Back to Amsterdam

AMSTERDAM July 4th - July 7th, 2009

It'd been 10.5 years since I'd been in Amsterdam.

My first visit, in January 1999, was three short days on the beginning of a three week tour of major art-stops in Europe. Touring with a group from college, we spent the brief few days hitting the tourist haunts and the nights dancing before our quick departure. I was excited to return, older, (hopefully) much wiser, and curious about the city I had been to long ago, heard so much about, but hadn't spent quality time.

We easily navigated from the train station to our hotel, which was in a great location near a beautiful canal (though it isn't hard to be near a canal here, admittedly). Patti and I wasted no time in grabbing a drink while Reed wanted some down time, and found a great outdoor haunt for whiskey and people watching. It was hot, and the pub had a baby pool one could wade in if so inclined.

Street view of Amsterdam.

Amsterdam is a city mostly at or slightly below sea level, and small land-wise, so most people get around on bicycles, which was evident immediately. After hanging for a bit, I decided to head out to find a gig that promised bluegrass/rock/punk/metal/folk/accordion tunes, which to me sounded like a perfect blend. Navigating the tram alone, I missed my stop and hoofed it back to the area I was looking for, only to finally reach the destination, knock on the decrepit looking door, and be told by a man playing up to Amesterdam cliches that the gig had moved, literally, near the stop I had accidentally got off on. I shrugged and began my walk back when I passed a very small, cute bar that could have passed for a simple but charming cafe. A man in his 60s started chatting me up, and before I knew it I was sitting with a few other Dutch men, spending the 4th of July in the company of a delightful entourage.

Soon I abandoned my plans to find the ecclectic gig, and settled in to bourbon and gingers, great conversation, and taking over the jukebox with my newfound Dutch friends. Turns out the owner was selling the bar in a few days, and it was a kind of last hurrah with him and some of his friends and neighbors.

My Dutch 4th of July buddies

I also learned what "large bike" or rather "bike that really is a huge wheel barrow"means in Dutch: "Bakfeets". A photo below:

Around 3 a.m. I headed back to my hotel, in a pricy but safe cab, having had an enjoyable evening with new friends who I likely would never see again but was so glad I had met.

The next morning Patti and I headed to the Museum of Bags and Purses which featured not only famous styles of purses and bags over the last 500 years, but bags from the likes of Madonna and Hillary Clinton and purses from all over the world. Admittedly a girly activity, I loved visiting it.

I swear I had a purse like this in 6th grade!

Who doesn't want a diamond Diet Coke purse? Really?

Found Hooch Street!

I spent the afternoon in the large Vondelpark in central Amsterdam, reading, writing, and listening to live music. Sitting there on a beautiful Sunday afternoon, it reminded me a lot of bein back in Denver. I also befriended Ghengis, quite the large pooch.

This dog was awesome!

Texas musician playing in Vondelpark in Amsterdam.

That evening we had a delicious dinner at an Indonesian restaurant, then headed out on a Canal Tour of the city, sailing in and out of the cities storied canals, while taking in the famous, and infamous, landmarks of the city.

Sporting some rad hats

Like glass.

Can't quite recall how I captured this.

Finally the next day we rented bicycles and Patti and I headed up first to a floating flower market and then to a huge weekend market packed with people and goods ranging from books to purses to antiques to clothes to fresh-squeezed orange juice. We then met up with the sleeping-in Reed, and took in another market nearby our hotel while sampling some delicious Dutch ice cream. Eventually we made it over to the Heineken Brewery, and enjoyed a delightful tour with not one but two complimentary brews.

Sooo touristy, I love it!

Pretty brewery stained glass windows.

That's right, put 'em up.

After the tour we continued on throughout the city on our bikes, but after some time we realized we were lost and Patti took an unfortunate tumble from her bike. There were police actually nearby who helped, and she was able to get up, brush off, and continue on as we finally found our way back. We took it easy the rest of the night, and I stayed up into the late hours doing much needed laundry in the creepy hotel basement laundromat.

On our last morning when Reed and I went to return our bikes it was pouring rain. We had been blessed up to that point to have had beautiful weather, so one morning of getting soaked seemed a small price to pay (though I did try in vain to blow dry my jeans before leaving for the airport).

It had been a fun adventure with Patti and Reed, but I was now excited to leave The Netherlands and have a few days of somewhat solo travel in London--another place I had not been for 10 1/2 years.

Hanging in The Hague

The Hague, July 2nd - July 4th, 2009

When my friend Patti and I discussed meeting up in Ireland and The Netherlands, she mentioned wanting to visit The Hague. With which I responed, what's The Hague?

I was ignorant of the existence of the city that houses the World Court. It intrigued me though, and since Patti offered to make the travel arrangements and I'm always up for going to new places, I thought the idea sounded great.

So we headed from Dublin in a short flight to The Motherland, where my ancestors hailed, The Netherlands. Arriving with few incidents and greeted with warm weather, we exchanged some money and got on a bus to head over to our hotel. It didn't take long to have an incident though, as a scooter ran into our bus, and took off--it was the scotter's fault--and we ended up transferring buses.

View of what we saw when we existed the train in The Hague.

Our hotel ended up being a few short tram stops from more action in the city, but after dumping our stuff, Patti and I headed out for some dinner. Immediately it was apparent that this city had flavor--people from what seemed like all corners of the globe were gathered at outdoor restaurants and cafes, dining and laughing and conversing in a varied assortment of languages. We secured a table and settled in, and quickly determined we needed to shift our hotel the next day to where more of the action was.

Lobby outside our first hotel in The Hague before transferring to the second.

We headed the next day to the Gementee Museum, which is quite possibly the coolest, and most enjoyable museum I have ever visited. There was a wide array of exhibits, and Reed and I had an entirely fun time as we share an affinity of taking photographs. I also couldn't imagine a better companion than a 16-year-old who is on the same plane of goofiness as me to see such a place.

Stick 'em up, entreance of the Gemeente Museum, The Hague

RARRRRR!

Reed in the red room

Welcome to the glass house

Dutch girl in the red room

Tree painting in The Hague.

Reed in the dark.

That evening we met up with Patti's longtime friend Rosita who was a Dutch diplomat for years and became our tour guide for the evening. We headed to the boardwalk, and sitting near the ocean, enjoyed ice cream, sangria, and a summer evening in a city I had never heard of a few months before but was now wishing I had more time to explore.

Pretty much this excited every time I have ice cream, especially with sprinkles.

On the same bean bag!

Public toilets to discourage public urination. Brilliant!

Dutch sunset.

Later that evening we headed to a bar closer to the hotel and had some tasty Dutch bar snacks. Very important cultural experience, and extremely delicious.

Awesome.

The next day I walked over to the public library and donated my last copy of Twilight, "Breaking Dawn", before going to visit the World Peace Flame with Reed and Patti. We also saw a group on a bachelor party pub crawl where the groom was dressed as a sumo wrestler, but I sadly missed the photo opp. I did however get a pic with myself and a windmill. The last afternoon in The Hague was spent wandering, tasting some herring it's known for, and enjoying a beautiul Saturday. Soon though, it was time to board the train for Amsterdam, where more adventure awaited.

World Peace Flame

Reed and the Herring Sandwich

Dutch girl, Dutch windmill

The Hague, Street View

Dublin does not disappoint

Dublin, June 29th - July 2nd, 2009

Ireland.

A destination I had looked forward to for at least a year and a half. Initially, I had planned to celebrate my 30th birthday here, in the land famous for the whiskey I love and the red-bearded men I fancy. Instead, I found myself there two weeks after my birthday, meeting my friend Patti from Denver and her son Reed.

I made it to Dublin with relative ease in the afternoon, navigating from the airport to the bus to the hotel smoothly, but having just missed Patti and Reed due to a late flight. Undeterred, I attempted to walk to meet them at the restaurant they were at, but instead, feeling a bit lost, hailed a friendly van-taxi driven by a delightful man. In a few minutes I found them, and after an unsuccessful venture to the Guiness Storehouse, which was closed for the afternoon, young Reed decided to go back to the hotel while Patti and I caught up over a few beers.

Senor with our first brews in Dublin.

It wasn't long before our wandering landed us to the unmistakenly touristy yet enjoyable Quay's Pub with live music played by a duo consisting of some kind of flutist and guitarist, and where my Magic Greek hat seemed to pinpoint me as the Lady Most Likely to be Willing to Dance with the Old Men. Never shying away from an opportunity to dance with old men before, I quickly obliged.

Delightful Irish jig players.

We soon continued on, first landing in a bar/club called Noo Bar that was having a free BBQ and met two brothers who owned a small pub in the area called O'Donoghue's and again we shifted there. We hung for an hour or so, with them telling us to look them up the next day, and knowing well we wouldn't. Dublin in a few hours time had already shown promised charm.

After getting some needed sustenance the next morning:

we headed again to the Guiness Storehouse, which is one of the best beer tours I've been done, which I think to that point in my life consisted of four. It was self-guided, there was an indoor waterfall, and best of all you sip your cold brew at the end of the tour in a window-filled room overlooking the city. It also doesn't hurt to have your beer toppeed off with a foamy four-leaf clover.

Hops on the tour.

The three of us, very contented.

Oh Guinness! You great brew.

This was pretty sweet.

I've been a long fan of the Guiness advertising campaigns, and was most impressed with the display they had of all the marketing tactics over the years that impress on so many of our minds that, yes indeed, life is better with a Guiness.

Later that afternoon, Patti had arranged a short bus tour out of the city where we toured Maldive Castle and admired its beautiful grounds, and had delicious coffee and dessert in the grass. We also drove to one of the richest smaller towns outside of Dublin, Howth, and even got a view of islands? in Dublin Bay where Bono and S'nead o'Connor have residences. This small taste outside of the city was enough for me to envision a trip where I returned, car rented, three weeks of open road before me, and nothing but Ireland to explore.

On the grounds of Maldive castle.

Coffee and castles, in my element.

View of where Bono lives, way over Yonder. I decided not to call on him this time around.

After an early dinner of fish n chips, that night Patti and I attempted to see some live music, and went to a Lonely Planet recommended pub, Hughes Bar, that did indeed have music, but it was more a private practice session, and the bar was so bloody hot that after one pint we were ready to head back in for the night.

The next day I made it to the Jameson distillery though, where I earned my diploma in Jameson tasting. Plus, you know it's going to be an interesting day once you've had your first cocktail before 11. I met Reed and Patti at Wagamama for lunch, and wondered why there isn't one in Denver. We then proceeded to tour the Book of Kells on the beautiful and famed Trinity College campus (but sorry, no photos inside).

Who says I wasn't studying important things in Dublin?

Our final night in Dublin we had a delicious dinner at a tapas place, and an interesting interaction with a passerby who asked if he could have some of our food (we were sitting at an outdoor table), and before we could react, stole food off our plate and ran. The owner spotted this, and brought us some food to replace what was snatched. We wrapped up the night in Temple Bar area again, but this time were not too into the bar, and after watching our favorite street musicians for the third time in three days, turned in.

Think bluegrass/funk/rock/fun.

I'd seen plenty of Dublin in a few days, and my short time there did make me realize I will return to Ireland when I have more time and a chance to get beyond the city limits. I was ready to move on to The Netherlands where I knew the people would be tall and I hadn't been in over 10 years.

Part of the beauty just outside of Dublin.

No worries, if you don't come back to Ireland, he'll cut you.

Dizzy!

Here is Dizzy's Video! enjoy!

Runnin Runnin

Mansfield, England June 24-29, 2009

The next stop on my European tour took me far up north, to the London Luton airport. As with many instances during travel, things didn't go as smoothly as planned.

I had booked one night at a Travel Lodge "near" the hotel, and after taking the cab from the airport to the hotel, I knew I wasn't in the cheap confines of India anymore (as it was, the progression from Turkey to Greece than the UK had steadily prepared me for increasing costs of goods and services). After wincing and handing over my cab fare, I tried to enter the hotel, but with no luck. A young couple was also trying to get in, and soon another guest came out and said the hotel was closed because of water damage. Being 11 p.m., in a new country after a four hour flight, it wasn't what I wanted to hear. Eventually though, an employee came and opened the door and informed us we would be moved to a new Travel Lodge. Fair enough, and after some more waiting around, and our cabbie getting lost on the way, I finally found my way to a bed around 1 a.m.

The next day I took a taxi to the train station (which was right near the airport) and was ridiculously early. Being so early, one would think I would have enough time to figure out how to board the train.

However, I learned a valuable lesson: the train comes and the doors only open for about 30 seconds, and close, and don't open again. I was trying to be a "good passenger" and go to the carriage where my seat was labeled. Needless to say, I was too slow, and the doors closed despite my banging on them. Defeated, I stepped back and the train sped of.

How I managed to navigate around India, Nepal, and Turkey and then mess up in the UK was beyond me, and at the same time, hilarious.

After talking to a very helpful train station employee, I waited two more hours (because the next train was cancelled) and finally boarded (quickly this time) my train to Nottingham. I met a man on the train, in his late 50s, who told me both his daughters had traveled a lot like I was doing, and that really taking this kind of time out to explore is an investment in one's self. I couldn't agree with him more, though it made me think perhaps it was easier to justify the money I spent on fun in Turkey and Greece...

In Nottingham I hooked up with my friends Anne and Ed that I met in Southern India. Friday morning after a short run, we headed to Sherwood Forest to see Robin Hood's tree and, naturally, have a picnic near it.

Stylin' in Robin's hood

Seriously I was there.

Ed's mom was gracious enough to put us up for a few days, and it was really nice to be in a house again, watch TV, and have home cooked meals. The next day we headed off for a big "surprise" as Ed had told us. It turned out that a new museum was being dedicated near Mansfield and Sir David Attenborough, who is the famous host of the BBC Natural History documentaires the Life Collections, was speaking. I had only been privvy to Sir David's excellence the day before, but Ed and Anne were long time fans. After the dedication we also got to see Robin Hood's Cave (the man was all OVER this area) and I had my first ever English scones with jam and cream, and loved them.

Sir David holla-ing.

Mansfield countryside.

Later, we did a driving tour of Mansfield which culminated (for me) in the successful find of the last Twilight book. We also stopped for more tea, which Senor definitely enjoyed.

All four of us are in this pic.

The next day was the defining moment for the weekend though; our half-marathon. At the end of our Southern India tour, Ed had suggested that we go up to Mansfield and run a half marathon with him, as he wanted to get in shape before he moved to Argentina to be with his girlfriend. At the time I had been eating my way through Southern India and I was open to the idea, and once I realized it fit perfectly into my European Adventure, agreed, and we got Anne to go along with it.

We woke to a perfect morning for a race; cloudy, cool (around 55 Farenheit) and little wind. Stretched out, we made it over the start, and despite my lack of regular training, we all went for it, and I surprisingly did better than my 2006 half marathon time (though by only 5 minutes, and my 2006 half marathon was at altitude, and this one was at sea level). Regardless, we all did awesome, and had some afternoon beers to celebrate.

Me, Anne, Ed's Friend and Ed pre-race.

This guy totally beat me.

Showing off the high-five.

Ed and I in post-race glory.

After the race Anne had to head back to Northern Ireland and go do dentist-ly things and the next day I again boarded a plane, but this time to a place I had been looking forward to going to for a very long time, a land of dark beer, great accents, and men with red beards: Dublin.