Delicious Delft

It is 9pm on a Wednesday night in late June.   I am wearing my warmest pants, two shirts and I am blogging from under a duvet piled high with all of our laundry.  (Jannie was generous enough to let us use her washer and dryer after breakfast, here is hoping we can make it through the next ten or so days without doing laundry again!). A pot of tea is whistling on the tiny stove and yet I can't seem to get the chill out of my bones. If I were at home in So Cal even the suggestion of a sheet over my bare legs would warrant a flop sweat at this stage of summer.  But here I am in Holland, and though I wore three layers to dinner, my umbrella nearly turned inside out on the way back to the car, a piercing wind seemed to penetrate right down to my soul, and dark clouds hung ominously in the back lit sky.  Still this country is insanely enchanting.

This afternoon we visited Delft, and we did get about 30 minutes of sunshine to peruse the famous royal blue pottery in the main Markt square, for which we were truly grateful.  The craftsmanship and architecture of Delft are marvels to behold.  From the new church to the old church, to the fine lines etched in Delft blue on platters and pitchers, even the man cobbling clogs near a wagon attached to his bike add an indescribable charm to this old city.

We had dinner at a hip restaurant called Huszar which takes a modern approach to traditional dishes.  Greg has been eager to try bitterballen, I have been somewhat terrified because it sounds disgusting, right?  Plus he could not give me any sort of explanation for what this snack is made of. Here is what we got when we finally bit the bullet, so to speak; a breaded deep fried globe filled with something akin to a thick sausage gravy.  Surprisingly creamy inside and dipped in mustard, not half bad.

One learns many life lessons through travel.  Perhaps one of those lessons is to be more willing to try new things; it's not always as scary as you may think.  Another, that we re-learned today, is to just slow down!  We have been so excited to explore this country that we've been racing off each day, traveling great distances and exhausting ourselves just to get a taste of new regions, almost desperate to sample all this country has to offer.  By taking the morning off to do laundry, we found more time to chat with our host, who we found was eager to hear about where we come from and what our town is like.  We wisely limited our afternoon and evening to one destination about 20 minutes from home and we opted to drive saving ourselves what would have been a miserably wet and cold ride home.  Instead we had time to browse, have a drink in the square and people watch, take our time at dinner rather than rushing to get back on the road.  Hopefully we'll find more opportunities to take it slow during our travels.

The North

I managed to wake up in time for a three mile run before breakfast was served.  I let Greg sleep in and enjoyed visiting with horses, bunnies and the twittering birds on the virtually empty paths in the Rottemeren recreation area.  I returned to a breakfast with an extra treat today, berry and banana smoothies! Perhaps Jannie saw me head out for my early morning run and figured I would require more nourishment than her usual breakfast feast.

I do not have affection for stereotypes but I will just mention one common thread I have noticed as a woman of small stature.  Many of the Dutch are very tall. I remember reading that during times of famine here where tulip bulbs were consumed to fill empty bellies that the height of an entire generation could be stunted.  However as the Dutch people prospered in the future, it is  said they are proud that their young people are some of the tallest in Europe.  I first noticed this when trying to ride a Dutch bike and even with the seat lowered, my tip toes barley grazed the pedals.  My next observation came during our road trip to the north today, in the area of Friesland.  We climbed the stairs to the dike to try to glimpse a view of the Friesan islands and found the stairs ridiculously steep, for the long legs, I theorized.

The vast expanse of water on our right and the steep green hillside of the dyke dotted with sheep on our left gave me the illusion that the seemingly endless land bridge we were riding to the north could be the theoretical spot where the side walk ends.  It just didn't seem that this skinny stretch of land was ever going to intersect with anything other than ocean.  So perhaps we would just get to a point, like the end of the earth, where all the theories of Eratosthenes would be disproved and we'd find out the earth is indeed flat as we rocketed off the end of this bridge to nowhere in our rented BMW.  But of course that didn't happen, the Dutch are brilliant engineers who somehow built a country on what used to be ocean by strategically draining sea water and moving earth around, until presto chango, more Dutch real estate!

Today we did make it as far north as Harlingen, a charming harbor town, where we had our first savory pancake, pannenkoeken, and sweet mini poffertjes with chocolate syrup, butter and powdered sugar.  We also drove onto the thriving capital city of Leeuwarden. King of the round about, every other intersection seemed to have a traffic circle!  Truly dizzying.

Back home we grabbed a pub style dinner in the closest town to us.  The waiter quickly told us the specials and walked away.  Greg and I did our best to decipher what he had said in Dutch.  He came back a few minutes later and told us that the bartender who had seated us informed him that we were English and probably didn't understand a word he said.  We were delighted that when he translated we had gotten the main points the first time around.  Even though you could spend the whole road trip being amused by strangely spelled words on street signs and challenging yourself to pronounce them, I guess the language is getting a tiny bit easier to understand.  Also, it is comforting to know that all you have to do is ask and the Dutch are happy to speak English with you.

Car tour

I opted for some gentle yoga this morning rather than a jog, my body was still sore from all the biking and walking yesterday.  Did I mention that our host remembered from our emails that I am a yoga teacher and she loaned me her mat for the week?!  You can bet I'll be taking advantage of that!  Greg had big plans this morning, despite the grey skies.  He had four different local towns to check out by car on his list.  We started in Delft and it was pouring.  So, we took a tour from the warm and dry sanctity of our car.  The city was quaint and charming but difficult to navigate in an auto; we will try to bike back later in the week if the weather improves.

When we got to Den Haag it was cold but the rain was slowing.  By the time we parked the car, the rain had stopped we got a chance to see the contrast of old buildings like parliament and museums vs. the skyscrapers popping up in the business district.  On to Scheveningen on the coast. We found a late lunch at De Dagvisser (the day fisher).  This was one of the best meals we've had on this trip.  We ordered the salt crusted whole fish, which was deboned and served table side.  The lemon risotto, asparagus and carrots in a white wine sauce were the perfect compliment to the moist, tender, fish.  We took a walk after lunch and found a guitar store where Greg was able to strum around and get his fix.   One more stop, Wassenaar,  a tree lined suburbia with sprawling mansion like homes with Dutch flair.  At the end of the road was the beach, a chance to touch the water of the North Sea and the sun was out for a change. Again, a very full day! We opted to have breakfast leftovers for dinner and were eager to rest.

Rotterdam by the numbers

Up early today to run and I had a partner in crime this morning.  Greg joined me by the river and through the forest on a bike.  We passed pastures, with llamas and Shetland ponies.  Cows, sheep, and geese are our neighbors.  Our morning jaunt was only 2.6 miles because our B and B breakfast would be at our door at 8:00 and we didn't want to be late.  In fact when we returned the kitchen door was open to the side yard and our host, Jannie (pronounced “Yannie”), was putting the finishing touches on our breakfast.  We got to meet her loving eight month old pup, whose silky ears and gentle kisses won our hearts instantly.  Her shiny black coat and expressive brown eyebrows are what inspired her name.  “She is Tina, for Tina Turner, because she is black and beautiful,” Jannie explained.

By the time I had showered up after my run, our breakfast had been delivered to our door.  Greg stood beaming by the small table in our cottage waiting for my reaction.  Soft boiled eggs, local meats and cheeses, cherry tomatoes, yogurt, muesli, dried fruit, and fresh blueberries, apples, bananas, melon, and kiwi fruit. I was in heaven, oh and I forgot to mention, the coffee, milk and fresh squeezed orange juice!  We had to take our time to enjoy this epic breakfast, and time to digest as well.  We ended up saving some of the fruit, meats and cheese for an afternoon snack.

Turns out we needed that fuel, we biked to Rotterdam, a modern somewhat gritty port city.
4.8 miles on bikes to get there.  We stopped at Markt Halle, a giant farmers market with gourmet shops and food court, for a light lunch and to share an ice cream.  Then we walked  2.6 miles around the city. There was plenty to see like a random swing dance party in front of the church, shops, modern architecture and more. We took the long way home along the river, 6.5 more miles on the bikes.  It was an exhausting but adventure filled day!

On to Holland

After getting home late last night, a boisterous party across the street disturbed our sleep, followed by yet another thunderstorm.  Nonetheless, we packed up quickly in the morning said good bye to Astrid who had thoughtfully gifted us a bottle of Riesling for our anniversary, and we were on the road. We set aside our gluten free restrictions this morning because the only places open early on Saturday mornings in Geisenheim were bakeries.  We tossed back a coffee and grabbed some sweet pastry for the road.   It rained all the way to the Netherlands and beyond.

When we arrived in Bergschenhoek, our friendly hosts awaited us.  They got us settled in our tiny but comfy cabin in their garden, then they were off to the north to attend some family birthday parties. After we caught our breath from the long trip, we headed off to find a late lunch/early dinner and we were lucky to find a quaint and quiet spot near the forest and river that remained open during the lull between meals.  We took a bike ride before dark, our hosts loaned us their bikes and we got to explore the foresty path along the river Rotte.  Holland is just as friendly, green, and beautiful as I remember!

Dancing on the Rhein

Every event today seemed to balance on the head of a pin; two minutes later we wouldn't have seen…, five minutes longer we would not have been..., one second this way or that and we would have missed one of the events that stacked together to amount to one of most fun days of our lives.

So we started in Munich. Leaving sucked because we loved our time there.  Yet the morning went as planned, we got a final cappuccino at Viktualienmarkt, retrieved the car from the parking garage, and even snagged the particular parking spot we needed in front of the apartment in order to load up our luggage.

The drive to the Rhein seemed to take forever, traffic and thunderstorms delayed us, yet we took turns driving and enjoyed the beautiful landscapes.  When we finally arrived it was well past lunch time, but we had snacked on fruit and nuts on our road trip, so we skipped lunch checked in with our host, and hurried to start the Niederwald Rundfahrt (round trip) in time to catch the last boat.  This consisted of parking in Rüdesheim,  taking Seilbahn (the people mover type cars) that ascended to the top of the hill on a wire overlooking glorious vineyards. Each car contained from two adults or up to four kids.  Several upper elementary aged kids were descending, perhaps as a field trip, and some of the more outgoing groups delighted in waving and shouting greetings at passing seilbahn cars as we shuttled up the mountain.  “Hallo,” “Wie geht’s?” (Hello…how goes it?) we were asked, we smiled, answered and got joyful responses from the young people.  One group flashed peace signs and we returned the greeting of peace, one girl exclaimed, “Kühle leute!” (Cool people).

The next part of the journey was hiking nearly an hour through the magical woods, seeing the deer at the zoo and then taking a chair lift down the other side.  By this time we were beyond hunger, clear of mind, soaking in the birdsong as we descended.  We had made it back down the hillside with time to spare to catch the last boat back to Rüdesheim.  We found no food on the boat but enjoyed an apartif during the 30 minute ride up the river, marveling at castles, green hills, quaint towns, and vineyards.

As we navigated the cobblestone streets in search of a traditional restaurant I had in mind, big fat rain drops began to fall.  We dodged drops, racing along under awnings and ducked into the restaurant just before the sky ripped open and it began to pour. We enjoyed amazing food including lemon balm pesto, whole fish, and a  lovely local Riesling, which when paired with the playful three piece band made for a relaxing and satisfying dinner.  As the restaurant began to fill with more patrons, the band played more traditional music that patrons sang and swayed with at their tables.  Then the drinking  games began as several large parties stood in front of a long board with shot glasses attached and on the count of, “Eins, zwei, drei!”they attempted to down these communal shots of schnapps.  One group started a German style conga line and the Japanese tourist hopped on board, recognizing a more familiar activity they could join in. Once we had seen all the wonders our dinner venue could behold, I told Greg it was time to move on  to the next place.  We both imagined that was going to be back at home, but the town had come alive.  Several bars had live music or a DJ and dancing, mostly with an older crowd slow dancing to oldies and traditional music.

We were ready to turn the corner and head back to the car,  when we heard young people singing out the window of a small pub.  They sang at us and Greg gave them the rock-on hand sign (index and pinkie finger extended, ring and middle finger touching your thumb; we will call it the rock and roll mantra.). Apparently this made us instant friends because several of them traipsed out onto the street inviting us in, and they were so friendly and welcoming we complied.  The group explained it was schnapps night and gave us a shot to cheers with and insisted on buying us drinks.  For Greg they suggested a beer, for me ein Hugo.  I shrugged, not sure what that was. One of our new friends gestured to his full glass, then flipped his straw and offered me a sip. Out of character, I accepted and agreed this was a tasty drink.  We visited for a long time.  One fellow named Karlsten said since we would only know him for one night he would tell us everything. His English was very good and we came to learn  how he loved his freedom and traveling, but his girlfriend wanted to marry and he loves her so he will ask her at his 40th birthday in October, she was 27 and spoke less confident English but was very tolerant of his tendency to chat up strange Americans.  Karlsten told us that his best friend is gay and  thinks they are the best people and that in his opinion gays should rule the world.  As if on cue, his friend Marcel danced over to us and the boys began discussing their favorite football teams. In response to the topic, Marcel lifted his shirt to reveal a tattoo of the Tampa Bay Buccaneers’ pirate mascot.  These guys were full of surprises.  They taught us German songs and their meanings.  One was a song from the 70s recently remade about a girl who is always smiling but only cries when she's alone, the most popular song in Germany right now.  Another one, all I can remember, “La la la…” Marcel explained this is for all the gay boys in the club. Around this time,  Marcel said something to me in German and took me by the had to the dance floor.  I noticed we kept stepping on each other's feet and realized I was not familiar with German footwork.  Marcel was too sweet to correct me but realized he was in way over his head, I tried a box step which did not work with the German dancing so he passed me off to his friend Karlsten who  was much more strict,  when I messed up. “Nein, Nein, Nein,” he would chastise.  Poor guy would  stop and start again slowly, mirror me, move my leg with his hand, even stand behind me with hands on my hips doing my steps, so I could follow. I felt like Baby from Dirty Dancing when Johnny is fist starting to teach her to dance, all giggles.  Meanwhile, they assigned a young lady to teach Greg a different dance which he claimed was harder than mine.  In the end they gave up and danced with each other, letting Greg and I practice the steps they taught us, then dissolving into hooked arms in a circle.  Marcel declared his love for us.  The DJ played “surfing USA” and announced it was for the schöne Americans.  Schnapps kept circulating on a tray, but Greg gestured to Marcel that he was driving to which Marcel gestured good thinking! This did not stop the flow of drinks in my direction.  It was clear that I was hesitant but Karlsten would say, “ I am so so sorry Melissa but you need to take that glass.”  After tapping glasses and raising the shot to my lips, I would place it on the bar behind me untouched. Luckily most of our friends didn't notice this, too busy gulping their own drinks to notice what happened to mine, except for one voluptuous blonde girl, who swooped in quietly behind me drinking down my discarded shots and winking at me.  It was creeping up on midnight and we needed to depart for holland in the morning, so we slunk out the door leaving our new friends to party the night away.

Last day in Munich

This morning I took comfort in the distraction of a run by the river.  It was going to be a very warm day in Munich, so I delighted in the opportunity to water the plants on Michael’s terrace.  Remembering how grandma used to count watering her garden as her morning exercise when she was a bit younger and more spry, gave me my first chance to smile about her memory rather than to cry over her loss.  I know this mourning will come in stages, I know it will be a process, having gone through the loss of my dad a few years ago, I know to expect feelings of grief to take me by surprise.  Yet even with my awareness of all those things, I enjoyed being barefoot on the terrace and smiling about her.

Today is our last day in Munich, tomorrow we travel north to the Rhine then on to Holland.  Our original plans for today included the possibility of visiting Dachau, but even at my most stable emotionally, I wasn't sure I could handle that experience.  After losing grandma yesterday, I was certain, that needed to be for another trip.  We found that we were happy to walk around the farmers market gathering snacks for our road trip tomorrow, let a load of laundry dry in the scalding sun on the terrace while we napped this afternoon, and to just enjoy this town for one more day.

We used up all the groceries in the fridge to make an eclectic salad for dinner.  After dinner and packing, we hit the streets for a final walk through Marienplatz.  On the way, we stopped by Michael’s heart art at the Holy Ghost church.  I had something to add to the display.  Last night after learning of grandma’s transition, I picked a fuchsia from a hotel’s window box for comfort.  Grandpa Harvey used to pick these flowers and twirl them from the top stem so they'd spin like a ballerina.  I can't see a fuchsia without thinking of my grandparents’ garden.  I kept the flower in a glass of water all day, looking at it when I felt sad, remembering the good times.  Tonight I tucked the flower in with other plants for loved ones at the base of the heart sculpture.  I know grandma would have liked the idea of being nestled in amongst all of that beautiful greenery overseen by a symbol of love in such a historic Munich church.

A beautiful and sad day

We had such a beautiful day today, but my heart wouldn't stop aching.  I guess you could say, I felt a disturbance in the force.  We drove to Chiemsee and took the ferry from the harbor in Prien to Fraueninsel, a charming little island with a monastery, cute cottages with boat houses, and gorgeous views of the lake. The nuns smiled at me, looking deep into my eyes with loving comfort, as if to say, “I know, my child.”  Unlike other nuns, the ladies of this order dressed in gauzy white frocks, they looked more ready for picnics than prayers.  We had a delicious lunch of fresh fish fillets then took the ferry to the larger Herreninsel where crazy King Ludwig had an opulent palace built for himself. We hiked through the forest to see the beautiful grounds and gardens and imagined what life might have been like for the former residents.  Stormy skies were no where in sight today as we got our first glimpse of sun and heat during our travels.

Tired and still feeling heartsick, we drove back to Munich.  Greg kept saying how gorgeous the surroundings were but I felt like crying.  As we got closer to Munich, I began to feel nervous. As we climbed the stairs to our apartment, I climbed slowly not wanting it to be true but feelIng in my heart that she was gone.  I asked Greg if we could Skype with my mom before going out for dinner, I just knew I needed to talk to her.  Sure enough she told me today was the day grandma chose to go dance in heaven.  I didn’t want it to be true but I wasn't surprised I had been feeling her loss all day.  From all the way across the ocean, I felt you go, Grandma Lou. Mom assured us that she was fine; friends, neighbors and family were gathering around her. Also grandma wouldn't want us to be sad, which I know is true.  Still, my heart aches and eyes tear when I think how there will be no more chats and giggles, no more meals shared and appreciated, no more hugs, no more hearing her voice call me the endearing terms that were so quintessentially Grandma Lou.  It occurs to me that I'm sad for me, my mom, and all who live on and love her.  I'm not sad for her. She lived a very long and complete life. Her pain and struggles have ceased.  She is at peace and in that, I take comfort.

Munich has heart

I decided to skip the run today and save my energy for sight seeing, and boy am I glad I did!  Our first task, after shopping at the farmers market, was to pick up our rental car.  We walked to the agency, only about 10 minutes away, and Greg was ecstatic to learn we would be driving a BMW for the next couple of weeks.

We drove into the countryside to visit the beautiful monastery at Andechs.  For those readers who don't know our usual dietary habits, at home we are mostly vegetarians and nearly gluten free.  However when we travel, we have learned to be flexible, eat regional food, and not be so rigid with our diets.  We have tried some unusual dishes this week and frequently stepped outside our comfort zone.  Of those meals,  the most notably large and foreign, was the pork knuckle at Andechs.  Honestly it was tasty, but we needed a green salad for dinner to compensate for all of that abundance.  Climbing the 195 steps to the bell tower did help burn off some of that food, and the view  from the top was breathtaking! (Another surprise that instantly raised our heart rates was the deafening toll of the two o'clock bells experienced from inside the tower!)

While I merely  tasted the famous beer at Andechs, I let Greg enjoy the large mug pictured and deemed myself the designated driver for the way home.  Driving on the autobahn was fine, but negotiating the traffic filled streets of Munich was stressful.  (My first time driving in a foreign country!)

Back in the city, we headed over to see our host’s art opening.  We had some idea of what to expect because there are a few scaled models around the house and we had peeked in the church earlier and seen the giant 3D heart-shaped sculpture that seems to be made of grids of pvc.. Greg who knows more about these things explained it was actually welded pipe.  The sculpture was huge and suspended in the center of the church from the ceiling so it appears to hover in the center of the space.  When we arrived at the opening, visitors were taking plants and placing around the base of the sculpture, some were writing on flags inserted into the plant with a skewer.  We are guessing the plants symbolize loved ones in need of prayers, or someone you wanted to receive loving energy, or even to commemorate people you love who have passed.  As the presentation began, the crowd hushed.  Beautiful music played, setting the theme, as lights of various colors flashed from all around the chapel changing the mood, pulsing and beating with the music. At one point water showered down from the sculpture perhaps representing tears, and blood (red dyed liquid?) pulsed through clear tubes. There was also the incorporation of the element; earth, air, fire, and water.   Michael’s art was truly something moving to behold.  We marveled at the creativity to invent the concept, the talent and patience to construct the sculpture, then the vision and collaboration to compile the music, the lighting, and all the details that made this a seamless integration of the complexity of the heart.

A secret wish fulfilled

The weekday early morning run provided a lot more company.  While the trails were virtually my own on Saturday at six, Monday must be run day in Munich; bike and pedestrian traffic was already pumping before seven!  Now that I know where to go, fewer detours today, I took a shorter 5 k run to leave time and energy for a full day!

Today a wish was fulfilled.  This is a dream 32 years in the making and I bet it is one that many of my generation probably shared with me.   “They were with him when he hid from the boys in the book store, they were with him when he took the book with the auryn seal on the cover…”  And like me, when Bastian was given unlimited wishes to rebuild Fantasia, they would have chosen the same first wish he did…to fly on Falkor the luck dragon.  

How was this possible, you may ask? Today we visited Bavaria Filmstadt and took a tour of the memorabilia from several lesser known German films, with the hope of visiting the Neverending Story models.  We lucked out being the only two people on the English tour and got some awesome behind the scenes opportunities!  Truly a day I'll never forget.  

To top it off we came home and took a yoga class down stairs, with the studio owner of Merry Yoga.  Louise welcomed us warmly, offered us fuzzy socks and an elaborate array of bolsters and blankets for our restorative class, she kindly switched off between German and English during the class so we could understand her directions. It was a heavenly 90 minutes of deep stretching and relaxing breathing.  She ended class by serving us tea and visiting with us for about 20 minutes, just chatting about travels, yoga styles, and life in general.  

Munich seems like a magical place tonight, where dreams really do come true!