Dutch Cheese Tour Part Two

Leiden, Gouda, Delft, Rotterdam

I spent most of the double-decker train ride to Leiden staring out the window. The land is flat, like parts of Texas, but there are definitely some distinct differences. Even in winter the grass is very green and all of the fields are littered with canals and marshes. You see wild, giant swans and storks wading through the grass, occasionally stopping to pick something up of the ground or out of the water. Every once in a while we would pass a cute little village in the distance. At one point we passed a small lane that honestly had a line of chickens crossing it at the same moment we drove by (I was tickled by this).

Leiden from the Brucht

I arrived in Leiden much sooner than I had expected- all of the cities look further apart on the map than they are in reality. I met up with my friend Josta, who I stayed with and we had a tea. She had some work to do that afternoon so I entertained myself by walking around the town. Leiden is not very big, known mostly for its university. Like all Dutch towns, it is riddled with canals and surrounded on all sides by rivers. As it was Sunday, not much was open, but I walked through the old city center and up to the Brucht- a citadel/fortress erected in the year 1150. I believe it is the highest point in Leiden and provides nice views in every direction.
I also walked through one of the city’s only remaining windmills, which showed what the living areas would have looked like and explained in detail the mechanisms and uses of the windmill. (Fun fact- the first known windmills were built in the Middle East around the year 700 AD. The crusaders brought the idea back with them, making various changes throughout the years).
I also walked through some of the neighborhoods (again looking in windows from time to time, I promise with non-creepy but strictly academic curiosity) and then down to the University. Since it was a pretty chilly day, I hid out in the University library long enough to let my fingers thaw out.
When I met back up with Josta she informed me that we had both been invited to a dinner party in Rotterdam. I bought a bottle of Spanish wine and we hopped in the car for a (surprisingly short once again) drive. When we arrived we discovered her friend Vera’s boyfriend (who is Indian) had invited several guys that were visiting from India that he had met that day, as well as a guy from Germany/New England (Maine and Pennsylvania I think) and another Dutch couple. All in all, we ended up being a very lively bunch!

After a delicious dinner, someone noticed one of the tapestries hanging on the living room wall depicted a traditional form of Indian stick dancing. This led to a massive group lesson in the dance, followed by the viewing of several bollywood dances on youtube with everyone doing their best to imitate them. After these we all demanded to be taught a traditional Dutch dance so a song featuring an accordion was played while we all jumped and stomped around. Texas was up next and I decided on a fairly easy line dance, although I did explain that the Two Step was the REAL Texas dance. The weird German/American guy then played some crazy German techno and we all awkwardly watched him rave for a few minutes. Then Josta saved the day by showing us a very hearty dance she had learned in South Africa. By this point we were all laughing so hard at each other that everything we did became progressively more and more ridiculous. This may have been my favorite night spent in The Netherlands.

I found this picture on a
Dutch Cheese website

Kaaswinkeltje

The next day I continued my Cheese Tour, catching an early train to Gouda. (Fun fact: The Dutch pronunciation of this town is “HOW-dah”, with a guttural H. I said it with the correct local pronunciation as often as possible but no one seemed impressed all day.)

Kaaswaag
Cheese Weigh House

Gouda is very similar to Edam (although not as precious- nowhere is!) and equally known for its cheese market. The markt centers around the town hall and cheese weigh-house (Kaaswaag), not to be misidentified because of the large relief on the front of the building. As I strolled through the streets and around the canals I passed several cheese markets and stores, but the BIG ONE was called Kaaswinkeltje. This store, I am sure, has a second location in Heaven.

There were literally mountains of cheese piled up, each kind with a little dish of sample cubes. All of the walls were also lined with giant rounds and there was a large (for lack of other words) trough of some of the fancier and international cheeses. Besides those, all of them were locally grown in South Holland, mostly on small farms. Some particularly interesting ones were the Old Gouda, the Gouda with walnuts and a bright green Pesto Gouda. I probably had 15 different ones in my hands at one point but finally had to narrow my selection down to three: a middle-aged Gouda, an old Texel, and another one that was just a young, local one. I also bought a small wedge of Manchego for Josta.

Even though I was far from starving after all that cheese-sampling, I hadn’t eaten a decent breakfast so I decided to stop for lunch. I picked a small place right off the markt and ordered a very typical ‘pannenkoeken of appel’. It was a giant pancake, with apples cooked into it pepperoni-pizza style. It was served with a kind of syrup and powdered sugar. Verdict: very tasty, but not overly flavorful.

Markt, Gouda

After lunch there was more walking around. I noticed that the canals here seemed to be deeper than in some of the other cities, with larger boats in them. After covering most of the town and quite a few shops I decided it was early enough to hit another town before returning to Leiden.

Blue Ceramics in Delft

I hopped on a train to Delft, a small touristy town on in the southwest of the country known for its white and blue ceramic pieces. I walked immediately to the markt, one of the largest I had seen, and then into a few of the ceramic shops. I then found a little old man that was selling antique ice skates and we chatted for a good long while. I took the long way back through town to the train station and then headed back to Leiden.
Josta and I had previously discussed making a traditional Dutch/Texan dinner that night so I stopped of at the grocery store to pick up some ingredients. I have been buying quite a few of my meals at grocery stores, but whereas before I was just looking for something that looked tasty and inexpensive- it turns out shopping for specific things can be very difficult in a foreign language. I did the best I could, but was not overly optimistic about a Texan dish with no jalapeños, cilantro and some sort of unidentified meat. Back at her place we started cooking, her methodically chopping potatoes and I improvisingly throwing things into a pot. We decided to call the meat I bought ‘chicken’, and (like always) I started with a base of beer. Luckily enough, she had a very nice selection of spices so I was able to get a good flavor going.
We ended up with Stamppot met Endives- a kind of mashed potato dish mixed with endives and a gravy and ‘drunk Texas Cheesy Chicken’, named such due to the noticeable flavor of beer. We were both pleased with both dishes and celebrated our success with some natural apple juice (unfiltered, as good, if not better, than the apple juice I was obsessed with in Austria) and strawberry custard.

That night her Welsh roommate Rhys invited us to a jazz bar (it was ‘improvisational jam night’) where we met up with a group of his Greek friends. I ended up getting into a very interesting political debate with a guy named Leonidus, who had some very strong opinions on the use of violence to send a message (he was pro, I was anti, claiming that at that point it’s more than just a message) and then the age of societies in relation to each other and a whole lot of other things. When the three of us got back to the house we turned on the television and I was introduced to Orangetv- a network that continuously plays really low-budget, overly cheesy Dutch music videos. (Imagine a very ugly older man playing an accordion in an old-fashioned dentist chair). I was an immediate fan.

Rotterdam Marina

The next (even colder than the previous) morning I said goodbye and hopped on a train towards Rotterdam. Rotterdam isn’t (in my opinion) a particularly interesting or pretty city, but known as The Netherlands’ ‘second city’, having been entirely rebuilt after being bombed completely in the Second World War. It is also known for its untraditional modern architecture and wild nightlife. It does however still sit on many canals.
My interest in Rotterdam was actually a small town to the south called Kinderdijk, known for the 19 windmills throughout its fields. (Built around 1740).

Waterbus to Kinderdijk

After checking into a small hotel I walked down to the harbor and caught a series of waterbuses to Kinderdijk, where I planned to rent a bicycle and explore the windmills. I stopped on the way to buy picnic supplies. Unfortunately, the entire town seemed to be closed and there was nowhere to rent a bicycle.

It was also so cold and windy that I barely saw another human being as I was walking down the paths in the windmill fields. If you don’t believe me, I can prove that it was so cold that all of the canals were FROZEN over. I passed on the picnic because I was sure that if I stopped I would also freeze into the wilderness and become part of the scenery.

Eventually I turned around and caught the first bus I could find back to Rotterdam. I ended up taking a very hot shower to thaw out and having my picnic in my hotel room. (It was a pasta salad with carrot balls- that’s right, they don’t have carrot sticks, they have carrot balls- and some large almond cookies that are very typical of that part of the country). I have to admit that I wasn’t brave enough to face the cold again that night and spent the rest of the evening watching Dutch television and snacking on cheese.


Random Netherlands Observations

• The stereotype of the Dutch is that they are very blunt, which I was able to notice firsthand on more than one occasion. I've also noticed that a lot of decorating tastes lean towards stating the obvious.
•Nobody wears sunglasses. I didn’t see a single pair during my entire trip- maybe it’s a seasonal fashion here?
• The Dutch toilets have a little ‘reflection ledge’ inside the bowl so you may ‘ponder what comes out as carefully as what goes in’.

"Should we walk to church today or ride the bikes?"
-"Nah, let's just take the yacht" 

Dutch Cheese Tour Part One

Edam and Volendam

The Dutch eat a lot of cheese. They are also, on average, the tallest nationality in the world (men averaging 5’11 and women 5’6. Their doorways are now legally required to be at least 7’6, all of this according to my Lonely Planet guidebook). Therefore I have come to the conclusion that to look tall and slender like the Dutch, I must consume more cheese.
I kicked off my self-invented cheese tour in Edam- a darling little town about a 40-minute bus ride northeast of Amsterdam. In addition to producing a fairly well-known cheese, Edam is also known for its giant cheese market, held Wednesdays in July in August.

Edam Cheese Market

Here’s a little tidbit from wikipedia: “The cheese market was the primarily boost of the economy of Edam in the 16th century. On the 16th of April in 1526 Emperor Charles V gave Edam the right to have a market every week. In 1594 this right was given for eternity by Prince Willem I as a sign of appreciation for the good collaboration during the siege of Alkmaar.”

Edam is less touristy than it’s neighbor town, Volendam, but oh-so-much cuter. It’s very quiet, with canals along all of the cobblestone streets and hand-operated drawbridges to let the boats pass. The people are indeed very tall. While walking around in search for a hotel, I decided I needed a break from the heavy backpack and popped into a tucked-away little bar/café near the center. It was full of broad-shouldered, gossipy workers on their lunch breaks, and they all greeted me as I walked in. There were about 10 of them aged 20s to 70s, all with at least 3 empty coffee cups in front of each of them. (The Dutch are the world leaders in coffee intake; drinking on average almost 150 liters coffee per year or about three cups per day. The United States is second, but lies well behind with 15 percent.) I sat at the bar and as I had a coffee, the woman who owned the place came and talked to me. She was also very nice and had a few interesting suggestions for how to spend my day.

Café Harmonie

After my coffee break, I headed towards the tourist information center to ask about inexpensive places to stay in town. This inquiry seemed borderline overwhelming to the woman working there, and finally she came up with only one name of a hotel. She gave me some very confusing directions (especially considering the entire town could fit in any outdoor American concert venue) and after a few laps around all of the streets, I finally found it. A small place called Café Harmonie, it appeared to be a very cute little bar/coffee house. It was closed. At this point my shoulders were aching so I called the number on the door, explained that I had been told that this establishment was a hotel and asked for advice on where to stay. It turns out, the owner also rents rooms above the café, and came racing down the street on his bicycle (wearing his wooden clogs!!) to let me in. The room was very nice, although leaning on a slight diagonal angle. He handed me the keys without even asking my name or for any money and then disappeared.

Volendam Marina

I spent the rest of the afternoon walking around Edam and then on over to the neighboring town of Volendam where I explored the marina, a street market and some typical (although slightly touristy) shops. By the time I headed back to Edam (about 5 miles away) the temperature had dropped and the wind had picked up, so I was very relieved to make it back to my room. That evening I decided to treat myself to a nice-ish dinner so I cleaned myself up a little and headed back out. For a Saturday, the town seemed remarkably dead. I finally settled on a place called the Dam Restaurant, which was beautiful. Outside, chairs were covered with big, fluffy, fur throws (although no one was sitting in them) and inside was mostly dark, natural wood, large oil paintings on the walls, multiple chandeliers all around a giant fireplace. I sat under a large tree full of little lights. Each of the tables had a candle and live flower.

Farmhouse Cheeses

I started the meal with pumpkin ravioli, which was delightful, and for dessert ordered the Farmhouse Cheese spread. This consisted of 6 cheeses: 2 French and 3 Dutch, all from small, private cheese houses. I really enjoyed all of them, especially the blue, against my normal preferences. During the meal I tried a beer from a local brewery, which was very nice but very strong.
After dinner it was still early so I decided it was time to try going out in The Netherlands (I had not done so yet). I walked through the whole town and sadly, couldn’t find one bar with two people in it. I gave up and had one beer by myself in the bar beneath my room before calling it a night.

Sunday morning was also very quiet. I had a lovely breakfast of ham, cheese, fresh warm buns with an assortment of fresh fruit jams and preserves. As Edam was one of the most pleasant towns I have ever seen, I decided to give it one last stroll-through before taking off. I imagine all of the women were at home or church or somewhere, but the canals were lined with men and their fishing poles. (I didn’t see any of them catch anything). I admit I looked in all of the windows of the homes I passed, and each of them showed me a living room in front of a dining room, with a mirroring large window on the other side of the house. Almost all of these rooms were very elegantly and sparsely decorated, with a vase holding a single flower in the middle of the table. I found it a little disconcerting to not see any ‘clutter’ in any of the homes.

Easteregg Speed Bump

As I was being nosy, I found myself tripping more than my normal amount- a fact that I am blaming on the town’s easter-egg-esque speed bumps that blend in perfectly with the cobblestone streets.

More Fun Dutch Facts
(mostly from the Lonely Planet guidebook)
• Their current queen, Beatrix, is the richest woman in the world. Her son, Prince Willem-Alexander, met his Argentinean wife at a party in Spain. She won the hearts of the Dutch when she made fun of her husband on live national television.

• The nation exported more than 689 million kilos of cheese in 2008, adding up to 42 kg per inhabitant.
• In 2020, one in five people in the Netherlands will be aged over 65.
• There are 1180 windmills in the Netherlands.
• From 2005-2008, one third of the births in the country were home deliveries.
• Seven out of eight locals have internet access at home- the highest percentage in the EU.

Amsterdam

I was lucky enough to be able to house/dog sit for a friend in Amsterdam. He lives outside of the center so it was nice to kind of get a feel for real life there. Unfortunately, every time I tried to walk to the center I got irrevocably lost, and ended up resigning myself to the bus after the first couple attempts. The first day there I walked into a bar way out of the way of everything to have lunch. Again, I was a little confused by the Dutch menu, but cheated by using my guide as opposed to ask for one in English.

The sandwiches were inexpensive and as I couldn’t decide between the ‘cheese’ one and the ‘hummus with roasted veggies’ one I ordered (and devoured) them both. They were delicious! I got some weird looks for also drinking both coffee and a glass of beer, but hey, what can you do. The bar was really cool, I’m fairly sure it slanted oddly, but floor, walls and angled ceiling were all a dark rich wood and the furniture was all old with a lot of character. There was a giant brown cat walking around, but politely staying off the tables and not bothering the patrons.

Damrak Street

After lunch I headed to the center and walked down some of the more touristy and well-known streets. I headed down Damrak, past all of the souvenir shops to the main plaza, Dam square, and from there into the red light district.

The Prostitute Windows
(I stole this picture from google
images- they get mad if they see
a camera)

It was surprising, yet not entirely unexpected to see all of the prostitutes in their little windows, especially the ones immediately opposite a giant old church. There was also a preschool between the church and a smoke shop, across the street from some of the prostitutes, which I decided I liked in theory.

The basement cultivation in
Cannabis College

There were also a ton of bakeries with the most beautiful pastries in the windows- some (but not all) containing special ‘happy’ ingredients. Out of curiosity I bought a space muffin to try later on back at the house.

Scandalous plates
recovered from Pompeii

After a while I decided to warm up inside somewhere, and it was then that I stumbled across the Sex Museum. (There was another ‘erotic museum’ that looked sketchy that I had passed earlier.) This one featured art about sex- dating from ancient Greece to present day, and it was actually fascinating! I felt a little dirty going in there on my own, but then really who cares. My favorite pieces were little porcelain figurines from Japan in the 16th century, as well as the photos from the late 1800s (They were the most creative).

Bloemenmarkt

The rest of that day was spent exploring the center, the canals, and even accidentally what seemed to be a little china-town section. I also stumbled across the Bloemenmarkt- the flower market- which was lovely. There you can find all sorts of bloomed flowers, as well as bulbs and seeds for tulips, orchids- you name it.
That night I bought some groceries to cook with at the house (And a block of Dutch cheese, of course). After dinner, I had one tentative bite of my Space muffin and passed on out nice and early. I had no desire to finish it and that was the extent of my Dutch drug usage.

Gassan Diamonds
(notice the ring on my pinkie!)

The next day I walked around some more (took Hercules, the dog, on a long walk in a nearby park) and ducked into a lot of shops for a break in the cold. One of the things the Netherlands are known for are their diamonds. I went into one of the largest manufacturing names- Gassan Diamonds- for a free tour. As I was the only one there at that time, I got my own private tour guide. We walked through the area where they were measuring and polishing the stones, then where they were setting and creating the jewelry. She described all of the ratings of a diamond, as well as the whole process very thoroughly. At the end, we went into a private gallery where one of my tour guide’s friends had been showing her designs. She opened it all back up for me and let me try on everything. While the 800,000 € earrings were a bit gaudy for my taste, there was a lovely, elegant white gold with diamonds and an emerald ring that was, in my opinion, very ‘me’. Finally I had to give it back and the tour continued, culminating in a free cup of coffee. A highly enjoyable event.

Van Gogh, self portrait

My plan for the following day had been to rent a bicycle (EVERYONE there rides them EVERYWHERE.) it was even colder and drizzlier than the previous days so despite my layers of long-underwear under my normal clothes I was so cold and miserable by the time that I arrived to the rental place that I just told them nevermind. Instead, I headed over to the museum district and decided to give the Van Gogh museum a go. (I van went? I gave it a gogh?) 

It was really interesting to see the progression of his work and actually very comparable to the Picasso museum in Barcelona. Sadly, there was only one reference to the ‘unfortunate ear incident’- I had kind of been hoping for the juicy details. Anyway, lots of gorgeous paintings (my favorites were the ones of the forest undergrowth and almond tree blossoms), as well as some live music on the ground floor.

Fun Dutch Facts

(from the Prostitute Information Center and Lonely Planet guidebook)

Cute little Dutch Pancakelets
(not sure what they're really called)

• One in ten Dutch youth aged 15 to 20 years has smoked pot in the past 30 days, one of the lowest rates in Europe.
• Prostitution was legalized here in 1810; brothels in the year 2000. All prostitutes must pay taxes.
• The nation that provides the most clients for the prostitutes is (big surprise here) England.
• The typical base-cost of a sexual encounter is 50€. This is usually a 15-minute ‘quickie’.

Belgium

Brussels

Grand Place, Brussels

So it turns out my plane didn’t go to Brusesls, but a small town about an hour outside called Charleroi. I ended up taking a bus into the town and then finding a hotel called Hotel Grande Cloche with a room overlooking one of Brussels better-known restaurants: Comme Chez Sol. The following morning I awoke super early and headed down to breakfast. (I love that it is typical for hotels and hostels here to include a breakfast!) The dining room was very pleasant, centered around a small buffet of meats, cheeses and breads. I ended up with orange juice, coffee, a croissant, two types of cheeses, ham, toast with nutella and a couple slices of tomato. When I got back to my table I realized that all of the place settings just had a knife. So I did another lap around the room in search of forks, with no success. When I sat back down I looked around and it appeared that no one had a fork, but no one else that I could see had the tomatoes. I started on the appropriate finger foods and waited until I was sure no one was looking at me to sneak bites of those. With tomato juice running down my hands surely someone noticed, but I felt pretty sneaky at the time. Regardless of being forkless, everything was delicious – especially the cheeses. I also particularly enjoyed the Tom Jones music playing in the background, namely ‘You can leave your hat on’ which placed three times while I was breakfasting.

The largest sugar bean in the world:
153 kg,  119 cm high

Afterwards I decided to walk down to the Grand Place (main square). It was huge and absolutely incredible! Very different architecture to anywhere I’ve been, the most comparable being Austria or Prague. I also passed more than a few chocolate shops and even a chocolate museum which I was unable to resist! It was very informative, especially the part discussing the different recipes for different types of chocolate where sampling was encouraged.

At the end of the exhibit was a room for demonstrations where a cute-as-the-dickens little man described to us very animatedly in French how he makes all of his creations (truffles, giant molds, the little cream-filled shells, etc). There were samples there too.

Manneken-Pis, Brussels

After leaving the museum I followed a group of Spanish tourists down the street who looked like they knew where they were going. They led me to an apparently famous statue of a little boy peeing, ‘el mannekin pis’. (pictured) This was surrounded by more chocolate shops and a few waffle stands. I wandered through the center of the town a little more before catching my train to Brugge (Bruges), one of the last barely-touched medieval Flemish towns.


Brugge
It was sunny when the train pulled into Brugge so I decided to walk from the station into the city center and find my hostel. It turns out... backpacks are really really heavy. I have trouble putting mine on if I have to pick it up from the floor and then I get all caught up in the straps and more often than not tip myself over. This has happened enough that I am no longer embarrassed by it.

Markt, Brugge

It was about a 20 minute walk into the town. This town is DARLING. They call it the ‘Venice of the North’. Little winding cobble stone streets with pointy houses all squished together. Very fairytale-village-esque. I finally made my way to the center and found my hostel without having to ask for directions from anyone! The place definitely had character- it’s motto was “just clean enough to be healthy, just dirty enough to be fun”. The main room was full of all sorts of interesting furniature pieces placed all hodge-podge around. (Like an upright piano in the corner, a giant old travel trunk as the stool- both under one of the four giant non-matching chandeliers.) The doors to the actual rooms were found along the small wooden curving staircase. I was in room #9.

Oops, I am getting ahead of myself- at this point I just dropped off the heavy backpack and headed back off to explore the town. It kept getting more and more charming- the buildings in the markt square were the stereotypical Flemish town image that comes to mind. Brugge is one of the cities with the largest amount secular gothic/medieval buildings in Europe. Right down a small shopping street leads to the Burg, which is also quite impressive architecturally.
I stopped for a late lunch in one of the small cafés I passed, a little out of the direct tourist area. I chose it because it appeared to have a very French-leaning menu. I ended up ordering the soup of the day (tomato based) and a quiche/croque monsieur type of main course. Both absolutely delicious!! (Especially exciting since the menu was in Dutch and I just kind of guessed and what I was ordering). I decided to save dessert for later.

After lunch I continued my exploration of the city, despite the fact that it was now drizzling. I walked around the canals, opted against the boat tours and followed along the side. I saw some beautiful homes, shops and darling little bridges. More than anything I saw shops for specialty chocolate, lace and beer.

One place I went into had a wall with one of every single of the 800ish Belgian beers on it. (I wonder if the 99 bottles of beer on the wall has Belgian origins?) I eventually caved and bought two truffles- one praline and one champagne, both of which were delicious.

 Finally the rain won me over and I headed back to the hostel. (By way of a waffle stand. Truly tasty, comparable to the Spanish Gofres.) It must be that I am just not used to hauling around that big ol’ backpack, but once in my room I took a nap, woke up later on for a little over an hour and then went back to sleep for the entire night.

Brugge fun facts:
• The typical Belgian toast is “santé!”, but in Brugge they say “up je mulle!”, literally translating to ‘on your face!’.
• The official symbol of the city is a bear. Incidentally, you hear the word a lot in colloquial conversation. Like something cool is ‘bérecool’ or ‘béresjiek’.

Along the Canals of Brugge

Spain2.1

Writing to you from the Granada bus station

And so begins Round Two…
… with a disastrous failed attempt at a direct flight from Dallas to Madrid. We all boarded the plane with no problems. I even made friends with the older Columbian gentleman sitting next to me. We talked about his grandkids, learning new languages and the benefits of technology and just as he abruptly took the conversation on a convert-me-to-his-religion turn the pilot’s voice came on the loudspeaker. “ Hi there folks, it appears there’s a slight problem with one of the wings of the aircraft. Unfortunately, we’re going to have to land back in Dallas and figure this out, maybe even switch planes. We should be back on the ground in about 15 minutes”. Then a flight attendant gave a very rough translation in Spanish that more or less sounded like “Excuse me, the pilot thinks the wings of the plane are going to fall off. We’re going to do our best to try to land the plane. Thank you”. I looked around for very alarmed Spanish speakers (I knew there were quite a few on board who didn’t speak English) but surprisingly no one looked the least bit concerned. Especially not my Baha’i neighbor who kept right on going with describing the pleasures of his faith. (From what I’ve read before, this religion has quite a few merits. However this man described it so vaguely that it could have been any religion known today. He was less than pleased when I pointed this out.)

Fast forward two hours- I have been going a little stir-crazy watching the flight-tracker line on the screen going in hundreds of little circles around the dfw area. Mr. Baha’i next to me is on his 3000th round of AngryBirds. We have had no new information from the pilots but are pretty sure that this has been the longest ‘15 minutes’ in the history of American Airline.
Finally the stewardess (excuse me, flight attendant) comes back on: ‘Ladies and Gentleman, I apologize for the lack of information, the cockpit has been a little hectic. Right now the pilot is going to come back into the cabin to check on something. Please be prepared to give up your seat for a few minutes’ (The translated version is as proportionally terrifying as the first time). Sure enough, the pilot indeed comes back into the cabin, borrows the seats of a couple across the aisle from me and honest-to-God (Baha’i or otherwise) pulls out a miniature flashlight, points it out the window at the starboard wing, nods while ‘hmmmm’ing and heads back to the cockpit. No information for another half hour.


Finally- a new announcement: ‘Sorry about that wait folks, I think we may have burned enough fuel now and we’re beginning our descent into Dallas/Ft. Worth, please buckle up and prepare yourselves for what may be a fairly bumpy landing. Oh, and don’t worry about the firetrucks. Thank you’…..

‘(in Spanish) Ladies and Gentleman. We’re going to be arriving in Dallas shortly. There are fireman and ambulances waiting in case of an explosion. Please fasten your seatbelts and place your seat in its upright position. Thank you.’
….
Still no apparent concern at all from anyone within my vision. So I buckle down, pull out my camera (in case of an explosion) and suffer through what turns out to be a very normal, uneventful landing.
Long story short, we all were transferred to a different plane that never showed up, finally instructed to go home and try again the next day despite the on-coming snowstorm. By this point all of my Spanish co-fliers have purchased what may have been the entirety of the beer available in the airport and lots of life-stories have been exchanged.


Spain attempt 2.1:
New flight, short layovers, no problems. I sit next to the only empty middle seat. They accidentally gave me a free glass of wine. I splurge on a first class ticket for the 5 hour bus from Madrid to Granada. I arrive only a day later than originally planned, dirty and tired. It finally occurs to me that I am in Spain.
I sleep for the next 17 hours.

My first day back is beautiful and sunny so I decide to go for a walk around the city. A few subtle changes catch me off-guard and one discovery of the closing of my favorite shoe store almost brings me to tears. Besides that I am thrilled to see the snow-covered mountains in the distance, hear the sloppy Granadino accent, and meet up for coffee with two of my favorite Granadinas. Around 2pm I go up to Huetor Vega to eat lunch at Angel’s parents’ house. They really are like my Spanish family and we pick right back up making fun of each-others’ accents. The food was delicious and like always Mila made me eat way too much of it.

That night I had been instructed to dress fancy and show up to Bea’s house around 9pm so that she could take me to my surprise welcome-back party. We ended up meeting up with my favorite group of Granadinas- in addition to Bea: Aurora, Alejandra, Isa and M. Isa (pronounced ‘Marisa’). 

We had a FANTASTIC 3 course dinner of something resembling quesadillas, steak, pumpkins, duck, and a variety of desserts. After we finished eating came the real surprise: a drag show! 

This drag queen was phenomenal: beautiful, a fun performer and hilarious. She performed 4 songs throughout 2 hours and spent the rest of the time doing stand-up comedy. I was a little nervous that she would say something to me that I wouldn’t understand but I actually kept up and even got in a funny of my own when she turned her attention my way. Around 2am the show finished and we all went next door for some drinks and dancing. A very very fun evening!


(Since starting this entry I have boarded my bus, which is running 20 minutes late. I am racing to the airport in Malaga to catch a plane to Belgium. Not sure if I will make it or not. I am currently seated next to a very stinky, uncovered-mouth-coughing elderly lady, Baha’i God bless her. Our bus just backed into another bus in the rush to leave. No one acknowledged this besides the driver of bus #2).

The rest of the weekend was a combination between lazy languid lounging and exciting excursions. On Saturday we drove down to the Granada coast to a pueblo called Almuñecar. Although swimsuit weather has yet to arrive, the sun was shining and conditions were perfect for a lunch at a chiringuito. (That’s a casual café/restaurant on the beach, most often with tables right on the sand). 

During the meal (which was a mouthwatering fresh vegetable paella) 4 hang gliders landed about 20 feet away. After lunch we walked along the coast and I made friends with a little girl who liked to pick up the ‘water tomatoes’ (stinging gooey bright red things that suction onto the underside of rocks) and a little boy who spoke to me in some Slavic language without even pausing for a breath.

Sunday brought more sun and a motorcycle ride through the countryside. (Pictured: These sheep are in front of the most famous peak of the Sierra Nevadas. You see that distinct shape everywhere.)I ate a very Spanish lunch consisting of a giant platter of Manchego cheese, grilled pork and patatas al pobre.


So now that I’ve just arrived and almost caught my breath I am off again for a 10 day stretch in Belgium and the Netherlands. I have no concrete plans whatsoever and a backpack containing:
• 5 shirts
• 4 sweaters
• 1 raincoat
• 15 pairs of socks and dainties (including one pair of long underwear)
• shower things and a toothbrush
• 1 Eurail pass


I don’t know about you, but this seems to me to be a flawless plan.

8 months pass...

Excuse the pause, I took a vacation from my adventuring to spend some time in Texas.