April 29 Something in Common

We are sailing all morning and have no need to hurry so I say in bed under my comforter and wait for Ron to bring me coffee, the dear.  After breakfast we have a glass blowing demonstration by one of the artisans from Wertheim, a town famous for glass.  He was taught the craft by his father and grandfather and has worked closely with Dale Chihuly over the years, collaborating with him on the installation at the Bellagio in Las Vegas.  It was entertaining and informative and fun to look at all the items for sale.  I do, however,  think the pieces were second to the artistry of Maui Glass in Makawao.

After lunch (yes we eat constantly) we dock in Miltenberg a medieval city with remnants of the wall around the town still standing.  We did not go up to the castle which was begun around 1200 but enjoyed looking at it high atop the hill adjacent to the town.  We did climb up to the Jewish Cemetery and were sad to see the grass knee high and the place untended.  Perhaps there is no one left from any of these families.

Our guide was lively and informative.  Originally from South Africa, she married a German man and ended up in Miltenberg where she lives with her husband and 2 daughters who've grown up and left home.  She mentioned that is costs almost 2000 euros to get a driver's license in Germany but renewal, at least, is free.  After her young daughter got 2 speeding tickets in close succession, the girl had to pay enormous fines and then see a psychiatrist to determine if she had a mental defect that was causing her to misbehave.  Hum.

Apparently we won her over because we've had dinner two nights running with Jacqueline, our elderly British friend.  She talked about going to India 16 times in connection with an orphanage she and her husband supported. On her first visit, she contracted dysentery and was gravely ill for 3 months.  We compared notes since I was also sick in India and discovered we'd both had a black tongue which was, to put it mildly, quite disconcerting.  I got well within three weeks which I credit to immediate care from the doctors that were in our tour group and to good doses of Cipro which I started taking on Joan's advice.  Did the trick.  On a happier note, both Jacqueline and I love Jane Austen and the Brontes.

April 28 The Sun'll Come Out Tomorrow

Awoke this morning to the sun shining brightly on the Rhine which made our bus ride to Marksburg Castle near Koblenz very scenic.  Built in the Middle Ages, the castle was more for defense and less for residence and it was the only castle in this area not damaged during the War.   We hiked up a steep winding road to the castle and had a nice tour.  Back to the ship which was traveling up stream the whole time we were gone, traversing though numerous locks.  It took several hours for the ship to travel what we accomplished on a bus in 30 minutes or so.

The Rhine starts in Lake Constance in the Swiss Alps before joining with the River Main (pronounced Mine.)  We are travelling along the Rhine Gorge, a most beautiful hilly area of the middle Rhine and home to castles and churches too numerous to count.  It is particularly beautiful when the terrain becomes hilly and you see the terraced vineyards and the pear and apple trees in full bloom.   One of the highlights was seeing Lorelei Rock and the small statue of the maiden.  It's easy to see why the story came into being because the river is deep, narrow and curving in this spot and requires a good captain to navigate through.  The entire gorge is 45 miles long which we accomplished in weather sunny enough to allow occasional forays to the open air deck.  We spent the entire afternoon and evening on the ship so had ample time for relaxation and being out on our private stateroom deck.  Sehr gut.

April 27 A Long Time Coming

By the time we were done yesterday, it was a bit too late to give an accounting of our day.  We started in Koln - Cologne - with a walking tour of the old town culminating at the Cathedral.  Started in 1248, the cathedral was not completed for 632 years.  Since it's made of sandstone, the exterior is almost black, a result of the pollution generated by the adjacent and busy railway station.  I joined in the spirit of it and lit a candle once inside.  With great reluctance, we left the cathedral and went back out into the pouring down freezing rain immediately making our way to a department store for more warm clothing.  My sharp-eyed shopping companion, Miss Jackie, spotted a soft zipper sweater on sale for 10 euros. Good job!  And the best news is that I am now in possession of the perfect outfit for our outings.  You have your tee shirt, your long sleeved shirt, your new light jacket, your down vest, and Ron's now discarded windbreaker since he bought a heavier jacket. Neckwear is a thick scarf purchased at Kinderdijk and head gear is a newsboy cap and the windbreaker hood.  I am obviously not going for cute.  

After lunch and properly outfitted, we made our way to the Lindor Chocolate Factory only to enter with the student body of at least one entire middle school.  We decided to forego the factory and contented ourselves with the gift shop where appropriate souvenirs were gathered and purchased.  Ron was a bit chagrined when he realized that there was no chocolate for him.  Hey - each man for himself!

We walked on to the railroad bridge which, like several others in Europe, is resplendent with every variety of locks declaring the endless love of all the couples who placed them there.  The locks must add thousand of pounds of weight to the bridge.  Braving the bluster and holding on to our hats, we made it back to our ship, The Modi, for comfort and cafe au lait.

After dinner we stayed up late for the viola, clarinet and piano players from a local music school who played an hour long concert of mostly classical music.  It was just wonderful and a wonderful way to end our day.  

April 26 Tilting at Windmills

Underway at 11 PM last night, we left Amsterdam and made our way upstream to Kinderdijk, a World Heritage site and home to 19 of The Netherlands' 28 windmills.  These days, the mills are used only to pump water from the polders (areas of land reclaimed from the sea) into the surrounding water ways.  We learned  that the dykes enable towns like Kinderdijk to be below sea level so that when you see houses over the dykes from the ship, it's often only the roofs that are visible.  

Our guide for the windmill tour and others like him are volunteers.  Each windmill has a trained miller who also volunteers his time and who must work each weekend.  In exchange, they receive free rent and live in the mills full-time.  

As we have come to expect we had rain, sun and sleet during the 2-hour tour.  We have totally fine-tuned our outdoor wardrobes so we were comfortable until the sleet blew at an angle into our faces.  Well, small price to pay for the great experience of seeing one of the icons of The Netherlands.  Tulips yesterday, windmills today.  Ta da!

We took off at noon today and are making our way to Cologne.  We've been in Germany since dinner although you'd not know that unless someone informed you.    

Dinner turned out to be pretty remarkable.  We had a table for 5 and after we were seated, a charming woman from the Isle of Wight sat down with us.  We had good conversation and after awhile, she somewhat reluctantly admitted that she was 86 years old.  Reluctant because she said that after people find out how old you are they eventually treat you differently and not in a good way.  

We spent quite a bit of time discussing the WW II and how it was for her to live through it as a child.  At the urging of her grandson, she submitted an accounting of her experiences to the British National Archives who accepted and published it.  All of this was modestly reported to us and in such an interesting way.  Her husband died 10 years earlier and she has continued to travel alone despite failing eyesight.  At the end of the meal, she came very close to each of us so that she could look into our faces.  We told her that she could eat dinner with us any time and she said, "No, probably not again because you know all about me now."  I think she can absolutely do as you please when you're 86.  At least I'm going to.

April 25 He is Nothing If Not Clever

Up a bit early to have breakfast, pack and get on board for a drive into the country.  It's our day for the incomparable Keukenhof Gardens, sketchy weather and all.  The name means "kitchen garden" and the garden originally supplied fruits and vegetables for the owners of the large estate on which it resided.  Redesigned to resemble an English garden in 1857, it did not take on it's current look until a group of flower bulb exporters came up with a plan to open the grounds as a spring garden. The first spectacular springtime opening was in 1950.  

This year it opened March 24th and will close on May 16 - its typical two-month season. The entire rest of the year is spent readying the grounds for the next spring time, replacing all the grass and planting no less than 7 million spring flowering bulbs.  

It is hard to take in and you want to run from one gorgeous bloom to the next.  Hyacinths, lilacs, the biggest amaryllis I have ever seen and the incomparable tulips.  I could not stop taking pictures - one after the other - as we encountered wonderful varieties of color, size and texture.   We were deterred only by the freezing rain, and when it started to soak us to the skin, we headed for the shelter and warmth on our bus.  Our consolation was that the flowers love the rain and the cold.

Back at the hotel, 70 of us milled about wet hungry and homeless.  Overpriced and mediocre (at best) food, a few annoying guests, and a two-hour wait led to Larry's delightful and most welcome plan.  He is nothing if not clever.  We made arrangements to leave our luggage and took a cab to the ship where we checked in all alone, found our staterooms and sauntered upstairs for a delightful buffet lunch.  

A little downtime in our rooms, a nice orientation and dinner, and off to bed.  Ah the good life.

April 24 What I Did For Love

A wonderful glass-walled restaurant on the canal and a good breakfast got us ready for our 2-hour walk this morning.  Our guide, an artist and 30-year Amsterdam resident, led us from our hotel to the Rijksmuseum describing the art and architecture of the city as well providing us a brief history and current culture.  The tax rate is either 35% or 52% depending on income level although, as in Scandinavia, people get a lot for their money.  Many people bike and each street has a bike lane - pedestrians beware.  We have the hang of it now although we've been chided a couple of times when we veered into the bike lane.  We watch for cars and bikes and use the reasonable cross walks counting on all to obey the rules.  

My fond hope for today was to do the walk and then to see both the Rijksmuseum, housing the Dutch masters, and the Van Gogh Museum.  Mr. Vincent is my favorite artist.  When the walk concluded at almost 12:30 PM and I saw the very lengthy line for the Rijksmuseum, I realized that I would have to pick only one museum to visit. Damn near Sophie's Choice.  

Oh - I forgot to mention that it was god-awful cold today with on and off rain and, yes, hail and sleet.  After 2 hours of that, my companions decided not to stand in the endless line for the museums.  I, as you might have guessed, would not be deterred.  I spotted  a likely line and after finding someone who spoke English, was assured that  this was it.  Cue the hail.  Brief respite.  Cue the rain and gale force winds.  My teeth threatened to start chattering but I quelled the urge because I figured once I started with that, all hope would be lost.  The line moved on by inches and I started to get suspicious that people were not queueing properly and that some persons crowding near the front were getting others to purchase their tickets.  I am admitting this only reluctantly since such thinking is not me at my finest.  By the time I got to the front I had read the sign that said "Fast line (NOT) Cash Only." I was then instructed that mine  was the credit card line although the distinction of the two was lost on me.  Much confusion followed with me not getting the picture that you could convert to your own currency or keep the charge in euros.  I finally told the woman that I did not care!  And she said kindly, "Well then you can just push one."  I was also forewarned that my entry time would be 2 PM - 45 minutes hence - and that I needed to make my way to the blue door of the distant museum.  I cleverly made my way to a likely group of buildings only to find an enormous queue and no prominent entry, let alone a blue door.  Fortunately, the guides were helpful and told me the lines were for those without tickets - score for me! - and that there was no longer a blue door.  Hah!  I was waved vaguely toward a building where I would be able to enter immediately causing me to damn near wilt with relief.  

Still $#!! freezing.  It took a few more guides before I found the proper entry but now had to wait 10 more minutes outside.  You know I had my phone out and was checking the time constantly even though my head was telling me that I should people-watch and enjoy being in front of the Van Gogh Museum.  That would have worked save for the bone-chilling wind.  At one minute prior to my time slot I entered the museum only to be called back to the turnstile because my ticket wound not scan until  2 on the dot.  I literally did a little dance during the final 10-second countdown.

The good news is that the Van Gogh Museum was damn near a spiritual experience.  There were a few paintings I had to tear myself away from and kept wanting to return to.  Although the place was crowded, people were respectful and we all got to see the breathtaking work.  I was almost overwhelmed to think of Vincent dying at age 37 but like Don McLean said, the world was too much for someone so beautiful.  I think of what the world lost with Anne Frank and Vincent Van Gogh dying so young, but rejoice in all they managed to give us during their brief lives.  

April 22 - Leaving Without a Hitch

Packed, transported, checked in, and admitted to the KLM Lounge with time for a leisurely snack and a cup of coffee before heading to our gate.  On board, the preferential treatment started immediately with attention from our very tall Dutch flight attendant.  (I subsequently found out that the Dutch people are among the tallest in the world which I have now observed for myself).  I did enjoy a movie, the breakfast more than the dinner, and the coffee, as well as a long nap which had to suffice for a night's sleep.  More good fortune upon landing when we heard Jackie and Larry calling our names.  Finally out into the Amsterdam brisk air and then on to our hotel where we were treated to a room with a view of the canal - one of several that transverse the city. 

We walked a bit around the hotel and since it was Saturday, we saw several spirited rowing contests on the canal where young people were cheered on by their parents.  All of this took place in blustery and chilly weather.  After an early dinner we headed to the Anne Frank House.  I decided to read Anne's diary again and was taken aback when I realized that she was born less than 20 years before I was and that she shares a birthday with my daughter Laura.  What Anne lived through was terrible but she left a poignant and unforgettable legacy for us all.  Quite an end to our first day in Amsterdam.