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Europe Journal, Part 1
12 years ago
General
Hey, guys!
You may have been wondering where I've been for the past 3 weeks. Well, I was in Europe, traveling through The Netherlands, Belgium, and France. Sit back and allow me to recount the whole experience for all y'all.
WARNING: WALLS OF TEXT AHEAD!
Day 1 – Thursday, March 21:
The day started off well enough. Woke up at around 6-ish, PDT, to some scrambled eggs and bacon. I had made sure that as many people knew I would be traveling out of the country for the next few weeks, be they family or close friends, and certainly potential employers. You all know who you are who I managed to reach in time.
Anyway, we left the house at about 10 AM to pick up friends of ours, Jim and Evie, and made a stop at my Aunt's to pick her up and drove to the airport at Sea-Tac. We had to wait in Security for about 10 minutes, and had Ivar's for lunch. Afterward, we headed to our airplane at the South Satellite, arriving at about 1:30 PM.
Then things got...interesting. Our plane was scheduled to leave at about 2:35, but it was about 10 minutes later that we actually backed out from the gate. But then, the real fun began. (/sarcasm) We'd barely moved maybe 20 feet before they brought us back to the gate, saying there was an electrical problem. About half an hour later, the captain then told us that the plane's computer was having issues – without that, we wouldn't be able to take off safely. It was another half hour before we got any updates (which weren't good, admittedly), saying they were doing everything they could to get us airborne. But after yet another half hour (2 hours elapsed, total), they booted us off the plane, saying the issue couldn't be resolved in any reasonable amount of time. Thankfully, there was another plane that wasn't scheduled to go anywhere, right next to ours, in fact, and it was (almost) ready to fly.
I say “almost,” because they took an HOUR getting the plane all ready for boarding. Now I'm no aviation expert, but you'd think they'd be able to get things done a bit quicker, considering our plight. Even after the plane was all ready for our departure, we waited yet ANOTHER hour to complete the boarding process. At the end of it all, it was 6:55 PM, PDT before we were actually airborne – a far cry from our expected 2:50-ish time. This meant instead of arriving in The Netherlands at around 8:30 the next morning, we wouldn't actually get in until 12:20 that afternoon. Not exactly the -best- of starts to the trip. But, other than that, the flight was uneventful – although I will say the airline food may have made my stomach do a few somersaults.
Day 2 (technically still 1) – Friday, March 22:
Ah, Amsterdam – my first, true moments of being out of the country (my trips to Canada don't count). One of the first things I noticed upon reaching our destination was that the Dutch spoke roughly equal amounts of Dutch as well as English. Indeed, we found out later that the people of The Netherlands were more than happy to help tourists find their way, so we could always ask for directions if we needed them. We loaded up our bags into a van, got to our ship, then found our rooms and settled in. We had a quick lunch aboard the ship before setting off into Amsterdam and seeing the sights. The boat wasn't scheduled to leave for another 2 days, so we took the time to enjoy the city and what it had to offer.
One of the first places we visited was the Anne Frank House – yes, THE very house where Anne and her family hid out from the Nazis in the Secret Annex. We had pre-purchased tickets for the tour, but our scheduled time was at around 1 PM – we didn't get to the Anne Frank House until almost 4. Thankfully, the receptionist told us that our tickets were still valid, and we could take the tour.
Some things you have to keep in mind about what Anne Frank and her family went through – for one, there was, by my best guess, only 1300-ish square feet in the secret annex, in which almost a dozen people were crammed into. Also, during the day, they couldn't make ANY noise, lest the workers in the warehouse above which they were confined heard them – they couldn't even use the toilet (or flush it, at least). To this day, no one knows who it was who betrayed Anne Frank and her family and friends to the Nazis. Only Otto Frank, Anne's Father, survived the Holocaust.
After we'd seen enough of Amsterdam for the day, we headed on back to the boat for our dinner and overview of the events for the next day. Still suffering from jet lag, I actually fell asleep during the overview a couple times. But, I still managed to get enough strength to head downstairs to the main restaurant and have dinner before we finally called it a night, and got to sleep.
Day 3 – Saturday, March 23:
Woke up, got showered, and headed to the restaurant for breakfast, which consisted of eggs, bacon, toast, and sausage. Dad and I then got off the boat to go on a canal tour of Amsterdam, which took about an hour as we sailed through the various waterways. Fun fact: Amsterdam is sometimes known as the “Venice of the North,” because of all the various waterways that criss-cross the city. The coat of arms of Amsterdam has 3 “Xs” running down the middle of the shield – our guide informed us that they represented the three ancient enemies of Amsterdam – Water, Plague, and Fire (our snarky canal boat driver remarked that he thought the enemies were sex, drugs and rock n' roll XD). After the tour (during which dad took LOTS of pictures), we paid a visit to the floating flower gardens – bit of a disappointment, really, as they were little more than flower markets that happened to be positioned on one of the canals.
The afternoon took us to the city of Delft, which was where The Netherlands' founder, Prince William of Orange, declared the nation's sovereignty. It is because of this event that most of the Dutch in the country wear orange clothes – to honor the prince's act. It was a nice little walking tour through the city, and we also paid a visit to one of three locations where Delft china comes from. Any of you who think you might have Delftware, as it is called, be warned – only these three establishments are genuine - the rest are trademarked knockoffs. Some of the Delftware in the shop we visited was worth almost 1300 Euros (for us in the States, that's about $1800 after factoring in the exchange rates)!
Once our visit in Delft was concluded, we headed back to the boat, and after meeting our captain, we waved farewell to Amsterdam, and set off that night to the next town after dinner.
Day 4 – Sunday, March 24, Palm Sunday:
One thing I forgot to mention about The Netherlands – it's windy (why do you think there's so many windmills?)! We woke to discover that this day was the coldest it had been since 1916 - a record that had stood for nearly 100 years. Our ship had docked in the city of Hoorn (say “horn”), where we awaited our guides to take us on a frigid walking tour of the city. In point of fact, we were told that usually it's about 20 degrees Celsius warmer this time of year, but the freezing winds from the north were making things unusually cold.
The morning walk was more than just a sightseeing tour, however – the people in charge of our cruise line had contacted various families in the city to give us an experience of what it was like to live in the Netherlands. Our hostess, who I must begin was very kind, was very informative about her life and others' in Hoorn as well as elsewhere in The Netherlands. She had a wonderful view of the city from her apartment – hell, I might just consider retiring here when I've done all the work that God wants me to do.
After a lovely mid-morning snack and talk with her (I didn't want to leave!), we headed back to the boat for some lunch before heading out on a bus to see one of the things that The Netherlands is really known for – its Tulips.
...Or rather, one of the farms where they're grown, anyway.
Sadly, it was still 3 weeks too early before we could actually see fields of the lovely flowers in bloom, but we still saw the vast multitudes of Tulips inside one of the many greenhouses where they were kept before being packaged and sent off elsewhere. Believe it or not, Tulips are such a major export of The Netherlands, there are actually auctions where companies bid on collections of the flowers for their own customers.
Unfortunately, jet lag was still affecting me, even 3 days after our flight, and I spent most of the ride to the farm more or less asleep in my seat. It was a shame, because there were a lot of cool towns and sights that I missed along the way. Good thing dad took lots of pictures.
Again, after the trip to the Tulip farms, we headed back to the ship for the overview of tomorrow, then dinner, and (finally!) sleep. But, not before I got some playtime on my computer. XP
Day 5 – Monday, March 25:
Let me tell you a story.
A story of a time when the world had gone mad.
A time when your daily life meant either taking orders from a mass-murdering psycho dictator or being crushed under the bootheels of his dark-brown trenchcoated secret police.
No, this isn't the present day United States, this is Arnhem in September of 1944.
Generals Montgomery and Eisenhower had gotten together and decided that in one moment, they would say to Der Fuhrer and his Nazis, “ENOUGH!” and storm through Arnhem to Berlin. The mission:
OPERATION: MARKET GARDEN
This was the site of the largest airborne operation of the war – and one that has not been seen since.
Over 20,000 troops
5,000 tons of military supplies, munitions, and machinery
and much more...
It was supposed to be a simple mission – drop our boys from the US, Britain, Canada, and some of the Polish Resistance into the fields surrounding Arnhem, and take the bridges so that Allied ground forces could reinforce the town before continuing on to the heart of Hitler's crumbling empire, with the hope that the war would be over by Christmas.
...Unfortunately, it was anything but simple.
British intelligence had come up short in reporting just how large the German garrison was at Arnhem. There were far more troops stationed in the city than expected – even worse, the Nazis were supported by the 1st and 2nd Panzer divisons – they had TANKS. We didn't. Also, the Polish Resistance wound up landing across the river from the rest of the troopers who made it to Arnhem. If that wasn't enough, the Nazis, anticipating the attack, had destroyed the rail bridge leading into the city, and dismantled a pontoon bridge that was a few kilometers up the way. Only one bridge – a large steel girder bridge, remained. Some felt it was a Bridge Too Far. (Yes, that is what the movie is named for.)
In spite of the long odds, troopers led by then-Colonel Frost managed to reach the last remaining bridge. Frost and his troops were being hit hard from all sides as they tried to hold their positions for 4 days, praying that the ground troops would arrive in time. But the sheer number of German forces, between the soldiers and the tanks backing them up, tested the will of the paratroopers to their absolute limit. The ground forces had started late, and what should have taken 2 days, wound up taking 5.
Finally, on the 5th morning of the invasion, Frost had no choice but to signal his troops to withdraw to a perimeter a few miles West of the city. The combined forces continued to hold out for another 4 days, until the order from Allied High Command came in: withdraw at once.
Market Garden, for all its effort to bring a fast end to the war, failed. World War II drug on for another 6 months.
All this was recounted in Arnhem's Airborne Museum, which served as the headquarters for the aforementioned perimeter, and was originally a hotel. It was here that our 5th day began, but one experience that I will never forget. In the end, 1,485 men died for their countries, and our freedom, in this one battle. We paid a visit to the graveyard where many of these men now rest – many of whom their identities unknown to all but God. The rest of the day was spent walking around Arnhem and one of its parks, but it is a small note compared to the events that occurred nearly 70 years ago.
The journey reminded me, above all else, the following...
FREEDOM ISN'T FREE
LEST WE FORGET
Day 6 – Tuesday, March 26:
Brr. Aaron frickin' BRRRR! Cold this morning, and windy as well. Perfect weather for taking a tour of what The Netherlands are also known for – the windmills!
Windmills, in case you didn't already know, were used for grinding wheat, mustard, and sometimes even stone. The Netherlands, however, gave them another use – pumping systems.
No, you didn't read that wrong. Almost 30% of the country is well below sea level – most of it in the Western part of the nation, which, unfortunately, is where most of the population is located. So, the Dutch built more than 1000 windmills to help pump the water out of the nation and (eventually) into the North Sea. And using diesel-electric-powered pumps, they still do, to this day. I bet you're wondering, if they ever decided to stop pumping the water altogether, how long would it take for all that land to be reclaimed by the sea? 100 years? No. 50? Nope. 10? Not even close.
Three.
MONTHS.
Remember the coat of arms of Amsterdam I mentioned? That's how much water the Dutch are fighting to this day. The Netherlands has 17 million people living in it. Now try picturing the Greater Manhattan Metropolitan Area (which is maybe HALF its size in population) suddenly sinking into the sea, with every last man, woman and child with it. THAT'S the kind of fight that The Netherlands has been dealing with for the past 800+ years.
After visiting one of the windmills in the town of Kinderdijk (say kin-dur-dyke), the rest of the day consisted of us sailing around on the boat – there were no other stops along the way. Coincidentally, this was also the day I finally got started on this journal, thanks to the extra time we had. Not much else to say other than we had dinner and got the 411 on our activities for tomorrow.
Day 7 – Wednesday, March 27:
Ah, Belgium. Well-known for its diamond industry, Belgian Waffles, and, of course...
CHOOOOCOLAAAAATE!!!
We paid a visit to the city of Antwerp, Belgium for this part of our tour of Europe. What was our goal? Why, to eat our way through it, of course. XP
Breakfast was our usual shipboard continental breakfast, consisting of an omelette, sausages, and so on. After that, we took a walking tour of Antwerp for a couple hours, during which we visited the Cathedral of Our Lady. Inside the cathedral were paintings of the famous artist Peter Paul Reubens, who made various paintings, sculptures, and architectural designs.
After the visit to the cathedral, we roamed around town for the rest of the day. One of the first places we visited was Centraal Station. It was huge – to say it was similar in size to Grand Central in NYC would not have been an exaggeration. While there, we saw what appeared to be a breakdancing competition of sorts. It was quite interesting to watch how the dancers used their momentum to perform the moves they did.
After about half an hour, we left Centraal to a local fast food joint to have French Fries – yep, French Fries are actually from Belgium, not France! Belgians tend to eat fries with either mayonnaise or gravy – we didn't have any gravy, but I must say that mayo wasn't a big draw for me. As to the fries themselves, forget anything you might know about how fries taste – they're nothing compared to how they taste from the country of origin. They were hot, crisp, and, most importantly, not greasy at all. Who says having no trans fat is a good thing?
Next on our trip through Antwerp – Belgian Chocolate. We stopped at a couple shops to pick up different kinds of chocolate for us to enjoy – both at time of purchase and later on our trip. Trying to describe how awesome Belgian Chocolate is would be like trying to describe rock n' roll to someone who's never heard it before – you'd have to experience it yourself.
With the sun getting low in the sky, we decided that one of our last stops would be at the house of Peter Paul Reubens himself – the very residence in which he worked and died in. While not all the works in the house were made by Reubens, many were either created by Reubens or his pupils. Though the artwork was the main attraction, the grounds themselves were equally astounding to witness. One of the best parts about the visit? Since it was the last Wednesday of the month, entry was free to the house (it would have cost us 14 Euros to enter, normally)!
Before we headed back to the ship, there was time enough for one last stop before we left Antwerp once and for all. So, we decided to get a bite to eat at this restaurant called Desiree de Lille. The food of choice? A Belgian Waffle with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. We had had Belgian Waffles yesterday, but they didn't hold a match to the waffle we had at the restaurant.
Once back at the ship, there was little else we did except dinner and reviewing the next day's activities, as per usual.
Day 8 – Thursday, March 28, Maundy Thursday:
Early start to the day. Had to be off the ship by 8:30 instead of around 9-ish like we usually were. The city we docked at was called Ghent, but our destination was the town of Bruges (yes, for which the movie In Bruges is named for and takes place in). We started off with a 2 hour walking tour of the city, eventually arriving at the clock tower that would serve as our meeting point for getting back to the bus. There would be 2 pick-up times – 11:45 and 3:15. It was our intention to try to be back by 11:45, but not before we went up in the tower to see the entire city.
My heart sank a bit when I saw the line for entering the tower – only a maximum of 70 people could be in the tower at any one time for security purposes. Indeed, it took us the better part of half an hour just getting to the ticket stand before we could actually go up in the tower. Still, I tried to stay upbeat and hoped we'd be up and down in time.
Since the tower was over 600 years old, there wasn't any elevator – a total of 366 steps were the only way to reach the highest observable point in the tower, and there wasn't much room to maneuver. Any time someone was coming down, I'd shout, “down ladder!” to alert our group and anyone else coming up. Racing against the clock, I was doing my best to get to the top of the tower before 11:45 rolled around, all the while doing my best to take in as much of the tower as it had to offer. As “Wild Bill” Hickock once put it best, I “took my time in a hurry,” you might say.
In all, it took an exhausting 10 minutes before I at last reached the top of the tower and its viewing area which contained the carillon (the bells). Inside the panorama, as it was called, there were markings on the stone window sills that displayed the various distances to the cities surrounding Bruges – I chuckled at the distance to Paris, which was some 230 km in a rough south-easterly direction.
As I was admiring both the view of the city and the inside of the bell tower, I eventually asked:
“Dad, what time is it?”
(checks his watch)
“11:45.”
...SHIT.
Desperately, I tried to think of some way I could make lemonade from this lemon I now had – maybe I could catch up to the group, maybe I could get down from the tower in time before they left, maybe we'd run into the group somewhere along the way...
...But as the bells chimed while we were more than 3/4ths of the way down, I knew at that moment we were stuck until 3:15. With a sigh, I had little choice but to resign myself to our fate – the group could've been anywhere in the 15 minutes that elapsed, and just running into them somewhere in town would've been impossible.
Still disappointed that we didn't make the 11:45 deadline, I joined my dad and our friends at a small restaurant across the square from the clock tower. Seeing as we wouldn't be back to the ship until at least 5 PM at this point (it was an hour bus ride, on top of an extra 45 minutes of sightseeing once the group met up at the clock tower), we had to eat some lunch somewhere, and it turned out this was as good a place as any.
It was in this restaurant that I became acquainted with another of Belgium's claims-to-fame: beefsteak. With lots of gravy. And a basket of fries to go with it. I also had some greens to force down my throat – and a tomato. Now, while I've never liked tomatoes to begin with (mainly due to the texture), I couldn't tell you what the greens were, except that we pretty much all agreed they tasted like grass. With that out of the way, I moved on to the good stuff. I must say, gravy plus fries equals mass amounts of win, and the beefsteak was excellent as well.
Well, as long as we were stuck in Bruges, we figured we may as well load up on more chocolate. Because, well, let's be honest – you can never have too much chocolate, right? Unless you're allergic, I suppose...
As one final stop, we paid a visit to the Old Saint John's Hospital a few blocks from the clock tower (and we ran into a statue of Humphrey Bogart dressed in his suit from Casablanca as an aside) to see some more of Belgium's past. Old, indeed – the oldest known register dated from the 12th Century! As the exhibit reminded me, medical science was very primitive when hospitals were first created - originally, they had very little to do with physical healing of the body and more of spiritual healing of the soul. While I knew that hospitals in the early days were probably one of the last places you ever wanted to be, St. John's showed me just how much people were scared of these institutions. At one point during the tour, there was a display of medical equipment that the hospital and others like it used during the 1600s – the needles were bad enough to look at, but I think the mention of a drill they used to bore into you would be enough to make your skin crawl.
Of course, seeing as the hospital was initially intended for healing of the soul, there was plenty of artwork of the Christian faith – Jesus, naturally, but also St. Ursula, which the hospital was primarily dedicated to, and a statue of St. Augustine of Hippo, which I personally found quite interesting.
Before long, we were checking our watches to find that it was a quarter to 3, meaning we had to hurry up and finish looking at the rest of the hospital and its grounds; again, taking my time in a hurry, and doing my best to read up on as much as I could.
Once the bells chimed, though, we quickly made our exit and headed back to the clock tower for the trek back to the buses. While on the walk, I had a bit of an epiphany as to why things went the way they did. As patient as I've been with regards to my job hunt and not seeing any results, I had not quite let go of all my impatience with regards to other things, like the aforementioned time it took to get through the tower. Clearly, I feel this was God's way of showing me that while I'm patient, there's still room for improvement.
Getting back to our exit from the city, we were shown a few other sights around the city, mainly shops and so on. However, the last places we passed by were a park and a nunnery. The park was filled with swans – more than I'd ever seen at one time until that point. And the nunnery, with its rows of white buildings, was quiet and peaceful, disregarding our guide's chatter. It was once we got back to the buses that dad and I realized that, originally, trips to Bruges had a 45-minute walk in to the city, not just the 45-minutes it took to walk out, hence the need for a meeting point.
After getting back to the ship and experiencing the usual nightly routine, I found myself contemplating the day's events as I began to drift off to sleep. It appears that this trip may well be the reason I haven't found a job yet – God feels I need to improve myself a bit more before He puts me where I need to be, and this trip is doing a good job of showing my weakness.
...Huh. Is that snow outside my window? Maybe I'm just seeing things, but I could've sworn I saw a few flakes...
Whatever. Tired. Sleep now.
Day 9 – Friday, March 29, Good Friday:
Back in The Netherlands once again. Another early day, but at least this time, I was more ready and awake when the wake-up call came. Plans for the day: run around like a chicken with its head cut off.
The snow I thought I saw last night must have been forewarning for the trip to the coast we were taking today – we were told one of the stops we were visiting was always very windy, but the cold we were experiencing made me feel glad I'd decided to wear a long-sleeved shirt. Even with it tucked in so's no frosty air would rush up my back, in addition to my fleece and coat, it was still friggin' cold.
Our journey today took us to a little town called Weere (say “veer”). Aside from the giant church that dominated its skyline, there wasn't all that much else in the town – shops, homes, restaurants – pretty humdrum compared to the places we'd been thus far. The focus of the tour, I guess you could say, was the flood of 1953 that devastated a large region of The Netherlands – most people simply referred to it as “the disaster.” I'd say the deaths of 1,836 people, the destruction of 10,000 buildings, and 9% of the total Dutch farmland flooded would qualify as a disaster.
This was all recounted in the second half of our excursion to the Watersnoodmuseum, which was made from the 4 massive caissons that were originally used to plug one of the dikes destroyed in the flood. We decided we were going to do our own thing and not follow the guide this time – instead, we were just going to admire the museum as it came to us. Unfortunately, as we were on a tight schedule, we didn't really get the chance to examine and admire everything the museum had to offer, and wound up making passing glances at the later parts of the exhibition. It was all too soon that we found ourselves back on the bus headed back to the ship.
...I wasn't hallucinating, after all. It's really snowing.
Back on board, we had a lunch centered around, “A Taste of Deutschland.” Naturally, there was polka music playing as we served ourselves Dutch cheese, meat croquettes, and Rookwurst. I dunno what the difference between Rookwurst and Knockwurst is, unless the latter doesn't have cheese as the former does. Other than that, I took the time to update this journal again, seeing as it was another “day at sea” kind of day.
That reminds me, that's probably another thing that God's reminding me that I need to improve on – getting around to things that I say I'll do but wind up taking weeks or months to actually get around to it. Gives me more motivation to get back to writing more of my story for all y'all to enjoy.
Only significant thing about tonight's activities was the Captain's send-off party thing – The Netherlands part of the cruise doesn't end for another day, but I assume they did this because tomorrow would be crazy-busy for them and would be quite tiring for them.
Dinner went thusly: potato cake with salmon caviar on top (not bad, actually) and greens (blargh), risotto and shrimp with mushrooms (mushrooms, bleh, the rest, YUM), various steamed veggies (urgh) with pieces of baked potato (nice) and Filet Mignon (*insert drooling sound here*). Finishing off the night was a selection of Brie, Provolone, and Cambozola (Camembert and Gorgonzola) cheeses with crackers.
The rest of the night was mine to enjoy, which I did via playing some more Secret of Mana. Tomorrow would be another early day, though, so I had to go to bed equally early.
Day 10 – Saturday, March 30:
Right back where we started in Amsterdam. Today's weather: schizophrenic, alternating between being sunny and snowing.
The day started with a trip to the Keukenhoff Tulip Gardens. Problem was, it was still friggin' cold, so the few flowers that were out were mostly daffodils. Were the flowers in bloom, the experience would've been worlds better – I had a hard time remembering what it was until I had written journals for a few other days! There was a hothouse we also visited with other plants and flowers, but even then, not everything was in bloom. All in all, the potential for the experience being spectacular was undermined by the time of year it was, but there wasn't all that much you could do about that. Perhaps the most unbelievable thing about the whole trip? Out of the 180 or so passengers from our ship, THREE wanted to stay behind. I mean, WTF? Granted, if the flowers were in bloom, that would at least make sense, but the grounds as they were? We were done in about an hour and a half. Sometimes, idiocy knows no bounds, it seems...
After we got back to the ship and had lunch, we went to visit a church that had been converted into a modern art museum. Bit of a misnomer, really – in my opinion, most “modern art” is neither “modern,” nor is it usually “art.” The church itself only had a few stained-glass windows in it, as well – there were some other things, like crypts and ornate woodwork, but it was really nothing to write home about. On the way to said museum, however, we wound up going through Amsterdam's Red-Light District.
...There are just some things that no man should ever see.
Or smell, for that matter. More smokers there than a Baltimore Bingo Hall. The museum was also more or less in the middle of the district. Ain't irony grand?
After we managed to get out of the racier side of Amsterdam, we stopped at a museum called Our Lord In The Attic, which was a Catholic Church constructed in the upper floors of a few houses. It was built at a time when practicing Catholicsm openly was frowned upon in Amsterdam – to say its creator was inventive was a gross understatement.
Once we had finished touring the museum, we explored Amsterdam a bit more, and found ourselves at a square we had visited the first time we arrived in-town. Last time, the place was empty – but today, it was home to a carnival, seeing as Easter was tomorrow. Yeah, I don't know, either. Still was an entertaining experience, though we didn't go on any of the rides or play the games that were there. Not that I'm complaining – rides were overpriced for what they were, and carnie games are rigged, as-is.
Seeing as it was our last night in The Netherlands, the dinner was our last farewell to the crew we had become so well-acquainted with. Gonna miss those guys – they did their best to be as accommodating as possible.
CONTINUED IN PT II
You may have been wondering where I've been for the past 3 weeks. Well, I was in Europe, traveling through The Netherlands, Belgium, and France. Sit back and allow me to recount the whole experience for all y'all.
WARNING: WALLS OF TEXT AHEAD!
Day 1 – Thursday, March 21:
The day started off well enough. Woke up at around 6-ish, PDT, to some scrambled eggs and bacon. I had made sure that as many people knew I would be traveling out of the country for the next few weeks, be they family or close friends, and certainly potential employers. You all know who you are who I managed to reach in time.
Anyway, we left the house at about 10 AM to pick up friends of ours, Jim and Evie, and made a stop at my Aunt's to pick her up and drove to the airport at Sea-Tac. We had to wait in Security for about 10 minutes, and had Ivar's for lunch. Afterward, we headed to our airplane at the South Satellite, arriving at about 1:30 PM.
Then things got...interesting. Our plane was scheduled to leave at about 2:35, but it was about 10 minutes later that we actually backed out from the gate. But then, the real fun began. (/sarcasm) We'd barely moved maybe 20 feet before they brought us back to the gate, saying there was an electrical problem. About half an hour later, the captain then told us that the plane's computer was having issues – without that, we wouldn't be able to take off safely. It was another half hour before we got any updates (which weren't good, admittedly), saying they were doing everything they could to get us airborne. But after yet another half hour (2 hours elapsed, total), they booted us off the plane, saying the issue couldn't be resolved in any reasonable amount of time. Thankfully, there was another plane that wasn't scheduled to go anywhere, right next to ours, in fact, and it was (almost) ready to fly.
I say “almost,” because they took an HOUR getting the plane all ready for boarding. Now I'm no aviation expert, but you'd think they'd be able to get things done a bit quicker, considering our plight. Even after the plane was all ready for our departure, we waited yet ANOTHER hour to complete the boarding process. At the end of it all, it was 6:55 PM, PDT before we were actually airborne – a far cry from our expected 2:50-ish time. This meant instead of arriving in The Netherlands at around 8:30 the next morning, we wouldn't actually get in until 12:20 that afternoon. Not exactly the -best- of starts to the trip. But, other than that, the flight was uneventful – although I will say the airline food may have made my stomach do a few somersaults.
Day 2 (technically still 1) – Friday, March 22:
Ah, Amsterdam – my first, true moments of being out of the country (my trips to Canada don't count). One of the first things I noticed upon reaching our destination was that the Dutch spoke roughly equal amounts of Dutch as well as English. Indeed, we found out later that the people of The Netherlands were more than happy to help tourists find their way, so we could always ask for directions if we needed them. We loaded up our bags into a van, got to our ship, then found our rooms and settled in. We had a quick lunch aboard the ship before setting off into Amsterdam and seeing the sights. The boat wasn't scheduled to leave for another 2 days, so we took the time to enjoy the city and what it had to offer.
One of the first places we visited was the Anne Frank House – yes, THE very house where Anne and her family hid out from the Nazis in the Secret Annex. We had pre-purchased tickets for the tour, but our scheduled time was at around 1 PM – we didn't get to the Anne Frank House until almost 4. Thankfully, the receptionist told us that our tickets were still valid, and we could take the tour.
Some things you have to keep in mind about what Anne Frank and her family went through – for one, there was, by my best guess, only 1300-ish square feet in the secret annex, in which almost a dozen people were crammed into. Also, during the day, they couldn't make ANY noise, lest the workers in the warehouse above which they were confined heard them – they couldn't even use the toilet (or flush it, at least). To this day, no one knows who it was who betrayed Anne Frank and her family and friends to the Nazis. Only Otto Frank, Anne's Father, survived the Holocaust.
After we'd seen enough of Amsterdam for the day, we headed on back to the boat for our dinner and overview of the events for the next day. Still suffering from jet lag, I actually fell asleep during the overview a couple times. But, I still managed to get enough strength to head downstairs to the main restaurant and have dinner before we finally called it a night, and got to sleep.
Day 3 – Saturday, March 23:
Woke up, got showered, and headed to the restaurant for breakfast, which consisted of eggs, bacon, toast, and sausage. Dad and I then got off the boat to go on a canal tour of Amsterdam, which took about an hour as we sailed through the various waterways. Fun fact: Amsterdam is sometimes known as the “Venice of the North,” because of all the various waterways that criss-cross the city. The coat of arms of Amsterdam has 3 “Xs” running down the middle of the shield – our guide informed us that they represented the three ancient enemies of Amsterdam – Water, Plague, and Fire (our snarky canal boat driver remarked that he thought the enemies were sex, drugs and rock n' roll XD). After the tour (during which dad took LOTS of pictures), we paid a visit to the floating flower gardens – bit of a disappointment, really, as they were little more than flower markets that happened to be positioned on one of the canals.
The afternoon took us to the city of Delft, which was where The Netherlands' founder, Prince William of Orange, declared the nation's sovereignty. It is because of this event that most of the Dutch in the country wear orange clothes – to honor the prince's act. It was a nice little walking tour through the city, and we also paid a visit to one of three locations where Delft china comes from. Any of you who think you might have Delftware, as it is called, be warned – only these three establishments are genuine - the rest are trademarked knockoffs. Some of the Delftware in the shop we visited was worth almost 1300 Euros (for us in the States, that's about $1800 after factoring in the exchange rates)!
Once our visit in Delft was concluded, we headed back to the boat, and after meeting our captain, we waved farewell to Amsterdam, and set off that night to the next town after dinner.
Day 4 – Sunday, March 24, Palm Sunday:
One thing I forgot to mention about The Netherlands – it's windy (why do you think there's so many windmills?)! We woke to discover that this day was the coldest it had been since 1916 - a record that had stood for nearly 100 years. Our ship had docked in the city of Hoorn (say “horn”), where we awaited our guides to take us on a frigid walking tour of the city. In point of fact, we were told that usually it's about 20 degrees Celsius warmer this time of year, but the freezing winds from the north were making things unusually cold.
The morning walk was more than just a sightseeing tour, however – the people in charge of our cruise line had contacted various families in the city to give us an experience of what it was like to live in the Netherlands. Our hostess, who I must begin was very kind, was very informative about her life and others' in Hoorn as well as elsewhere in The Netherlands. She had a wonderful view of the city from her apartment – hell, I might just consider retiring here when I've done all the work that God wants me to do.
After a lovely mid-morning snack and talk with her (I didn't want to leave!), we headed back to the boat for some lunch before heading out on a bus to see one of the things that The Netherlands is really known for – its Tulips.
...Or rather, one of the farms where they're grown, anyway.
Sadly, it was still 3 weeks too early before we could actually see fields of the lovely flowers in bloom, but we still saw the vast multitudes of Tulips inside one of the many greenhouses where they were kept before being packaged and sent off elsewhere. Believe it or not, Tulips are such a major export of The Netherlands, there are actually auctions where companies bid on collections of the flowers for their own customers.
Unfortunately, jet lag was still affecting me, even 3 days after our flight, and I spent most of the ride to the farm more or less asleep in my seat. It was a shame, because there were a lot of cool towns and sights that I missed along the way. Good thing dad took lots of pictures.
Again, after the trip to the Tulip farms, we headed back to the ship for the overview of tomorrow, then dinner, and (finally!) sleep. But, not before I got some playtime on my computer. XP
Day 5 – Monday, March 25:
Let me tell you a story.
A story of a time when the world had gone mad.
A time when your daily life meant either taking orders from a mass-murdering psycho dictator or being crushed under the bootheels of his dark-brown trenchcoated secret police.
No, this isn't the present day United States, this is Arnhem in September of 1944.
Generals Montgomery and Eisenhower had gotten together and decided that in one moment, they would say to Der Fuhrer and his Nazis, “ENOUGH!” and storm through Arnhem to Berlin. The mission:
OPERATION: MARKET GARDEN
This was the site of the largest airborne operation of the war – and one that has not been seen since.
Over 20,000 troops
5,000 tons of military supplies, munitions, and machinery
and much more...
It was supposed to be a simple mission – drop our boys from the US, Britain, Canada, and some of the Polish Resistance into the fields surrounding Arnhem, and take the bridges so that Allied ground forces could reinforce the town before continuing on to the heart of Hitler's crumbling empire, with the hope that the war would be over by Christmas.
...Unfortunately, it was anything but simple.
British intelligence had come up short in reporting just how large the German garrison was at Arnhem. There were far more troops stationed in the city than expected – even worse, the Nazis were supported by the 1st and 2nd Panzer divisons – they had TANKS. We didn't. Also, the Polish Resistance wound up landing across the river from the rest of the troopers who made it to Arnhem. If that wasn't enough, the Nazis, anticipating the attack, had destroyed the rail bridge leading into the city, and dismantled a pontoon bridge that was a few kilometers up the way. Only one bridge – a large steel girder bridge, remained. Some felt it was a Bridge Too Far. (Yes, that is what the movie is named for.)
In spite of the long odds, troopers led by then-Colonel Frost managed to reach the last remaining bridge. Frost and his troops were being hit hard from all sides as they tried to hold their positions for 4 days, praying that the ground troops would arrive in time. But the sheer number of German forces, between the soldiers and the tanks backing them up, tested the will of the paratroopers to their absolute limit. The ground forces had started late, and what should have taken 2 days, wound up taking 5.
Finally, on the 5th morning of the invasion, Frost had no choice but to signal his troops to withdraw to a perimeter a few miles West of the city. The combined forces continued to hold out for another 4 days, until the order from Allied High Command came in: withdraw at once.
Market Garden, for all its effort to bring a fast end to the war, failed. World War II drug on for another 6 months.
All this was recounted in Arnhem's Airborne Museum, which served as the headquarters for the aforementioned perimeter, and was originally a hotel. It was here that our 5th day began, but one experience that I will never forget. In the end, 1,485 men died for their countries, and our freedom, in this one battle. We paid a visit to the graveyard where many of these men now rest – many of whom their identities unknown to all but God. The rest of the day was spent walking around Arnhem and one of its parks, but it is a small note compared to the events that occurred nearly 70 years ago.
The journey reminded me, above all else, the following...
FREEDOM ISN'T FREE
LEST WE FORGET
Day 6 – Tuesday, March 26:
Brr. Aaron frickin' BRRRR! Cold this morning, and windy as well. Perfect weather for taking a tour of what The Netherlands are also known for – the windmills!
Windmills, in case you didn't already know, were used for grinding wheat, mustard, and sometimes even stone. The Netherlands, however, gave them another use – pumping systems.
No, you didn't read that wrong. Almost 30% of the country is well below sea level – most of it in the Western part of the nation, which, unfortunately, is where most of the population is located. So, the Dutch built more than 1000 windmills to help pump the water out of the nation and (eventually) into the North Sea. And using diesel-electric-powered pumps, they still do, to this day. I bet you're wondering, if they ever decided to stop pumping the water altogether, how long would it take for all that land to be reclaimed by the sea? 100 years? No. 50? Nope. 10? Not even close.
Three.
MONTHS.
Remember the coat of arms of Amsterdam I mentioned? That's how much water the Dutch are fighting to this day. The Netherlands has 17 million people living in it. Now try picturing the Greater Manhattan Metropolitan Area (which is maybe HALF its size in population) suddenly sinking into the sea, with every last man, woman and child with it. THAT'S the kind of fight that The Netherlands has been dealing with for the past 800+ years.
After visiting one of the windmills in the town of Kinderdijk (say kin-dur-dyke), the rest of the day consisted of us sailing around on the boat – there were no other stops along the way. Coincidentally, this was also the day I finally got started on this journal, thanks to the extra time we had. Not much else to say other than we had dinner and got the 411 on our activities for tomorrow.
Day 7 – Wednesday, March 27:
Ah, Belgium. Well-known for its diamond industry, Belgian Waffles, and, of course...
CHOOOOCOLAAAAATE!!!
We paid a visit to the city of Antwerp, Belgium for this part of our tour of Europe. What was our goal? Why, to eat our way through it, of course. XP
Breakfast was our usual shipboard continental breakfast, consisting of an omelette, sausages, and so on. After that, we took a walking tour of Antwerp for a couple hours, during which we visited the Cathedral of Our Lady. Inside the cathedral were paintings of the famous artist Peter Paul Reubens, who made various paintings, sculptures, and architectural designs.
After the visit to the cathedral, we roamed around town for the rest of the day. One of the first places we visited was Centraal Station. It was huge – to say it was similar in size to Grand Central in NYC would not have been an exaggeration. While there, we saw what appeared to be a breakdancing competition of sorts. It was quite interesting to watch how the dancers used their momentum to perform the moves they did.
After about half an hour, we left Centraal to a local fast food joint to have French Fries – yep, French Fries are actually from Belgium, not France! Belgians tend to eat fries with either mayonnaise or gravy – we didn't have any gravy, but I must say that mayo wasn't a big draw for me. As to the fries themselves, forget anything you might know about how fries taste – they're nothing compared to how they taste from the country of origin. They were hot, crisp, and, most importantly, not greasy at all. Who says having no trans fat is a good thing?
Next on our trip through Antwerp – Belgian Chocolate. We stopped at a couple shops to pick up different kinds of chocolate for us to enjoy – both at time of purchase and later on our trip. Trying to describe how awesome Belgian Chocolate is would be like trying to describe rock n' roll to someone who's never heard it before – you'd have to experience it yourself.
With the sun getting low in the sky, we decided that one of our last stops would be at the house of Peter Paul Reubens himself – the very residence in which he worked and died in. While not all the works in the house were made by Reubens, many were either created by Reubens or his pupils. Though the artwork was the main attraction, the grounds themselves were equally astounding to witness. One of the best parts about the visit? Since it was the last Wednesday of the month, entry was free to the house (it would have cost us 14 Euros to enter, normally)!
Before we headed back to the ship, there was time enough for one last stop before we left Antwerp once and for all. So, we decided to get a bite to eat at this restaurant called Desiree de Lille. The food of choice? A Belgian Waffle with vanilla ice cream and chocolate sauce. We had had Belgian Waffles yesterday, but they didn't hold a match to the waffle we had at the restaurant.
Once back at the ship, there was little else we did except dinner and reviewing the next day's activities, as per usual.
Day 8 – Thursday, March 28, Maundy Thursday:
Early start to the day. Had to be off the ship by 8:30 instead of around 9-ish like we usually were. The city we docked at was called Ghent, but our destination was the town of Bruges (yes, for which the movie In Bruges is named for and takes place in). We started off with a 2 hour walking tour of the city, eventually arriving at the clock tower that would serve as our meeting point for getting back to the bus. There would be 2 pick-up times – 11:45 and 3:15. It was our intention to try to be back by 11:45, but not before we went up in the tower to see the entire city.
My heart sank a bit when I saw the line for entering the tower – only a maximum of 70 people could be in the tower at any one time for security purposes. Indeed, it took us the better part of half an hour just getting to the ticket stand before we could actually go up in the tower. Still, I tried to stay upbeat and hoped we'd be up and down in time.
Since the tower was over 600 years old, there wasn't any elevator – a total of 366 steps were the only way to reach the highest observable point in the tower, and there wasn't much room to maneuver. Any time someone was coming down, I'd shout, “down ladder!” to alert our group and anyone else coming up. Racing against the clock, I was doing my best to get to the top of the tower before 11:45 rolled around, all the while doing my best to take in as much of the tower as it had to offer. As “Wild Bill” Hickock once put it best, I “took my time in a hurry,” you might say.
In all, it took an exhausting 10 minutes before I at last reached the top of the tower and its viewing area which contained the carillon (the bells). Inside the panorama, as it was called, there were markings on the stone window sills that displayed the various distances to the cities surrounding Bruges – I chuckled at the distance to Paris, which was some 230 km in a rough south-easterly direction.
As I was admiring both the view of the city and the inside of the bell tower, I eventually asked:
“Dad, what time is it?”
(checks his watch)
“11:45.”
...SHIT.
Desperately, I tried to think of some way I could make lemonade from this lemon I now had – maybe I could catch up to the group, maybe I could get down from the tower in time before they left, maybe we'd run into the group somewhere along the way...
...But as the bells chimed while we were more than 3/4ths of the way down, I knew at that moment we were stuck until 3:15. With a sigh, I had little choice but to resign myself to our fate – the group could've been anywhere in the 15 minutes that elapsed, and just running into them somewhere in town would've been impossible.
Still disappointed that we didn't make the 11:45 deadline, I joined my dad and our friends at a small restaurant across the square from the clock tower. Seeing as we wouldn't be back to the ship until at least 5 PM at this point (it was an hour bus ride, on top of an extra 45 minutes of sightseeing once the group met up at the clock tower), we had to eat some lunch somewhere, and it turned out this was as good a place as any.
It was in this restaurant that I became acquainted with another of Belgium's claims-to-fame: beefsteak. With lots of gravy. And a basket of fries to go with it. I also had some greens to force down my throat – and a tomato. Now, while I've never liked tomatoes to begin with (mainly due to the texture), I couldn't tell you what the greens were, except that we pretty much all agreed they tasted like grass. With that out of the way, I moved on to the good stuff. I must say, gravy plus fries equals mass amounts of win, and the beefsteak was excellent as well.
Well, as long as we were stuck in Bruges, we figured we may as well load up on more chocolate. Because, well, let's be honest – you can never have too much chocolate, right? Unless you're allergic, I suppose...
As one final stop, we paid a visit to the Old Saint John's Hospital a few blocks from the clock tower (and we ran into a statue of Humphrey Bogart dressed in his suit from Casablanca as an aside) to see some more of Belgium's past. Old, indeed – the oldest known register dated from the 12th Century! As the exhibit reminded me, medical science was very primitive when hospitals were first created - originally, they had very little to do with physical healing of the body and more of spiritual healing of the soul. While I knew that hospitals in the early days were probably one of the last places you ever wanted to be, St. John's showed me just how much people were scared of these institutions. At one point during the tour, there was a display of medical equipment that the hospital and others like it used during the 1600s – the needles were bad enough to look at, but I think the mention of a drill they used to bore into you would be enough to make your skin crawl.
Of course, seeing as the hospital was initially intended for healing of the soul, there was plenty of artwork of the Christian faith – Jesus, naturally, but also St. Ursula, which the hospital was primarily dedicated to, and a statue of St. Augustine of Hippo, which I personally found quite interesting.
Before long, we were checking our watches to find that it was a quarter to 3, meaning we had to hurry up and finish looking at the rest of the hospital and its grounds; again, taking my time in a hurry, and doing my best to read up on as much as I could.
Once the bells chimed, though, we quickly made our exit and headed back to the clock tower for the trek back to the buses. While on the walk, I had a bit of an epiphany as to why things went the way they did. As patient as I've been with regards to my job hunt and not seeing any results, I had not quite let go of all my impatience with regards to other things, like the aforementioned time it took to get through the tower. Clearly, I feel this was God's way of showing me that while I'm patient, there's still room for improvement.
Getting back to our exit from the city, we were shown a few other sights around the city, mainly shops and so on. However, the last places we passed by were a park and a nunnery. The park was filled with swans – more than I'd ever seen at one time until that point. And the nunnery, with its rows of white buildings, was quiet and peaceful, disregarding our guide's chatter. It was once we got back to the buses that dad and I realized that, originally, trips to Bruges had a 45-minute walk in to the city, not just the 45-minutes it took to walk out, hence the need for a meeting point.
After getting back to the ship and experiencing the usual nightly routine, I found myself contemplating the day's events as I began to drift off to sleep. It appears that this trip may well be the reason I haven't found a job yet – God feels I need to improve myself a bit more before He puts me where I need to be, and this trip is doing a good job of showing my weakness.
...Huh. Is that snow outside my window? Maybe I'm just seeing things, but I could've sworn I saw a few flakes...
Whatever. Tired. Sleep now.
Day 9 – Friday, March 29, Good Friday:
Back in The Netherlands once again. Another early day, but at least this time, I was more ready and awake when the wake-up call came. Plans for the day: run around like a chicken with its head cut off.
The snow I thought I saw last night must have been forewarning for the trip to the coast we were taking today – we were told one of the stops we were visiting was always very windy, but the cold we were experiencing made me feel glad I'd decided to wear a long-sleeved shirt. Even with it tucked in so's no frosty air would rush up my back, in addition to my fleece and coat, it was still friggin' cold.
Our journey today took us to a little town called Weere (say “veer”). Aside from the giant church that dominated its skyline, there wasn't all that much else in the town – shops, homes, restaurants – pretty humdrum compared to the places we'd been thus far. The focus of the tour, I guess you could say, was the flood of 1953 that devastated a large region of The Netherlands – most people simply referred to it as “the disaster.” I'd say the deaths of 1,836 people, the destruction of 10,000 buildings, and 9% of the total Dutch farmland flooded would qualify as a disaster.
This was all recounted in the second half of our excursion to the Watersnoodmuseum, which was made from the 4 massive caissons that were originally used to plug one of the dikes destroyed in the flood. We decided we were going to do our own thing and not follow the guide this time – instead, we were just going to admire the museum as it came to us. Unfortunately, as we were on a tight schedule, we didn't really get the chance to examine and admire everything the museum had to offer, and wound up making passing glances at the later parts of the exhibition. It was all too soon that we found ourselves back on the bus headed back to the ship.
...I wasn't hallucinating, after all. It's really snowing.
Back on board, we had a lunch centered around, “A Taste of Deutschland.” Naturally, there was polka music playing as we served ourselves Dutch cheese, meat croquettes, and Rookwurst. I dunno what the difference between Rookwurst and Knockwurst is, unless the latter doesn't have cheese as the former does. Other than that, I took the time to update this journal again, seeing as it was another “day at sea” kind of day.
That reminds me, that's probably another thing that God's reminding me that I need to improve on – getting around to things that I say I'll do but wind up taking weeks or months to actually get around to it. Gives me more motivation to get back to writing more of my story for all y'all to enjoy.
Only significant thing about tonight's activities was the Captain's send-off party thing – The Netherlands part of the cruise doesn't end for another day, but I assume they did this because tomorrow would be crazy-busy for them and would be quite tiring for them.
Dinner went thusly: potato cake with salmon caviar on top (not bad, actually) and greens (blargh), risotto and shrimp with mushrooms (mushrooms, bleh, the rest, YUM), various steamed veggies (urgh) with pieces of baked potato (nice) and Filet Mignon (*insert drooling sound here*). Finishing off the night was a selection of Brie, Provolone, and Cambozola (Camembert and Gorgonzola) cheeses with crackers.
The rest of the night was mine to enjoy, which I did via playing some more Secret of Mana. Tomorrow would be another early day, though, so I had to go to bed equally early.
Day 10 – Saturday, March 30:
Right back where we started in Amsterdam. Today's weather: schizophrenic, alternating between being sunny and snowing.
The day started with a trip to the Keukenhoff Tulip Gardens. Problem was, it was still friggin' cold, so the few flowers that were out were mostly daffodils. Were the flowers in bloom, the experience would've been worlds better – I had a hard time remembering what it was until I had written journals for a few other days! There was a hothouse we also visited with other plants and flowers, but even then, not everything was in bloom. All in all, the potential for the experience being spectacular was undermined by the time of year it was, but there wasn't all that much you could do about that. Perhaps the most unbelievable thing about the whole trip? Out of the 180 or so passengers from our ship, THREE wanted to stay behind. I mean, WTF? Granted, if the flowers were in bloom, that would at least make sense, but the grounds as they were? We were done in about an hour and a half. Sometimes, idiocy knows no bounds, it seems...
After we got back to the ship and had lunch, we went to visit a church that had been converted into a modern art museum. Bit of a misnomer, really – in my opinion, most “modern art” is neither “modern,” nor is it usually “art.” The church itself only had a few stained-glass windows in it, as well – there were some other things, like crypts and ornate woodwork, but it was really nothing to write home about. On the way to said museum, however, we wound up going through Amsterdam's Red-Light District.
...There are just some things that no man should ever see.
Or smell, for that matter. More smokers there than a Baltimore Bingo Hall. The museum was also more or less in the middle of the district. Ain't irony grand?
After we managed to get out of the racier side of Amsterdam, we stopped at a museum called Our Lord In The Attic, which was a Catholic Church constructed in the upper floors of a few houses. It was built at a time when practicing Catholicsm openly was frowned upon in Amsterdam – to say its creator was inventive was a gross understatement.
Once we had finished touring the museum, we explored Amsterdam a bit more, and found ourselves at a square we had visited the first time we arrived in-town. Last time, the place was empty – but today, it was home to a carnival, seeing as Easter was tomorrow. Yeah, I don't know, either. Still was an entertaining experience, though we didn't go on any of the rides or play the games that were there. Not that I'm complaining – rides were overpriced for what they were, and carnie games are rigged, as-is.
Seeing as it was our last night in The Netherlands, the dinner was our last farewell to the crew we had become so well-acquainted with. Gonna miss those guys – they did their best to be as accommodating as possible.
CONTINUED IN PT II
