Book Ends for Month 9

Hey.

Russ is writing the post about the Andrews Sibiling Hoorah that took place last month. I am writing about what happened before and after. And since I am (once again) horribly late, I will be (once again) keeping this short.

So, without further ado, here's some of the stuff that happened in Month 9.

CAMPING TRIP:

The men-folk of our Luxemtribe made the daring decision to go walk-about with most of the kids. Only the toddlers stayed home with the Moms. The Dads and kiddos ate tin foil dinners and smores, listened to creepy stories, and slept (sort of) in tents. The Ladies ordered a mountain of Indian food and stayed up late at Becky's for "girl talk" and nail painting.

Tasha made sure I had the opportunity to participate fully in the whole experience.

The next morning, the two groups rendezvoused at Beaufort Castle. The women-folk got there first.

After storming the castle, including taking a jaunt into the torture chamber, we headed over to a nearby lake for picnic lunches and playing on the playground. Everyone survived! Three cheers for the Luxemtribe!

TRIP TO THE NETHERLANDS WITH KIERNAN:

Technically, this is part of the Andrews Sibling Hoorah, but Russ wasn't there, so I'm calling dibs. After bidding Marshall and Lauren a fond adieu in Brussels, Kier and I drove out to Kinderdijk. We scoped out the musuem, rode the boat up the canal, toured the windmills, and walked back along the footpath.

I am enamored with the 2nd windmill's farm. I want to live there. Goats, apple trees, a vegetable patch, a chicken coop... I could even possibly get behind the little white bonnets and wooden shoes. However, I am neither tall enough nor blonde enough to fit in with my would-be Netherlander brethren. So, I'll stick with taking way, way too many pictures.

Afterwards, we went to lunch at a nearby restaurant. The menu was in Dutch, and my translation app was... less than helpful. Take a look at these Dutch delicacies:

We chose a few things at random and were rewarded with plates of fried gravy balls and the world's most overcooked chicken wings.

And then it was off to AMSTERDAM.

A couple of things.

1. Compared to the overflowing mass of humanity that was my Easter trip, Amsterdam was much more enjoyable this time around. You still had to actively try NOT to get hit by bikes, but this time, there weren't so many people at intersections that those in the front were being pushed to their doom.

2. They have public urinals in the main tourist squares. Like, in the MIDDLE OF THE SQUARE. I thought this was odd. Kiernan thought this was further proof of Netherlands' "They're Going to Do it Anyway; Let's Make the Best of It" attitude. I think she's probably right.

3. Albert Cuyp Markt: street market stretching down as far as the eye can see. Spices, cheap clothing, kitchen gadgets, jewlery, and food! We had tiny poofy pancakes, adventurous grilled cheeses (mine was cheese, Peanut Butter, and apples), and roasted chicken. I could have stayed there all day.

4. Vincent Van Gogh Museum: I'm a fan. Kier is a fan. Seriously cool museum. Side note: the museum has plain wooden booths you can sit in if you feel you're suffering from a touch of Stendhal Syndrome. This malady can turn art-viewing tourists into art-destroying terrorists, or at the very least leave you with rapid heartbeat, dizziness, confusion and even hallucinations. So, you've been warned. Safety first, friends.

5. Idiot moment of the trip: Trying to pay for parking.

As we were leaving the stadium parking lot where we'd left the car, I took the ticket to the machine to go pay. The machine stalled out mid-transaction, so I hit cancel, the machine spit out my ticket, and I walked over to the help booth. A very kind, strongly-accented attendant and I had the following conversation:

Him: Where is your ticket?

Me: This is my ticket.

Him: No, this is a receipt saying the transaction was stopped.

Me: Oh. It must still be in the machine?

(Nice man blinks once, comes out, and walks across the garage to the payment machine with me. He sorts out the location of my ticket.)

Him: Where is your card?

Me: My credit card?

Him: No, your transit card.

Me: Here it is.

Him: No, that is not it.

Me: (desperately digging through pockets) How about this one?

Him: No. You need to use your (insert word I did not understand) for validation.

Me: (blankly) Maybe it's in the car.

At this point, it's dawning on me that I've made a mistake. Apparently, my ticket is meant for a specific group. Park and Recreation employees? Commuters? Either way, I'm supposed to have a city transit card to show that I'm using the stadium parking lot as a Park and Ride to get into the city. Somehow--perhaps it is my shortness, my total lack of Dutch, or the panic that's growing on my face--the man realizes that I am not a local commuter. He does not call me on it. Instead, he reaches into his pocket, retrieves his own Parks and Recreation badge, and beeps it on the machine. My total drops to 2 Euros. My original total was 30x that. I stammer out an embarrassed thank you, and he heads back to his booth. And like an idiot, I put the same credit card back into the machine. The machine starts to stall out. I shriek and hit cancel. Muttering under my breath, I feed the machine a 2 Euro coin, collect my validated ticket, and run for the car before I get arrested for impersonating a Parks and Recreation employee.

I am never going to be smooth while living in Europe.

#star #visitors #travel #update