one. Our seats in first class were very posh (It is funny how much this varies from train to train, sometimes there is virtually no difference between the 1st and 2nd class seats save a partition and the marking of "1" on your car. Other times 2nd class seats are very shabby and 1st class has arm chair style seats, tons of legroom, lap tables and treats.) To quote Forrest, Trains across Europe.." are like a box of chocolates, you never know what you are going to get!" The same can be said of WC on the train. When I first wrote about the water closet on the train, I mentioned how fun, breezy and refreshing it was. Not always true, sometimes they are filthy and stinky (even in 1st class). But if you gotta go... There were other distractions on the train to Paris, a mom had boarded getting her 8 and 12 year old daughters settled in their seats, with many kisses and reminders in French before she departed. I was wondering what adventure she was sending the girls off on. They seemed excited going into the city alone but were extremely well behaved and entertained themselves on the hour ride talking in whispers to one another. We wondered who would meet them at the station. Greg wondered were mom and dad separated and the girls were going to spend the weekend with him? But when we arrived at the station, my theory won out, their doting grandpa was there to receive them with hugs and kisses on their cheeks. They had the joy and anticipation on their faces that only a visit to the grandparents could have supplied. People watching is one of the best forms of free entertainment we have experienced. Back in a big European city again after many days in the countryside, an automatic shift takes place in a traveler. Relaxation and slow pace are vanquished by the slap-in-the-face-like urgency of the city. It is either move with the rhythm of the city or be trampled by it. This is not necessarily a bad thing, it gives one new energy and forces you to live in the moment. As we were examining the metro boards trying to figure out how to get to our hotel, a supposedly stuffy Parisian who was checking the board along side us asked kindly, "Do you need help?" Yes, we did. While we thought that we'd mastered the metros due to our experience in Rome with it's four lines, Milan's city metro system, and an even larger number in Berlin for both the underground and S-bahn, this 14 plus line system of various different hues (plus upwards of 250 stops) was tough to make heads or tails of. When we told the Parisian man where we were headed he said, "Ah, this is easy, it could be worse." He studied the map with us patiently found the most direct route, only one transfer, pointed out the way to that line through the station, and reminded us to keep a close eye on our bags. What a nice man! He was the first of many to help dispel the myth that Parisians are mean or rude. With his instructions we easily made our way to our destination. Walking down the Rue Cler, the market street where our hotel is located, even though a few raindrops fell, various sights and smells tantalized our senses. Heaps of fresh fruit were set out on stands, fresh fish waited on ice. The cheese store had an impressive window display and the wine shop was right next door to our hotel. Four flights up, not about to attempt the one person plus one bag lift that looked like a transparent coffin to me, we hoofed it. Our room was small but rich colors of brown and mauve made it feel chic. The bathroom, tiny but functional. We have a tiny window balcony, complete with a box of geraniums, that looks down on the busy market below but perhaps the best part is that we are only a few blocks from the Eiffel tower. So of course, we had to go see that gigantic iron maiden. As we approached the imposing structure, we realized if we were to climb it, we would need more fuel. Lucky for us at that moment with little warning the sky burst open in a sudden downpour of rain. Looking to take cover, we ran back about a block to a small cafe we had passed on the way. The owner welcomed us, but asked that we move deeper within the cafe to sit, because the sudden rain might bring him more customers. What a savvy business man. We split our first French meal, and omelette with potatoes, mushrooms, onions and cheese. As the clouds parted and pockets of sun peaked through we tossed back an espresso and headed for the tower. The lines for the elevators looked between one and two hours long, though we had already opted to ascend using our able bodies. We only needed to stand in line for ten minutes to get our tickets to climb to the second floor. NOTE: The first floor is many, many, many flights of iron stairs up and the second floor is as far as one can go on foot. Our quads burning furiously, we stopped at the first floor for some photo ops. You can see all of Paris at close range from this level. Greg pointed out Notre Dame, Sacre Cour, the Invalides, and more. After a sightseeing break, we braved the stairs to the second level. We emerged, calves throbbing, to the slow patter of rain. We got a few good peeks from up here but had to duck into the center for shelter. As the rain slowed, we popped back out to look at the amazing views. We opted not to take the elevator to the summit for multiple reasons, the 45 minute line that you needed to wait in (in the rain), the sardine packed status of the conveyance, and plus we were tired from our climb and had already seen the best views of Paris I could imagine. Slowly down the steps, I'm not sure how many steps there are but you are too tired to count them in the end. Somehow after this physically taxing experience we decided to try to find the Arc de Triumph. I had seen it from the tower but it was just a speck. Greg with map in hand, was sure we could find it before dinner. So we crossed the River Seine and found the Champ d' Elise. This expensive street houses the most expensive and famous cafes and stores in Paris. We passed the famous Lido movie theaters and then there it was, at the end of the boulevard. We passed through the underground tunnel to get a closer look. By the time we reached the honary flame that lit the arch, I was beat. We were both tired beyond belief, the omelette that fueled our tour climb had long since burned off, and I had a raging headache to boot. We decided to find a metro back to the hotel and then grab a late dinner. After some advil and a brief rest, we emerged after 10pm to search out a light supper. Luckily this was prime time for dinner in Paris. We found a small cafe on our street that was not at all pretentious. We ordered the risotto with asparagus and pesto to share. Our waitress didn't even bat an eye at our tiny order. She brought us a basket of bread and I'll be damned if it wasn't the creamiest most perfect risotto either of us had ever had. This sweet girl from Eastern France and of Chinese descent who happened to be our waitress, went above and beyond dispelling the grumpy French myth. She chatted to us about our travels, genuinely interested in where we had been and where we were going. In fact she was able to tempt us into dessert "to share" a small apple tart with creme fraiche. Oh, la, la! The meal while simple was lovely and memorable and by the end of it my headache was long gone. Hopefully after a long night sleep we'll be up for seeing more of the city in the morning.

In Bruges

Wednesday, 7/27

You never know what opportunities may come your way as a traveler. We've read in guide books that say one should 'just say yes' to new experiences. Today was one of those days and we were very pleased with our results. We awoke to visit the breakfast buffet at the B and B where we had all the usual fair but added to the list of goodies were squares of Belgian chocolate. Really chocolate for breakfast? No complaints here! We each ate a few pieces and I even broke some up and stirred it into my coffee. Belgian chocolate deserves its reputation, it rocks! After breakfast, Jackie said she had arranged a tour of the brewery for any guest who would like to come. We were there with bells on! It was very interesting to see all the modern machines used for bottling and to hear about the process of making the beer. Did you know it takes them three to four months to complete the process and have it ready for shipping? We also learned that the brewery actually used to have a monk come and visit to make sure they were doing it right. Also before they made beer here, they made cheese! Wise choices St. Bernardus! Back in the common room, we perused pamphlets, we really had no idea what to do with our day. It looked like it might rain, so we didn't know if we wanted to ride forty-five minutes on bikes to the Trappist Brewery Sixtus, even though they have the reputation for the best beer in the world... We were approached by a friendly pair of young guests from Philadelphia who were eager to talk beer and sightseeing with us. They were very knowledgable and seemed to have done their homework on the area. They were headed to Bruges for the day, and offered to have us ride along with them. Having just met Evan and Amanda, should we accept such a generous invitation? Why the heck not! They were friendly travelers. Amanda is a French teacher and Evan and Greg had a love of beer in common. We met them at their rental car and headed off to see the city. It is really cool that we got this chance, because otherwise we would have missed seeing so much of Belgium. The drive to Bruges was a little over an hour, and during that time we got to see hop fields, vegetable patches, Flemish farmhouses, and other small towns, as well as getting acquainted with our new friends. We arrived in Bruges just in time for lunch. Greg had only one request; must have mussels. We all know that mussels and Brussels go hand in hand, but being in Bruges was close enough. A small but expensive cafe was found down a cobbled alley that provided us with great beer and Greg with a giant crock full of mussels, with some help from the table, he finished those mollusks. Evan had to run back to the car and feed the meter so to speak, these old cities have ridiculous time limits on parking. Then we walked the city seeing the quaint squares, old churches, and charming canals. Bruges was great but it was time to feed the meter yet again, rather than walk back to the car yet another time during our visit Amanda and Evan asked if we'd like to see another town on the way back to Watou and perhaps have a light dinner there. It sounded like an excellent plan as Bruges was quite crowded with tourists and parking was such a challenge. We ended up in Ieper, which we dubbed the undiscovered Bruges. Parking was free outside of the main square, it was blessedly free of tourists (except for us), and it had one of the most impressive churches we have seen in our travels. We also found something else I had been seeking all day in Belgium, a little chocolate shop. We bought a small box of white, milk, and dark chocolate (sad to say as of writing this blog tonight we've consumed almost half of it already, but we did share with our friends). We found a small cafe that served more local beer and sandwiches. It had been a long day, but a very fun-filled adventure exploring Belgian villages with two unexpected and much appreciated fellow travelers. Greg and I arrived back at the B and B around 9pm with enough time to shower and pack for the morning. Tomorrow we leave Belgium and I feel satisfied that I supplied Greg with a sufficient sampling of beer and myself with an acceptable amount of chocolate and we have both seen a nice smattering of what Belgium has to offer.

Bedding down at the Brewery

Tuesday, 7/26

Neither Greg or I were prepared for just how much we would love the countryside of Holland, so when it came time to leave this morning, it was hard to get motivated to move too fast. Plus we had experienced another mid-night round of fireworks, once again no one knew the occasion and we had to get resettled after looking outside to see what all the commotion was. We drug ourselves out of bed listening to the morning barnyard serenade and enjoyed one last breakfast delivered to our door. Hannie always rotated in something new to keep breakfast exciting each morning. Today, three types of cereal with dried fruit was added to our bread, jam, butter, yogurt, coffee, and eggs. Finally we realized if we were going to make the train we'd have to hustle. Bags were quickly packed, animals were bid a hasty farewell, and Hannie hauled us off in her van toward the bus depot. Once at the depot we realized the bus we meant to catch for Gouda had already left. We still had enough time to make the next bus and connect with our train but it would be tight. Hannie didn't want us to have to rush, so she insisted on driving us to the train station another twenty minutes away. Wishing Hannie a fond farewell at the station, we made it to our train with plenty of time to spare. The first train of the morning took us from Gouda (locally pronounced like HOW-DA as the Dutch 'G' sounds like the 'CH' sound in the Hebrew pronunciation of Chanukah...) to Rotterdam. Since it was another day the Eurail pass would be earning it's worth, we sort of went the long way around in order to utilize to the trains, then made several different connections until we were headed in the right direction. So the first leg to Rotterdam was only about twenty minutes by train from Gouda; in fact we could see it down the river on our bike ride yesterday. Rotterdam is a town that was leveled in the bombings of World War II. Hannie had explained on one of our many car rides that when they rebuilt the city, they decided to go very modern, the sky scrapers and big buildings are very unusual for this area. I have noticed a stark difference between American and European perceptions of the permanence of that war. While in the U.S. most of our WWII vets have passed away by now and the war seems a distant memory (as it was not fought on our land most of us don't have daily reminders), here in Europe people speak of it as if it just happened last year. There is no clarification about which war, it is "the" war. The landscape and the communities are still physically scarred by it. This was most prevalent in Eastern Berlin where certain areas were only now starting to be renovated, even in the last ten years since Greg's initial visit to the area he noticed that parts of eastern Berlin that had been sort of a wasteland were just now starting to be built up again. We hope that no one will ever forget that war, the injustices that were being combatted and the atrocities that were committed, but it is a much sharper reminder for Europeans who still see the destruction it reaped on their homeland and are still trying to heal it.

Enough with the historic commentary... From Rotterdam we caught a train to Antwerp which took us across the Belgian border. More flat green expanses and farm land paved our way. Antwerp to Kotrijk was a tight transfer. We had to run up the stairs to our platform and landed in our seats, huffing and puffing as the train pulled away from the station, barely making it. From Kotrijk to Poperinge it was only another twenty minutes. The larger cities in Belgium have reminded me a bit of San Francisco in that there are lots of tall skinny buildings that are shouldered right up against each other (but certainly a much less colorful, less hilly version of S.F.) The countryside is more spread out. We arrived at Poperinge hoping to make the transfer to the Belbus. We waited and waited, it didn't come. Hmmm....Greg asked in the train station. Apparently you have to call the Belbus two hours in advance, sort of like a taxi. We'd never heard of a bus like that. Could we get a taxi? No, the town has no taxi service. So Greg gave Jackie at our B and B a call, sure enough she offered to come pick us up. This has been our lucky day. As Jackie drove us through the fields of hops, she commiserated with us about the frustrating Belbus system and said she'd help us reserve a bus for our trip back to the station. We learned that Dutch (aka Flemish, around here) and French are spoken here, but most everyone has a little English. When we arrived, we found beautiful English garden like grounds. So you know I'm loving it. We also learned that we are on the property of the Brewery, so now you know Greg is in heaven. He watched each town that passed by on the train and counted signs advertising his favorite Belgian Brews. So we will be spending two nights at the St. Bernardus Brewery. There is a main house where breakfast will be served and a common room with serve yourself beer. Our room is off the main house, in a separate wing of rooms, with little patios out front. It is a large comfy room with a giant bathroom. We learned that these rooms were converted from a part of the property that once was the cheese-making facility. They've since gone to brewing and bottling exclusively, and run a tight ship operating six days a week to supply the world with at least six unique Belgian ales. To get into the little town of Watou, we were going to require transportation. Jackie showed us a variety of bikes. The fancy new beach cruisers were for rent at 10 Euro a day, but since we were just going to dinner there were a variety of less fancy bikes that we could take for free. Super, we'll ride a free bike any day. This ended up being hilarious. The bike I tried to mount was way to tall for me, the seat was locked in place, so it couldn't be adjusted. Greg kindly traded with me and his seemed to work better as I could touch the ground with my tippy toes if we had to stop. For some reason my bike fit Greg strangely and he sort of resembled the typical clown riding a tricycle. Aside from that the bikes squeaked and rattled so on the path to town that I had the cartoon image of all of the pieces falling away and us pedaling mid-air holding onto disconnected handlebars and eventually falling into a heap of rubbish coursing through my mind. We did arrive in town after some effort on the up hill as the gears didn't really work. We were starving by the time we got to Hommel Haus. We were pleased that it looked like a really nice restaurant but unfortunately the prices reflected this as well. What the heck, we are nearing the end of our trip and this place was recommended for pairing fine Belgian Beer with cuisine. I settled on a salad with warm goat cheese and croutons, crowded with fresh berries and a honey raspberry beer dressing. It was amazingly delicious. Greg ordered the monk fish with carrot and potato puree in a lobster beer sauce. The texture of the fish was like lobster, it was all excellent, as well as the two beers we sampled. After coasting back down the path to our B and B (it was much easier riding the bikes home, as it was down hill), we spent some time in the sitting room at the B and B sampling some beer from the fridge. I can't think of a better way to end the day.

No hills, windmills, dikes, and bikes!

Monday, 7/25

When we woke this morning we were ecstatic to see blue through our skylight, which was still amid high striated clouds, but no sign of rain in the near future! The animals were singing a chorus of contented clucks and whinnies as Greg and I consumed another legendary breakfast (this time Hannie had noticed we didn't eat the meat from yesterday, so she left that out and replaced it with additional fresh boiled eggs!) I was chomping at the bit to get out the door and explore. We threw some sandwiches and some of Hannie's plums in our day pack and by 11 we were on our bikes and riding along the dike. Riding bikes here is really easy, bike lanes are everywhere and the land is so flat, there are virtually no hills. About a kilometer down the road from our B and B was a ferry station, where we were able to cross over to the other side of the river Lek. After we crossed over we biked past a variety of adorable small towns with a great variety of thatched roof houses. Greg found signs leading to a bike path that took us over cute old bridges and through pastures and past farms that led to a row of old fashioned windmills. Hannie had schooled us before we left this morning on windmills. She told us, "You will see many windmills. Some will have the wooden shoes and bikes out front. Not all of these are for tourists because people do actually live in them." Sure enough, we could see row boats docked up, laundry strung out to dry, lawn furniture, plenty of evidence that some of these windmills were residences. We did find one on Kinderdijk that was clearly labeled as a tourist sight, complete with ticket booth, and got to go inside and climb up the the many steep ladder like stairs to the top where the cogs and wheels were housed. Parts of the windmill were preserved inside to show how people long ago lived in them. Greg and I wondered how modern owners had renovated these to make them liveable. We sat near the mill to have our sandwiches and watched the proprietors attach the fabric sails to the blades of the windmill and the wind set it into motion. Lunch and a show! Back on the bikes, we made our way back across the river. When we crossed over and looked at the mile markers, we realized we were about 10 kilometer from home. This could have been a pretty quick ride back, but every 2 minutes there was another photo worthy sight. We were constantly hoping off our bikes to take a picture of that cow, or this house, or that garden! Towns with ding-donging churches, an ancient looking watch tower, charming homes and gardens, more goats, ponies, even some deer, were our distractions on the ride back. About an hour after crossing the river we finally coasted down our driveway. We had been on and off the bikes for about four hours so we needed a little rest, followed by figuring out our train/ bus schedule for tomorrow. A dinner of leftover Chinese take-out supplemented by instant noodles, plus trying to snack our way through some of the remaining groceries before we depart tomorrow, will hopefully fuel us enough to pack. It will be hard to leave since we've been so well taken care of by Hannie. Truthfully, we've had countless gracious hosts so far on this journey. Tomorrow, on to Belgium to meet another hostess with great reviews.

A day of rest

Sunday, 7/24

Sometimes you choose a day of rest and sometimes it chooses you. It rained steadily throughout the night, so we took our time and lingered over the breakfast that was delivered to the hall outside our door. Soft boiled eggs direct from the hen house (served in a hand-sewn cozy to keep them warm), fresh butter, goat cheese, breads and rolls, homemade berry and apple jam with various cheeses and meats and a large pot of coffee and fresh milk. I felt like Shirley Temple in the Little Princess when she and her friend/ fellow servant Becky are freezing cold and being kept in the attic (imagine with me people, we are in a room over the garage...sort of an attic) and a kind soul provides them with an amazing tea complete with warm rolls. Remember? Well that's how I felt and me and my Becky (a.k.a. Greg) sat and stuffed ourselves joyfully. Later that morning we tried to brave the day and took our umbrella outside, dressed in all of our warmest garments to stand in the driveway and stare at the animals beyond in the field. The cold was so severe that we were shivering, and the wind was so fierce that our umbrella was turned inside out in a matter of minutes. The rain was relentless and hitting the ground at a 45 degree angle, so that even after we righted the umbrella, it was still useless in keeping us dry. We huddled in the stairwell and Hannie joined us to declare, "Well, this is Holland." She offered to drive us to the bus station and we could tour a different town today, however the idea of going anywhere in this weather seemed dangerous to us and certainly unpleasant. The other option taking the bikes out locally would have had us soaked through in minutes. (Besides my grandma doesn't like the idea of me riding a bike in the rain, I'm sure she wouldn't be a fan of us mounting up on wheels in a storm and we aim to make grandma a happy lady!) So, we opted to stay at the farm today. Greg surprised me by eagerly starting work on the windmill puzzle. It is very cool to learn new things about your mate after five years of marriage, and today I learned that Greg is a puzzle machine! He worked constantly and strategically on the puzzle until lunch. I helped occasionally but often poked my head out the window to see how the animals were fairing in the weather. Despite the pouring rain, the horses grazed, the ducks swam, the heron fished, and the bunnies looked for shelter. We discovered two giant rabbits on the property today. They are super big; a breed called Flemish Giant! I've never seen a bunny that large, at first I thought it was a cat but in fact it dwarfed the cats. We pieced together a lunch of instant soup and cheese and apple open faced sandwiches. The storm continued to rage and Greg completed the outer circle of the puzzle. I did some yoga to warm up. When we peeked out of our room in the afternoon, Hannie had left a basket of plums just picked from her tree and kissed with dew as a rainy day afternoon snacks for us. Don't you just love her?! Finally around dinner time the storm began to slow down. Hannie volunteered to take us to pick up some Chinese Take-Out since she knew it would be too cold and wet to take the bikes out tonight. We enjoyed chatting with her on the car ride to the next town over and learned some more about her and the land. Satisfied with the most bland Chinese food we had ever had, Greg settled in to finish his puzzle. Around sunset (which wasn't until well after nine), I noticed the sun had actually made an appearance and the rain had seemingly stopped. I ran outside to visit with the geese, goats, bunnies and ducks and to take some photos not knowing if this might be my one minute in the sun to do so. Back in the room the light was growing dim, Greg was still trying to piece together the blue sky in the puzzle. All the pieces look the same, so it takes great patience to find which ones match. As he was searching out his blue sky, I was hoping that we'd see some in real life tomorrow and have a chance to explore this beautiful countryside before we have to leave. My time with the animals has been precious to me. Even watching them through the window is so entertaining. At dusk, we heard a ruckus in the hen house and peered out our bathroom window to see what was going on. The geese were being scolded for trying to come in the door by an obstreperous hen squawking on the fence, the goats (not Billy, but two others I call Hansel and Gretel) came over to investigate the scene and those two were allowed to enter the shed full of chickens without complaints from the brood. It's like a soap opera at times! With so many unique personalities there's bound to be drama. Though this was not the way we expected to spend our day in Holland, I think it is a day we will each remember fondly and it was a well needed rest from our busy and active travel schedule.

Green Acres

Saturday, 7/23

We slept in late again... the "Opium Den" sort of lends it self to that. (Don't worry, it's just another nickname we've given our Amsterdam basement room). We spent the morning listening to tragic news about Norway. Fairly sure these terrorist attacks are localized and sadly homespun, we feel safe with our remaining travels in Europe. Since our apartment owner Daniel, had said we should feel free to stay however long we wanted today, we took our time packing up, showering, charging electronic devices and set our check out time for 1pm, so we could enjoy a take out lunch in our room before heading for the train station. Our travel time today was short, only one hour by train from Amsterdam to Gouda and then 25 minutes by bus to Bergambacht. We called Hannie when we reached the bus and she was there to pick us up when we arrived. Immediately friendly and helpful, Hannie chatted with us about our travels and pointed out tidbits about Holland. She pointed out how the river was on higher ground than all the houses, basically all these farm houses are below sea level. I wish I could say that along with the beautiful landscapes we've found more beautiful weather but alas, it is still very cold and stormy. However Greg and I have managed to stay fairly dry today. We got settled in our apartment, a small studio above the garage (somewhat to our relief it is not actually in a barn loft as we had thought). We have a large bed under a sloping roof with a skylight/window (our bathroom has a matching style skylight/window), a couch with book shelves and TV and a small minibar area with a dining table. After leaving the bags in our apartment, Hannie loaned us two bikes to go into town with and get some food at the supermarket, then find dinner in town. She thought it would be inconvenient for us to have to cart our groceries to dinner, so she arranged to meet us at the market and bring our items back to the farm and drop them off in our room. This is one nice lady! So we had a cold but rain free bike ride into town, I can't tell you exactly how long our ride is (10-15 minutes, maybe?) but it is such a beautiful ride, we see all the straw thatched farm houses, beautiful animals, charming canals that crisscross the land, and the substantial waterway that separates us from a huge old fashioned windmill that we will try to visit in the next few days. We hurried into the market just as it began to rain and spent some time gathering snacks and lunch items for the weekend. As we exited, the sprinkles were stopping and Hannie was there in her car to take our bags back and wish us a happy evening. We parked our bikes at the bus station and walked into the tiny town center. It was virtually abandoned except for the main restaurant/pub which was packed with Spandex clad bikers watching the Tour de France. We enjoyed some local beer and a prawn dish with spaghetti. (Fusion food seems really big here in Holland, they serve some Italian/ Continental/ Asian and just present it with some fries and mayo and its fit for the Netherlands!) My favorite part about the food in the Netherlands thus far is the bread. Delicious billowy soft bread accompanies each meal with sweet butter or in tonight's case a tomato herb butter. It rained on and off as we enjoyed our warm meal, luckily as we headed back to our bikes it was temporarily dry again. It was a cold ride home, riding into the headwinds. Suddenly, I brought my bike to a screeching halt, something out of place had caught my eye, behind a wire fence near a bush. I shouted to Greg, "Stop! Koala!" I don't know why I said "koala" because that is not what I saw, but my mind couldn't come up with the name of the animal quick enough, plus I simply just didn't expect to see it here in Holland. What I had seen was a wallaby (one very close to the fence and a small mob off in the distance). We realized we were biking past some sort of exotic animal farm. There was an emu, some giant South American rodents called a capabara, and a tiny horned gazelle of some sort. It really threw me off to see these animals in the midst of all the cows, horses, goats, sheep, ducks, geese, and such we're growing accustomed to seeing in this area. Of course our expected animals are present, but how fun to see something so unexpected. We took a few photos of the wallaby closest to the fence, the whole time with me cooing compliments at her. Then something truly amazing happened, a small albino joey poked his head out of her pouch to have a look at us. I am in animal lover's heaven here! We continued our ride home and saw a giant Heron take flight from a light post. As we coasted back into the driveway, I made salutations to the sheep in the front yard. Hannie came out to make sure we had enjoyed our dinner and to help us park our bikes in the garage. We had one more question for her, did she know of any laundry mats we could visit. No she didn't, but we could use her machine, she even helped us get it started. Hannie is the best, she even added fabric softener to our load, a luxury we haven't had since leaving home. Back in our room, with what we hope will be our final load of laundry while in Europe brewing down stairs, we enjoyed the view out our back window. At 9:30 it was still bright out. There are animals galore on this farm. First there are the cats named Puma and Tiger. (We met Puma when we arrived, a lovey black cat who was keeping our couch warm for us and Tiger, a stripey girl, introduced herself by making a funny racket when it started to rain outside again). We have not been formally introduced to the horses yet but I can see them from the living room window. Of course I've given them all nicknames. The white one is Star Shine. There are 6 brown horses; Nutmeg, Cinnamon, Anise, Clove, Mace, and Allspice. (Devon, Greg said if you wanted to borrow any of those as possible baby names for Chuck, feel free!) A white goat shares real estate with the horses, for lack of creativity after naming all those horses, I call him Billy. (But I say it with an Irish accent like from the movie Billy Elliot. When the goat cavorts away from a gust of rainy air, tossing his goatee in the wind, I shout, "Go Billy!") In addition, there are two geese. I call them Cranky and Fussbudget. (More possible baby names Devon, I'm telling you I'm full of 'em today!) There are also a slew of ducks, too many to name so far. I am loving this place! While we do have TV here, I have other plans for tonight. I found a 500 piece windmill puzzle on our bookshelf and I am bound and determined to get Greg to help me put it together. Let's just hope all the pieces are there, wish us luck!

A few more nights in the North

To the North Sea

Tuesday, 7/19

After a brief visit to the breakfast buffet (and constructing a back-up sandwich for the train), it was time to head back to the station. Today we would be traveling to Wilhelmshaven near the North Sea. I've been looking forward to this seaside vacation. While in Berlin, Winnie warned Greg,"Did you tell her about the town, so she won't be disappointed?" I'm pretty sure she was referring to the small size of the town and the total lack of anything to do there. At this point in the trip, having nothing to do for a few days sounded pretty great. Depending on the weather, we may spend some time on the strand, or simply enjoying the view from our hotel. We shall see. During our train ride today the clouds were high, white and billowy over the fields of wheat and corn, rain did not look imminent but we were hours from our final destination. On the first leg of our trip from Hamburg to Bremen, we found seats in a nice compartment in first class. Today we are without reservations but our pass allows us to sit in first class if there are open seats. The benefit to traveling with reservations is you have a seat with a number and you know you'll have a place to sit. The down side is you must travel on a very non-flexible schedule. Today we have flexibility but no guarantee of our seating arrangements. We were a bit nervous about that because yesterday Greg saw pass holders sitting in the aisle in second class, because they didn't have a reservation. (We did because our travel consultant had urged us to get them for that train). Today it was suggested that reservations were not needed, so we are going on her word and hoping for the best. I am really proud of Greg's German language skills. Today he had a conversation with an older lady in our compartment and seemed so at ease conversing. I could only comprehend tidbits of their conversation, so when he translated for me I was so impressed by how clearly he had understood her. So the trains moved quickly, just 45 minutes to Bremen, another 30 to Oldenburg, then just under an hour to Wilhelmshaven. (We had no trouble getting seats on each leg of the journey!) We arrived around lunch time and didn't even have need of the emergency sandwich. Instead we stopped at a restaurant just outside of the train station and had some pasta and pizza. We had looked at the map and expected about a 20 min. trek to the hotel. Luckily we had paused for that lunch pit stop because when we reached the bridge to cross over to our hotel, 20 min. later, it was out. While most of the bridges in this area are drawbridges and this one was not an exception, it was not just merely in it's swiveled state to let a boat pass. A large chunk of the bridge was dismantled and locked in the open position in the middle of the channel. Greg asked a passerby about another way to cross the water, she explained there was another bridge but it was quite a hike (apparently the bridge we were at had been in this construction stage for over 2 years already, but Google maps doesn't know that). So we walked, backpacks and all, along the strand, over the bridge, along the opposite shore to arrive at our hotel another hour later. (Reminding each other along the way to enjoy the sights of the bay and ignore the weight of our bags.) Though we did stop for 2 short back breaks, we were fairly tired and sore when we arrived. Soon after we dropped our bags in our room, all of the tribulations of the trip were forgotten. Our room is bright, luxurious, and we have a beautiful view from our balcony. The uniqueness of this particular town at the North Sea is that several miles out to sea there are a ring of islands. For some reason the tide creeps in past them filling the bay area between the shore and the islands very slowly and then emptying slowly. Each day the water should be full up to our shore line and then ebb out leaving solid earthen paths to the islands and then refill. These tides supposedly complete their cycle every six hours. I was doubtful as it was high tide when we arrived near 6pm. But as we watched, sure enough more rocks appeared, slowly ripples of land emerged, just like someone pulled the plug in a really big bathtub! Dinner was a unexpected as well, even though we are pretty good at figuring out the basic idea of the items on a menu, there are often misinterpretations on our part leading to surprises. For instance, Greg ordered crab and eggs. While he knew he'd get scrambled eggs, we were surprised when tiny reddish shrimp covered the plate. Apparently the word for crab refers to all sorts of crabs and this tiny shrimp like creature in this region. So what to do after dinner, yet another walk? Yes, we had mostly recovered from our backpack walk several hours ago and were able to enjoy a slow stroll along the shore, watching crabs scurry on the rocks and birds dive into the water to retrieve their own dinner. After our stroll, back to the room to peek out the balcony and watch the waters recede until midnight, when the whole process will begin again.

Wilhelmshaven

Wednesday, 7/20

This morning we got to observe what good weather is in Wilhelmshaven. Our hotel owner had bragged we would have good weather today, so we were excited. Maybe we would layout, go for a swim, rent a Strandkorb (literally, a beach basket; a North sea equivalent to a lounge chair for two with a canopy). Well, it turns out good weather simply means a lack of rain. It was still overcast, cold, and breezy. So instead of a beach day, we settled for a museum morning. We went to the Wattenmeer museum to learn more about the tides, sea birds, fish and other sea creatures of the area. We learned how crabs were historically harvested here. We also got to see a cuttlefish bury itself in the sand (there were many aquarium like displays). There was also a great view of the beach (a panorama walk on the roof and huge windows inside) so we got to see more of the tidal magic while staying warm. It was a fun and educational morning. We grabbed a quick fish lunch at our hotel. After lunch and a brief rest, I felt the urge to go for a run. I had to question why this was the first time I was really feeling like running since we left Italy. It is true that it is sometimes hard to find a safe place to jog away from traffic when you don't know an area well, but more than anything I think I've been too physically exhausted to consider it. Austria was a whirlwind for us 3 cities in 3 days and lots of walking with on and off rain. We also walked our butts off in Munich and in the small towns that followed. In Berlin, we walked constantly and it seemed like the stairs were never ending (up and down 4 flights to the apartment, on and off the U-bahn). We took our long hike in Denmark and then our hour plus trek to find this place while hauling the luggage just yesterday. So I guess I've been getting way more exercise than I usually get at home. Nonetheless today I had some energy to spare and a long paved sidewalk along the shore. At first I felt like I got strange looks from the walkers and bikers I passed like, "Where are you running to, what's the hurry? Why so fast?" It is true I didn't see many other joggers. I did pass a soldier who tipped his hat at me and one other lady taking a jog, which made me feel less strange. It seemed that the majority of people out for a stroll, were doing so for pleasure, not for exercise. The only exercise I did see happening were a group of older Germans (ages 65-85, would be my guess). I called them the swimming cap brigade. They all gathered (men and women) at an outdoor shower near the water. Waded into the sea and swam slowly between a few buoys for about 15 minutes, then reconvened in the showers to chat and rinse off. No modesty in this group either, one lady of at least 70 had worked off the straps of her one piece and was chatting away with her friend as she absentmindedly put on a dry t-shirt. Still modest myself, I looked away before she removed the bottom half. All I could think was good for them! Finished with exercise for the day Greg and I got an ice cream and being that it was still pretty chilly out, returned to the room to warm up. The sun began to timidly shine through the clouds calling us to the sea side, just bits of blue sky penetrated the thick layer of white clouds. One more fish dish for dinner (this time with rice and tomato sauce, oh long forgotten rice!) and our first gay server in Germany. Oh man, that made me homesick, other than clandestine big city sightings, we've been really missing the LGBT community here in Europe. When our waiter learned we came from California his eyes lit up, "Oh, the state of the sun!" he declared. "I need to go there." He explained that he dances ballet and had traveled with a group to Michigan. Only two days by this murky but delightful cloud ridden sea side and we understood why the thought of LA could put a gleam in his eye. I realized comparing German ice cream to Italian gelato was just not working out in the German's favor, so perhaps we should try something else for dessert. Apricot cheesecake with cream, possibly the most amazing cheese cake I've had thus far in my life! Now the German's are leading the dessert game! Our waiter returned, "Any more wishes?" I loved the phasing of this and Greg explained that's just the direct translation in German for ,"Do you want anything else?" But isn't the former far more poetic? Alright, no more wishes for tonight, I've already had my fill of deliciousness for the day. Now it is time to retire to our room, snuggle in deep beneath warm comforters, search for patches of blue sky out the balcony window, and watching the water retreat to reveal fingers of shore that were not there an hour before. Sweet dreams from Wilhelmshaven!

Amsterdam bound

Thursday, 7/21

We awoke on the early side knowing we needed to eat breakfast, pack, travel back to the station, and visit an ATM before our train left at 10:45. After yogurt, cereal, eggs and coffee had fortified us we considered walking back to the station (the buses weren't running during the 9 o'clock hour so our choices were few). Knowing the walk would take us at least 40 minutes and leave little time to visit the back and grab some lunch to take on the train, we opted to call a taxi. We had made it thus far in our trip without the aid of a taxi, as we had mostly been avoiding them because of the high cost compare to public transit. However we were very pleased that for only 8 Euro we were whisked to the station in under ten minutes, saving us an exhausting walk and giving us plenty of time to prep for the train. We stocked up on Euro and grabbed a sandwich for the train. Since it was our last morning in Germany we also permitted ourselves some pastry for second breakfast. I finally got to try a Berliner (the famous jelly donut, well know throughout the north). Our first train took us from Wilhelmshaven to Osnabruck in about two hours. We easily found 2 seats and space for our luggage. Greg is devouring book 3 of our series on the Kindle, so I napped and caught peeks of more cow pastures and farm land out the window,while polishing off our pastry. In Osnabruck, we had about an hour to wait for our connection to Hilversum, which would take us across the German border. This time our trip was slightly over two hours, but this leg of our trip had a reservation, so our spots were in 1st class. This seemed a long hall, but we did notice the German accent of the conductor switch after a short stop, and we were getting Dutch, German, and English translations all with a very different drawl. So we must be in the Netherlands. No passport check, but we started to spot the occasional straw thatched roof on the farm stead, different cows, goats, pigs, sheep, and horses made appearances as we neared our final transfer to Amsterdam. When we spilled out of the packed station onto the tourist clogged streets, I felt a bit short of breath at first. We had just come from a city that was so uncrowded and now the reverse was true. I was experiencing sensory overload; so many cars, so many bikes, strange people, lingerie ladies in windows, the sweet and smokey aroma from the corner coffee house mixed with the overwhelming oder of so many puffing cigarettes cut only by the stench of trash from bags lining the streets, YIKES! Plus, we have been a bit anxious about our accommodations. Our original accommodations had been to stay in a different apartment, but during the course of our European tour we received an e-mail from the coordinating company through whom we had made the arrangement letting us know that "Fred" had been leasing out his apartment without the knowledge of the city, he was in trouble and had to stop renting, but they had another apartment available for us. A little sketched out by Fred's irresponsible renting, we hoped the other apartment would be as affordable, centrally located and well appointed as the one we had originally rented. The company, Amsterdam Stay, sent us a link with photos, the price was the same, the neighborhood the same, so we decided to go ahead with the new rental. Very glad we did, it is a cozy little den on the basement level, no windows, except for the front door. The owner, Daniel, was very helpful, letting us know the low down on our neighborhood. We truly are in the heart of the city, we are on the canal, only steps from all Amsterdam has to offer. The apartment is the perfect place to hideaway from the bustling city, then when you want it you just pop out of your little hobbit hole and there it is. Daniel bragged that people have excellent sleep down here because they don't know if it is day or night outside. The furniture is comfy, the walls are purple and yellow (but it works), we have a kitchenette, nice bathroom and big ol' king size bed in this studio apartment. We stowed our bags and braved the city again to find some breakfast items to stock our mini kitchen with. Then we circulated through the city central to find some dinner. We found a cafe with daily specials and ordered a bowl of minestrone and the shrimp pasta that was beautifully spicy with garlic (an aromatic I really missed in Germany). From the safe, second story perch of this cafe, the city started to grow on me. I could filter all the new input and sort it. Look so many different types of bikes crowd the canal, that is cool. Such a diverse spill of tourists walk the streets, again cool. Ah, two street sweeping vans and humans who dismount to physically sweep the streets, perhaps the roads won't seem so dirty after dinner. Now home to enjoy peaceful sleep in our tomb like room.

Sleeping in, then Exploring

Friday, 7/22

We did sleep like the dead in our warm little basement room. We awoke, like hibernating bears, groggy and hungry. Greg figured out how to use the odd coffee press and we enjoyed a slow paced morning of Dutch dubbed TV. We crawled out of our hole in search of some sights and were greeted by another frigid overcast day here in the north. I had to see the Anne Frank house, though I knew we wouldn't wait in the line to actually go in. It was wrapped around the block and down an alley, but we did see the building. Along the way we encountered a cheese shop, a chocolate shop and a bakery. We looked at wheels of Dutch cheese, some of my favorite Gouda varieties were there, but they were only selling them in huge chunks, nothing that Greg and I could consume alone in the next few days of travel. The chocolates were also beautiful to look at but expensive. The pastries won out, we found a corner store that was selling small pancakes (these turned out to be more the shape and size of doughnut holes but did have the consistency one would expect of pancakes and were served with syrup and butter). After more walking through the town center we had crossed Dam square and witnessed many street performers perfecting their art. Our first pancakes were just a snack, so we were seeking lunch... more pancakes! This time savory with mushrooms, bacon and cheese. Our walk home led us through the red light district and amid sex shops, video arcades, and live shows were the typical girls in the windows, advertising their wares. We were both surprised that we popped out the next alley, we were back on our street. The whole time we had been less than a block from the famed district, with no clue we were so close. What a difference a block makes in this town. After a brief rest, we were ready for dinner. This meal was a cheese lovers dream! We had fondue with soft bread, carrots, celery, cauliflower, broccoli, mushrooms, and French fries for dipping. I was in cheese heaven! While I am usually the one to push for an after dinner walk, Greg was the one taking the reins tonight. He wanted to check out a nearby island. This was a nice walk because as we headed out of the city center, the crowds thinned, the sidewalks cleaned up, the city even smelled better even! We crossed many bridges and basically walked to the end of the line, until there was only water to look out upon. A long walk back wound us around past the train station, past a few more prostitutes and finally home to our cozy apartment, which is nicknamed "The Snug". My feet are throbbing from all the walking but I think we saw a great amount of this city over the past day and a half. When we slipped of our shoes and flipped on the news we learned about the attacks in Norway. If anyone at home is worried about us being in Northern Europe, please rest assured we are fine. Norway is quite a space away from us. Tomorrow we head to the countryside and start our journey south. We will be out of touch for a few days, as we doubt the farm house we will be living in has Internet. Hopefully we'll enjoy some quiet and relaxation after all the hype of the big city.

Stop-over in Hamburg

Monday, 7/18

This morning was about finding what we American's call a Danish. We found small shop with fresh pastry in many varieties and deemed ourselves successful at eating a Danish made by Danes while in Denmark. Before we knew it, it was time to saddle ourselves with those familiar backpacks once again and hike to the station. As we waited for our train to arrive, we watched local children play with a model train set in the center of the waiting area. We are not sure if our perception of this is correct, but Denmark seems to be very child centered. It seemed like every third woman you passed on the street is expecting and new parents pushing prams are just as numerous. This led us to wonder if there is some sort of amazing state aid for parents or maternity/ paternity leave that is standard in this country. We have had a great deal of fun people watching on our trip and Denmark has been no exception. In a sea of dark clouds, the white haired Danes stood out even more brightly than usual perhaps. We were in awe of how many blondes we saw who had that platinum, nearly translucent hair. (Reminded me so much of my cousin Nicolle's hair when she was a kid, white as the driven snow). Another thing to mention about Denmark is the language. There were pieces we could understand using German as a guide but mostly it was totally foreign to us. Greg had found a Spanish to Danish dictionary on the shelf in our room but that only managed to provide us with our pleases and thank yous that we are pretty sure we said incorrectly. Greg was fascinated by the language and would love to learn it but feels it would be pretty difficult.

Anyhow saying so long to Denmark, we boarded our train for Hamburg. We were pretty certain we could get some pasta for lunch on the train, poor quality microwave pasta, but a warm meal anyhow. So this is where I warn all future European travelers, do not trust the train to provide similar concessions on rides of similar length. All that was offered on this train were chips and muesli bars. It is because of this inconsistent unpredictable supply of food on the train that I have taken to making sandwiches from the breakfast buffet when we have one available the morning before a trip. I cut open a roll and smear it with some marmalade or jam, insert a few slices of cheese and presto, instant free lunch! Unfortunately there was no buffet this morning in Denmark, but luckily we had a apple and some cookies in our day bag to round our lunch of potato chips and a grain bar, but it was barely enough sustainance to get us through our four and a half hour journey. Fortunately with some good books to distract us (I now have Greg hooked on reading the Overlander series as well, he's already on book 3!) and more beautiful scenery than one can measure, our time went by relatively quickly. We were also entertained by the fact that our seats were in the first car only a stone's through from the conductor. (We could have thrown stones at him from where we sat but he kept closing his door to navigate in private. Too bad; we'd have liked to see more of the equipment, bells, and whistles that he uses... though it was sometimes disconcerting to hear a cell phone ringing, distracted driving?, and then lots of laughter coming from behind those sliding doors. How many people fit up in that area anyways?!). On this trip we had seats that were facing forward which was nice, because on the way up to Denmark we were riding backwards the whole time. This resulted in me feeling like I was being dragged backwards while sitting at dinner that night, a rather disorienting feeling. Happy to be facing the right direction, we enjoyed encountering pockets of pouring rain and staying completely dry and later witnessing a gigantic rainbow.

When we finally reached Hamburg it was nearly 7pm, relatively warm and dry! Our hotel was a short five minute walk from the station, a basic three star with clean modern decor. Depositing our bags in the room, we went in search of dinner. We found a simple pub that served hearty food. I was feeling thrilled that after spending two days in a country where I had to ask for an English menu to understand what was offered, back in Germany I could understand at least half of the words on the original menu. I was feeling relieved, comfortable, and at home. Greg was delighted that he could communicate with the waitress without having to resort to English. He enjoyed a plate of seasoned potatoes and fried eggs and I had the spinach auflauf (an augratin style baked dish). After finishing our meals, we wanted nothing more than enjoy some much needed grooming in the large bright white immaculate bathroom that was conveniently in our room, rather than down a steep flight of stairs as it had been for the past few nights. Sleep came quickly to the tired travelers and yet another day in our journey came to a close.

Demark Bound

Saturday, 7/16

Morning came way too quickly and it was time to pack our backpacks and leave beloved Berlin. After grabbing one more cappuccino in the cafe at the base our apartment tower, we were loaded up and headed for the S-bahn. Only two stops away, we were at the giant main train station once again consulting departure boards and finding our gate. Our train departed by 11:30. We found our reserved seats on the train and instead of being side by side, we are one in front of the other in a single row by the window. While this is good for reading and catching up on the blog, not the easiest way to chat with your hubby. We noticed for the first hour of the trip the seats behind us faced each other and were not reserved, so we borrowed them to share our lunch and a chat. When the train stopped in Hamburg, we moved back to our original seats. I've done quite a bit of reading on my Kindle this trip, I wish I could say I was reading a classic, or even a romance novel, but always a teacher at heart I've been reading the Overlander series (a book you'd find in the young adult section). I have to say I'm quite hooked. I've just finished book 4 of 5 and I'm trying to linger over book 5 for these next few long train rides. (Today's trip will be about seven hours when all is said and done). About an hour outside of Hamburg, the north Germany landscape started changing from forests with thin trunked Aspens and Pines to more farmland and even suburban areas. There was one particular vantage we had, atop a steel bridge where we looked down on an adorable little town where all the houses were tiny but had elaborate and neatly kept gardens. Circles of planted flowers, rows of lettuce, and neatly trimmed grasses and shrubs painted a charming picture of how the inhabitants of this town must spend a fair amount of time in their fenceless gardens chatting with neighbors and toiling in the soil. Then we were back in the countryside again, with vast stretches of green grasses and immature corn crops dancing in the breeze with modern white wind turbines spinning in the distance. Somewhere along the way we noticed the flags that flew near rustic farm houses changed their colors and after a very long train ride we arrived in Aarhus.

We wove our way through city streets, pedestrian zones, and finally a sleepy neighborhood, where we found our room. As instructed we rang the bell at house number 48 and in time a man appeared and showed us our room next door in 50. We entered from the street and our bathroom is at the base of very steep and narrow stair case. Our room is perched above the stairs with a tiny bed in an alcove, book shelves, chairs and table and a desk right under our dormer window looking down on the cobbled street below. We have a kitchen, which I fondly refer to as a coffee closet. It is a sloping storage room with a sink (cold water only), mini-fridge, and a tiny counter top with a coffee machine. Back in our room, black and white family photos decorate the walls and the high pitched ceiling contains a loft that no doubt used to house an even smaller mattress, but the ladder to reach that loft complete with skylight is wedged behind a bookcase. (Of course I'm already thinking about how I can climb up there and read, and perhaps if the rain continues I shall). Another note is that since the train arrived in Aarhus, we've had sprinkles. After settling our tab, as the owners are leaving for their summer home by the sea and hoping for better weather, Greg and I wandered off to find a bank machine and retrieve some of the local cash, Danish Kroner or crowns. (Luckily our host let us pay him in Euro). Denmark is one of the few places we are traveling where we need to get a different currency and being that we are only here for two nights, we didn't want to get too much and have leftovers we could not use elsewhere. Though different kinds of money can be cute and fun keepsakes, they are also expensive and useless souvenirs. Taking into account that our room cost was either 1000 DK or 135 Euro (and we thought the Dollar was doing bad!) we figured 300 DK was a good start. However as we walked along the waterway, checking out menus at local cafes, the price conversions began to dawn on us; 25 to 38 DK for coffee, 55 for a sandwich, 85 for a burger, and 200+ for a meal... 300 DK was little more than 30 Euro. In addition, the general price of things even after conversion is quite expensive. So I guess we'll be withdrawing some more, luckily many restaurants take credit cards so I think we'll manage. We found a cafe that served traditional Danish food with a modern twist. I am finding Danish food to be truly unique and am having a hard time comparing it to anything familiar, but I will try. We ordered an open faced fish sandwich. It was basically rye bread piled high with a pan seared fish, mountains of bay shrimp, lettuce, white asparagus, curry mayo and a dollup of caviar. We also tried the mussels in cream sauce, which were the freshest we've ever had and delicious. For desert we sampled the apple trifle. If you imagine the best homemade chunky cinnamon apple sauce you've ever had (think Marie Calendars times 100) then layer it with whipped cream, crumbled cookies and a drizzle of hazelnut sauce in a tall parfait glass, then you've got it. Dinner was super and our waitress was the best, bringing us tastes of local specialties like marinated herring on rye bread with curry mayo (she told us this type of sandwich is very typically Danish, so we could taste it but not have to order the whole thing, as it is an acquired taste). She also went out of her way to write down suggested activities and bus routes to help us get around tomorrow. After our lovely meal, Greg was regretting that we only have two nights in this delightful country as he had already discovered two delicious local beers!

It was 21:50 and 21 degrees when we left our cafe. I'm getting used to the military time in Europe but the Celsius temp is harder to adjust to, it makes it seem way colder than it is. Greg says that 21c is a cool, but quite comfortable temp, as that is around where he set the thermostats in the car and our rooms that have had A/C. Among wide spread, slow falling raindrops, we circulated through the town. It is slow to get dark this far north so by 10pm it was just starting to get dimmer. We saw an amazing church with a roof top that had turned a greenish blue, probably once bright copper, and impressive spires. The rise and fall of the roof peaks step up and down in a jagged, squared off manner instead of the usual straight diagonal lines. Greg compared them to a pixilated digital image, which caught him off guard at first when reviewing the photos we took. Stumbling across to the theater, whose great stained glass windows shone with warm light from inside, we wished we were going to be here in September for their showing of Hamlet. Atop the highest apex of the roof was a creature that I'd call a small dragon but Greg called a demonic gargoyle. We really enjoy debating architecture in light of our degenerating eyesight. After hearing a bit of music from the last day of a Jazz festival (that just happened to be in town) and some from local pubs, we realized night life might be a bit limited, especially as we saw a man selling tickets to a dance party in his back garden off the main alley. Needing some breakfast groceries for our fridge, we stopped by the 7-11 (first one we've seen in Europe). One of the few places that was open aside from bars and restaurants, this place proved to be the most happening joint in town. So much so that a bouncer-type security guard formed a line at the door and not until a few guests filtered out would he allow the next throng to enter. Juice and yogurt in hand, it was back to our room in the roof to share the tiny bed and hope we don't bump our head on the sloping ceiling if we wake with a start.

Denmark in a Day

Sunday, 7/17

A gentle rain fell this morning, as we lingered in the strangely comfortable little bed. Our waitress from last night had warned us that most everything in Aarhus would be closed on Sunday, but we were armed with her list of the few exceptions and headed off to see the surrounding area. There was a steady rain falling as we left our room, but by the time we had crossed the waterway a wicked wind was blowing. Then the torrential rains began. It seemed to be raining sideways and blowing directly into our fronts, soaking our jeans in a matter of moments. Our umbrellas were threatening to turn inside out from the powerful gusts so we ducked into a coffee house to take cover. We decided to regroup, going into the forest in this weather was not going to be wise. What could we do in Aarhus on a rainy day? It was just then I remembered that Ruby, a former student of mine who lived in this town for nearly a year, had mentioned that one of her favorite museums was nearby. We checked our small map and sure enough it was only a few blocks away. Warmed by the cappuccino and chocolate croissants, we were ready to brave the pouring rain once more, knowing that a dry destination was in our future. The ARoS museum proved to be the perfect place to spend a rainy morning in Aarhus. (Thanks Ruby!) We actually got to see the entire museum, all 7 levels, in about 2 hours. We hung our wet coats and umbrellas in the cloak room and when we returned they were not only still there, but warm and dry! (We hoped it was safe to leave our outer garments unattended but being that I've rarely seen a bike locked up here and bikes clutter every sidewalk, we figured it was safe.) The art work was mostly modern, which we really enjoyed. I think by seeing the world through the eyes of artists we are really privy to how strange, beautiful, and complicated we are as human beings. It has been a long time since I have walked in the world of modern art and was really impressed at how multi-media is being used to its fullest by today's artists. For instance we walked into one room that was just full of white steam, you couldn't see your hand in front of your face, which was illuminated by slowly changing colors. It created a feeling of claustrophobia and wonder all at the same time. Then there was the room of mirrors which were on the floor, ceiling and walls and gave you the impression that you could fall into infinity and find yourself on each level. Creative and funny sculptures, films and murals, photos of men and women ages 0-100 in sequence, I can't begin to tell you all we saw. There was also this panoramic walk on the roof of the museum. It was like a circular covered bridge, glassed in, but as you walk around the panes of glass change color gradients creating a rainbow spectrum effect on the view of the city below and your fellow art lovers inside. However, of all the exhibits we saw, I was most impressed with a sculpture called "the boy", which the museum is kind of famous for. It is the crouching figure of a pubescent boy, completely to scale but enlarged to a GIANT sized proportion. The details are so realistic, like the veins in his legs, human-like hair, shining eyes, creases in his elbows, and the toes bent at the joints as if he is gripping the floor to hold his balance. It is almost frightening how real he seems. I wanted to stare at it forever and figure out how the artist had that idea and actually brought it to fruition.

Sufficient to say we had a marvelous time at the museum, and when we emerged the rain had nearly stopped. After walking through the whole museum, we were hungry, so we headed back to our favorite cafe to grab a bite. Right before we arrived, a down pour started up again, but while we were inside enjoying another open faced sandwich, the clouds actually parted and sun emerged. Having seen a weather forecast while having our coffee that morning, we knew that the afternoon clearing was supposed to lead to no rain in the evening. So we decided to brave the forest after all. Ruby had spoken so highly of the forest near this city, that I have to credit her with this idea, as well. Since we didn't know exactly how to get there though, it was our favorite waitress who directed us to take the bus to Moesgard museum, which has a forest surrounding it. After about twenty minutes on the bus, we were neatly deposited just up the road from the entrance to the museum. This time we decide to skip the entry fee and the displays and just enjoy the grounds, after all we needed to take advantage of the partial sun to dry our jeans. We found a beautiful meadow behind the main building and followed a path from there to some ancient burial grounds. We occasionally met horses, cows and goats in fields and even came across a restaurant with a working mill wheel. For the next two hours we enjoyed purposefully getting lost in the woods of Denmark. Don't worry, we didn't go off trail, nor did we not know how to get back to where we had come from, we just didn't know what our destination was and didn't much care. There were Beech trees (and I think Birch and Alder), ferns and foliage galore, wild strawberry plants and raspberry thickets. I saw a type of giant black slug (and brown ones too) that I've never seen before. They were up to four inches long and half an inch think, their necks were smooth and slimy but their tails were bumpy and striated, looking sort of like a morel mushroom. They had a star like structure on their tail near where they secreted their slime trial. You might think slugs are gross (usually I do) but these were quite majestic. Really the whole experience was magical, the songs of birds unfamiliar to me, new breeds of beetles, new textures of mud. We finally headed back to the bus, but not before Greg snagged a ride on the zipline in the abandoned playground. Once back on the bus, we realized how thoroughly exhausted we were. What a full day we had enjoyed here in Aarhus! We were so proud that we had managed to see so much, despite the weather. More exhausted than hungry we shared a salad and some bread for dinner and headed home to rinse off the mud and fall into a clean dry bed. As sleep tugs at our eyelids, I think we really need to give Ruby credit because if it wasn't for her insisting that we should visit Denmark on our European tour we would have most likely missed this city completely. Thanks again, Ruby. Hopefully next time we are here it is with you by our side as our tour guide. For tonight, we are going to bed with the sun, to hopefully awake well rested to travel back to Germany for a few days.