Craigs Trips

Luxembourg to Amsterdam, April 1, 2006

2006-06-11T18:59:00.000-04:00

My last full day in Europe started with another geocaching hunt in Brussels. I had searched for a few the previous afternoon with no finds. I had sat on a nearby bench, waiting for the muggles to get up from their park bench and had given up and after 20 minutes. This morning I made my way to the last easy one, that I hadn't searched for yet. I saved the park bench as my last resort.

I wanted to get back to Amsterdam for my last night in Europe, so I headed out, on a mission. For a Saturday morning, Brussels was dead. "The Lift" was uphill (of course) and about a mile away. About half way there, my leg brace suddenly felt loose. One of the hinges had come loose. It had never happened before. I did not have an allen wrench to fix it. Not on me and not in my luggage. I pressed on.

I walked to the top, forgetting that the cache is near an elevator, thus the name of "The Lift." I found the 35mm film canister, signed my name and started making my way toward the park bench hide. After a few minutes, I realized that the brace wasn't loose, it was broken. The hinge piece had rubbed on my inside ankle and there was a sign of blood. I removed the brace and carried it as I slowly, cautiously made my way back to the hotel.

There were no tool stores open, or any that I saw at all. The desk clerk had no access to tools and the handyman did not work on weekends. I now carry an allen wrench with me all the time.

I had moved so slowly that I had to hurry to check out in time. I doctored my fresh wound and the others I acquired along the road. I was so happy that this happened at the end of the trip, rather than the start. It could have been a show stopper. After the shortest cab ride ever, I eventually made my way to the correct track, for my train to Amsterdam.

The last long train ride was depressing. I kept thinking that my trip was almost over. My stop in Amsterdam, at the start of the trip seemed to be so long ago. My sorrow of an ending trip lifted from thinking about all the places I had been and the great people I chatted with.

I had reservation set for the Best Western Eden. Based on all the previous hotels, I assumed that this one would be another nice one. WRONG! It was Saturday night and I should have made a reservation earlier and really should be happy I found a safe hotel. I dropped my bags in the closet of a room, changed dressing, splashed some water on my face and went to the desk clerk to ask where I could find a store with tools.

I was in luck, there was a hardware store only a few blocks away. I found it with ease and bought and fixed my brace right in the store. I relaxed knowing that I wouldn't be stuck in the dinky hotel. I made my way to the damrak to buy cheap trinkets. Stopping here and there for food and drinks.

Another Traveler:

With no worries about making my flight home and having nothing on my agenda, I had a fun night. Those tourists sure know how to party. By the time I got back to the teeny hotel room, it didn't matter how awful my last hotel room was, I just wanted to sleep. I double checked the alarm clock and let myself fall fast asleep.

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To Luxembourg then Brussels, March 31, 2006

2006-06-09T10:21:00.000-04:00

The run for the finish line (find caches in the last two counties, on my list) began long before the sun came up. My last day in Paris wore me out. I was in bed by 10 and woken up around 1am.

Some coed spring breakers arrived at the hotel and just couldn't figure out how to use a key to open the door. After about 10 minutes of listening to them, I started to laugh and got dressed. I opened my door and saw startled all four of them.

I spoke broken 'inglish' and pretended to be a Frenchman. I asked what was the problem, "Do you not have keys in America?" "You graduated from University, no?" "Maybe this big strong man should protect you for the rest of your visit?" Their awkward responses, showed just how naive they were.

I showed them the trick to opening the door (pull on the handle) and then said "If a regular Joe from Connecticut can figure it out - You four can to. Welcome to Paris." The smiles all around were precious.

I was back in bed and snoring long before the 'worldly travelers' chatted themselves to sleep.

My alarm at 5 am was not welcome, but I had to get and keep moving. I woke up the desk clerk. That couch could not be very comfortable. As I waited for the taxi, and during the ride to the train station, I saw Paris waking up. I had apprehension as to how this visit would be and was pleasantly surprised at what I good time I had, in Paris.

The train ride from Gare de Lyon to Luxembourg City was uneventful. With the exception of a few business people, the car was empty. Watching the French countryside roll by, I thought about how soon this adventure would end. In 48 hours, I would be boarding the airplane for home.

Welcome to Luxembourg:

I guess the city is growing. I stored my luggage and started walking toward one of the geocaches.

Needless to say, the cache wasn't there - I started on my way to the next easy cache.

My walk brought me to picturesque area:

The cache site is in this picture - can you guess where it is?

Having completed my search, I started my hike out of the valley. I still had to get to Brussels, find a hotel and ...

I hopped a bus to get back up to city level. Unfortunately, the bus driver did not speak a word of english. It took me a minute to figure out that I had to put the fare on a little table and he would deposit it. For the first time, in a while, I felt like a fish out of water.

At the top of the hill, near some government buildings (palaces?), I hopped off and wandered through the small streets heading generally toward the train station. I stopped at a restaurant for lunch. As dad used to say, MMMMmmmm Graaaaaveeeee." I said, "MMMMmmmm BEEEEEEER."

Coming out of the valley, there were a lot more people talking english. I grabbed a taxi to the station, where the cabbie said that most Luxembourgers do speak english. Very well I might add.

I grabbed my luggage and a couple beers for the ride to Brussels.

Central Station in Brussels is near the Grand Place and so was my hotel. Another marble covered bathroom, king size bed, well stocked mini fridge... I arrived with plenty of time to search for caches. I didn't find any, but I did find lots of chocolate.

Grand Place (Grand Plaza)(Grand Palace):

Oh yeah - PRIMUS SUCKS!!!

After a few hours of hunting between the Grand Place and the park near the Royal Palace, I had no luck. I was worried that this country may go without a find. I had a nice dinner and who knew, Belgium has biere. I think the beer, chocolate and waffles would have tasted better, if I didn't have to still find a cache to complete my quest.

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Paris, France March 30

2006-05-15T14:52:00.000-04:00

I was up early. I had a lot to accomplish, on my final day in Paris.

First I needed to wash my final load of clothes for the trip. The next morning I had an EARLY departure for Luxembourg. The laundromat was about a half block away.

The instructions are easier than they look:

"Primus Sucks!"

After loading the machine, I raced back up the hill and attacked the breakfast room. I had it all to myself. I don't know why, but the coffee and croissants tasted better here in Paris than anywhere I'd been on this trip

I returned to the laundromat for the drying and folding portion of this task. People used the Laundromat as a meeting place. A few Asian men waited for a ride. A women and her children met another woman for a walk. I wondered if the camera in the back of the room was sending live picture to anyone

By 9 am the clothes were back in the hotel room and I was in a taxi, on my way to american express for a fist full of euros. While at Amex, I bought my ticket to the Louvre, to skip the line.

I walked toward the Louvre, staring at geocache icons, on my gps, that were behind me and getting farther away at every step. Today, I would only search for geocaches if my path went near one. Not one was on my path. Besides, so much to do, so little time.

At the Louvre, I found the line at the door to be long. A couple bus loads of children milling about blocking my way. I started waving my ticket at the clerks and once they saw me, they called me to the front of the line. Phew, I'm in.

The Louvre as seen from space:

The Louvre is HUGE. I stared at the map to figure out what section I needed to visit. I heard they have a nice portrait of an italian woman, the morning lisa or something. Once you are in the correct part of the building, you need to stay focused on where you are going. Its easy to get distracted and spend hours looking at all of the collection and get kicked out before seeing everything on your list.

They already have too much to see and more stuff keeps arriving:

Some times they don't even unpack them for us to see:

Women REALLY like this one. By the way - the box in the picture above is to the left of this picture:

I kept moving toward the must see items.

How could this be a masterpiece? She doesn't even have arms.
Venus di Milo:

Plumbers Smile:

No flash:

I made my way to 'the most famous painting in the world." As you will see in the Da Vinci Code movie, it is in a large room surrounded by tall walls covered in captivating paintings. The hum of the crowd is broken only by the screams of "NO PICTURES!" Say it often and many times in succession - no, say it LOUD. Since they were so insistent, I didn't take a picture. I did act as a shield for others to snap pictures of reflective glass.

Gotta love Google Images:

After seeing a couple 'must see' items, I made my way downstairs to see the fortress in the basement.

Yup, its authentic:

I made my way out after only seeing a teeny bit of the museum.

A light rain was falling as I made my way to the Picasso museum. I stopped for lunch and watched people come and go and deal with the wet weather.

The picasso museum is a little off the beaten path. Its in a 17th century building. I tried to take a few pictures, without a flash and in stealth mode. This is the only one that is usable.

Pablo Picasso did create paintings with weird looking subjects. He also sculpted, in a variety of mediums, he dabbled in photography... What surprised me was his use of color. A painting jumps off the wall at you - it is so vibrant. Bright orange and yellows offset with greens and browns and not one color clashes with another. Absolutely amazing:

After covering all of this fantastic museum, I made my way to the next on my list.

Almost a car:

I could have gone in but, there was a concert going on and there were no tours and the cost of admission, to the concert, was a little steep for a quick visit.

I stared at the towers for a few minutes and I assume that the current hunchback must have been busy with the concert. There was one stop left on my list for the day and there was still sunlight. Not much, but a little sunlight.

I went to the top and took in the view. It was a whirlwind tour. I wish I had planned to spend more time in Paris. I know that I can always return for a visit.

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Paris, France March 29

2006-05-12T11:00:00.000-04:00

I hoped that my overnight ride to Paris would be as good as my ride to Madrid was. In essence the bedroom is bunk beds with a sink. The toilet is down the hall. Once you drop the luggage in the cabin, its time to think about what's for dinner.

I had a couple of beers before a delicious meal. I think the wine helped me on this overnighter. I did sleep well but I had a vivid dream. I rarely remember my dreams but this one remains in my head, to this day. It was more of a nightmare than a happy dream.

Maybe it was the hum of the train or my mind organizing my experiences or both combined. My dream involved myself and a group of people, racing on a train from station to station. At each station, we would exit the train and run around trying to find the exit. Within minutes the station would come under attack. There were bombs exploding all around us. Luckily, we were able to escape from the station before the train was hit. This went on for a few stops before I woke up.

I rolled over and slept until the alarm went off. I had a hot breakfast while sipping coffee and watching the sun rise on the french countryside, as we rolled by. I remember thinking how run down I felt. I had been on the move for over 16 days and I needed a down day soon. Maybe that is what the dream was telling me.

My train arrived at the Austerlitz station and the tourist information (hotel reservations) is at the Lyon station, which is on the other side of Siene river. I walked across, pulling the clippity-clop luggage behind me. It was another sunny day. I looked around to see if any of the landmarks were within sight - they weren't.

The women at the touriste office were so nice. I was really afraid that my limited french would bring angry reactions. Their smiles, laughter and chit chat dismissed my fears. What a nice welcome to Paris.

Just like Lisbon and Madrid, my atm card didn't work here. I still had cash from my previous cities, but not enough to last the rest of the trip. Weeks after arriving home, I got a letter from the credit union concerning this. "WEEKS AFTER" Remember to notify your bank and credit cards that you will be traveling or suffer the consequences.

The travel books all said not to try to use the metro with luggage, so I hailed a taxi for the ride to the latin quarter. The main streets are wide and the winding streets are tight. Traffic moves faster than you would expect through this compact city.

The best western hotel was perfect. Nothing special but nothing bad either. I laid down to go over the map and plan my attack of Paris and fell asleep. I woke up twice, when chambermaids stopped in to check the towels and bedding. They backed out once they saw me. I instantly fell asleep after each interruption. I woke up a few hours later, still groggy.

I took a shower and went out to find a store for snacks. Next door to the hotel was a bakery. A few doors down was a brassiere. There was a butcher down the street, the opposite way. I found a couple stores that had fruit, bottled water, soda, snacks and brought some back to the hotel. As the desk clerk gave me key, she saw my bag of munchies and told me that the bakery was fantastic and I could bring my croissants to the brassiere, to enjoy with some coffee.

I dropped off my goodies in the mini fridge and headed back down with my maps and lists. I returned my key to the front desk and headed to the brassiere after a stop at the bakery. Ah, the good life. Sitting on the sidewalk sipping coffee, chewing croissants watching the world walk by.

I felt full, rested and refreshed. Time to go see the sights (aka go find some caches). It was already late in the day and the places I visited, the Pantheon and Cimetiere de Montparnasse were closed. Like Madrid, the first cache I looked for was the only one I found, during my stay. Luckily, there's lots of other things to see.

From the Pantheon, I could see the top of the Eiffel Tower. It was a few miles away. There were lots of people milling about, school kids on a field trip, workers heading home, people walking on the tree lined greens, lovers cuddling.

This brings up something that I just have to discuss. Lovers and their uses of park benches. I saw this in a few of city parks I had visited. A couple spend time kissing and whispering sweet nothings to each other. The man then sits on the park bench and spends a couple minutes trying to get her to sit on his lap. Not like you are imagining. He wants her to put her feet through the bench, wrap her legs around him and face him. The thought of "get a room!" comes to mind. Then again, I am an American and this means I am a prude compared to the rest of the world. But then again, if I was with a woman I loved, I'd want to dry hump her in public too. I wish I had a picture to explain this. Wait, I did find one on the internet:

I stopped off at another restaurant for dinner. I have never been a big fan of wine. The darker ones upset my stomach. After my second dinner in a row with red wine I was starting to enjoy it. It was dark by the time my gps had guided me back to the hotel. I went to bed with all my plans for the next day, running around in my head.

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Madrid, Spain March 27 - 28

2006-05-11T16:55:00.000-04:00

The overnight trip to Madrid, on the train was tremendously more comfortable than my overnight ride to Munich. Maybe it was my all day hike around Lisbon or the fact that I had a bed to sleep on, but I got a really good nights sleep.

The train arrived 3 hours late, but at least I wasn't too early to reserve a room. As I made my stops around the station, for money, hotel reservation, public transportation pass..., I thought about the al queada attack at this station, just two years before.

Once I finished all my stops in the station, I hopped in a taxi to the hotel, near the Prado museum. After some polite begging the hotel said they would have my clothes washed. How nice, since they (like most hotels) have no idea where a laundrymat is. I got my clothes back that night. $75 for a wash and fold of one small load - OUCH! Lets just say that when I dry myself at home, I still use some of their embroidered towels - gotta love that extra large luggage.

The room was smaller than I had become accustomed to, but was very nice. the bathroom was very nice compared to the bedroom. Marble tile, modern fixtures and plenty of room to move around.

I headed out for a walk (aka find caches). Although Prado was closed, there were still lots of people there milling around and asking americans to donate for 'the children.' Once I wriggled away, I found my first cache. This was the only one of four that I searched for, over two days.

My hunt took me into the Parque de Retiro. A lovely day to be in the park. I also made my way to the Christopher Columus monument.

You know, the guy who announced that he found the new land (just because no one had already claimed it). They call it La Plaza de Colon. That is his spanish name, Colon. I guess he was full of it. I spent a lot of time in this park, searching for a cache that wasn't there. It was listed as missing after I left for my adventure.

Mardrid's Emblem:

The shop where I bought my new letter opener:

I spent to full days walking around a small portion of Madrid and had a wonderful time. Clear spring days, delicious food and lots of walking and people watching.

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Lisbon Portugal, March 26

2006-05-10T17:33:00.000-04:00

I was out early searching for geocaches. I found four while walking a good portion of the city. Lisbon is nice city - but it was a Sunday. Like most europena cities, Sunday is a slow day. Many shoppes and restaurants are closed and all the hustle and bustle is home relaxing. But this also means that its easier to get around.

Heres a map of the central part of the city.

My hotel (the red H) is near the center of the picture. The Red G's are the geocaches I found. I started at the bottom left and worked counter clockwise.

My hunt for geocaches brought me to some special places.

I had to use this funicular to get to the top. The cache is hidden somewhere up on that gray wall a the top. From here I had a great view of the next find.

The cache is in that stone structure on top of that hill. On my way there, I remember that these buildings looked nice.

Once I got to the Castillo, I was rewarded with great views. I remember walking through that square.

If this picture doesn't make you breathe faster, then you just don't get it:

Found it!

View from the last find - can you see the castle on the hill on the left side?

The tricky, home made cache container. Its a 35mm film canister

After my fourth, and last, find of the day, I made my way to near the hotel, for a meal and to sample some port wines. After the cab, dropped me off at the train station, I reflected on how different this city is compared to the european cities, I had just raced through. The sunny warm day felt good. I nice tease of summer that would be here soon enough.

The train ride to Madrid was an overnighter. I had booked a private 'room' for the ride and hoped I get what I ordered and that I could get a good nights rest.

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On the Road to Lisboa - March 25

2006-05-05T12:38:00.000-04:00

My road from Bern to Lisbon was a long hard one.

Getting to the train in Bern was a hurdle. I spent too much time enjoying the markets and stores and had to rush to get the train. My rolling luggage got a rock stuck in one of the wheel wells causing one wheel to lock up. After about 200 feet, I realized that the rock wasn't going to dislodge, on its own. I didn't have any spare time to stop and try to dislodge it. Trains are punctual and its your fault if you miss them.

While I dragged the luggage into the station, past the shoppes, onto the platform and into the train, I realized that these were not titanium wheels. I shaved the wheel flat. What did that matter, it wasn't spinning anyway. And thats when I saw the rock simply fall out of the luggage wheel well. No matter how I had to try to shock it out by rolling backwards or banging it in various ways, it did not come out. But, once I stopped trying, it came out on its own. Ugh

I rant about this because for the rest of my trip - the next eight days. The damn thing "clippity-clopped" every 7 inches. That near perfect straight edge on that wheel clapped every time it came around - about every 7 inches.

I was on the train to the Geneva airport. It was a sunny day and the alps held my attention.

I made my way from the train to the airport terminal and was happy to see that it looked like a slow day. The ticket windows were deserted, except at the far end of the terminal. I kept looking for Easyjet as I got closer and closer to the packed end of the terminal. I saw orange all over that end - the color of easy jet. Oh well. I'll be in a line for a bit.

People moving this way and that. No plush ropes, no organization that I could see at all. After staying in the mob for 15 minutes, I learned that I had to get my own boarding pass and luggage tags from a kiosk. Since I really wasn't in a line, I didn't lose my place.

I got my tags and my seat pass and then wondered what the ticket windows were doing besides accepting our luggage. I found out from idle chit chat that that is ALL they do. The crowd wasn't organized at all. Everyone was pushing ahead of each other - in a civilized manner - with smiles and giggles. I realized that I had been there 40 minutes and my plane was leaving in another 45 minutes and I had no idea how long this could take.

Away from the crowd, I saw some injured skiers using a customer service window to leave their luggage and be carted away to their gates. I 'limped' over to the seats next to this 'opportunity.' I acted like I was in a bit of pain and adjusted and readjusted my leg brace, while putting it out for all to see. One of the lovely 'customer service' woman saw my act and asked if I needed any assistance.

I said that I needed to drop my luggage and make my way to the gate. "It takes me a little longer than most." She looked right and left and held her hand out for my documents. As I excused myself through the crowd - I had the biggest smile on my face. "Squeaky joint gets the oil." As my old man used to say.

Easy flight to Lisbon. I caught a little nap, I hope I didn't snuggle to much with the femme petite next to me. Lisbon airport is airy, clean and efficient. The tourist office helped me make reservations at a lovely four star hotel. Huge room, nice bathroom overlooking a quiet street. I fell asleep quickly. Traveling takes a lot out of you.

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Bern Switzerland, March 24 - 25

2006-05-03T18:34:00.000-04:00

I left Milan in the morning, in a light shower. What a wonderful city.

I took the train north then west to Bern. The tourist information office was most helpful. It was a special night in Bern - Museum Night. Once a year all the museums stay open and for about $25 you can visit them all.

This is a very popular event. The museums were PACKED. I visited a few.

Schweizerisches Alpines Museum - Swiss Alpine Museum
Kunstmuseum - Museum of Fine Arts
Einstein Haus

The only thing I can compare this night to is First Night. There were street performers, people giving talks at the musuems and the museums were lit up, which made it easier for us non German speaking people to find them.

The Alpine Musuem was interesting. They had lots of displays concerning the alps. In one room there was a telescope that looked down on a huge model and you could look at certain features of the alps, as if you were very high in the atmosphere.

There were two speakers which I listened to. Both were mountian climbers but they were from different eras. One man was in his mid 60's, talking about the gear he used. He held up items that were from the 1970's and 1980's and the other man, that was much younger (30ish) held up the gear that they use today. I have no idea what they were saying but I'm sure it was about the advances in the gear used to climb the alps.

The fine arts museum was packed full. I mean, it was hard to even get into it. After one floor of being herded like cattle, I got the hell out of there.

My last stop was the Eistein Haus.

"Once the apartment of Albert Einstein, it was here where the great scientist developed the theory of relativity in the first decade of the 20th century."

That how this 'home' is described. It is the upper floors of a nice two family building. I am sure that many people lived in it after he had moved away and once his theory was accepted and he became world famous, the inhabitants were given the boot. It is a nice replica of what the inside of his home looked like, with pictures and period furniture... I touched the fireplace mantle and the fireplace stone and other items that appeared to be (structurally) original, so that I could touch what he might have touched (100 years ago).

There are displays of notes and letters he wrote. The information that caught my eye concerned his wife, Mileva. They met in Zurich, while they both attended the university. His letters to her and to others expressed his deep love for her and thankfulness for finding her and being with her. The displays never explained why many years later he divorced her to marry his cousin. (Fame corrupts?)

She was an competant mathematician and many people are certain that she worked many hours 'proving' his equations. I doubt she made the breakthrough for or even with him, but her efforts helped him create his theory faster than he could have on his own. When they say that behind every successful man is a woman - they are talking about Bert and Mileva.

Every day that he left to go work in the patent office, this is what he saw as he stepped out on the to the street and looked to his left.

This is a cute clock that puts on a show a couple times a day. Huge faces and very clean. But then, wouldn't all clocks in Switzerland be spotless.

On the morning of the March 25th, I walked around the town, looking for souvenirs, and checking out all the watches clocks and cuckoo clocks. This is a very nice city. There are lots of places to eat and shop and plenty to see and do. To bad I had to catch a flight from Geneve to Lisbon that afternoon.

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Milan, Italy March 23rd

2006-04-18T11:21:00.000-04:00

On my final day in Milan, I planned on seeing Da Vinci's last supper - anyway possible. The reservations were sold out weeks in advance but there is a bus tour of Milan, that guarantees a viewing. For 50 euros, I better get in.

I walked to the Duomo early. I had about an hour to kill. I figured out where the bus would pick up and saw a few other tourists waiting. Did I stick out, as a tourist, like they did? Half of the plaza was roped off, while they set up for 'festival weekend.'

The bus pulled in and I made my way across the plaza and attempted to board the bus. The driver explained that I have to buy my tickets in advance. Why the brochure didn't say that, I'll never know. Tickets were sold at the Tourist Office. My heart sank as I envisioned the only view I had of that office - a locked door. It is 'festival weekend' after all, they could be closed.

I made my way back across the plaza as fast as my legs would take me. The whole time, I'm thinking that the bus is going to leave without me. I was surprised to see that the office was open. I bought a ticket, it came with a travel pouch and a cd. I hurried out and saw the bus still waiting. I broke a sweat (both physical and from freaking out) and climbed in the back of the bus door.

The tour guide was talking about the city of Milan - its history, its accomplishments, its (weekly) festivals... Once I got settled in and the sweating subsided, we exited the bus, for our tour of the Duomo. After all my running back and forth and we are getting off the bus?

The Duomo in Milan took hundreds of years to build. It took so long that the architectural style changed over the years. It is massive. I think its the third largest cathedral in Europe. Only Rome and Seville are larger - I think.

Nice view???

The guide pointed out the huge stain glass windows, which told stories from the bible. There were a lot of illiterate people, hundreds of years ago, so the windows told the stories. They start at the bottom and the story continues upward:

There is a reason why this cathedral took hundreds of years to build. Attention to detail:

Marble floor design:

The last row:

The guide told us fact after fact... Largest this and oldest that and how many tons of this rock and ... I thought nothing could top the Dom in Koln Germany, I guess I'll have to go to Rome to top this one.

We exited and stopped in front of the main doors - which are closed. This allows better crowd control, though the other smaller doors. At first all you notice is that the doors are HUGE.

Then you see the intricate metal work on the door:

We headed west into a shopping area. "The most expensive land in Milan..."

Prada to the left and Yves Saint Laurent to the right:

Our group looked around like we've never been out in public before. After strolling past stores that I have no desire to see, nor could I afford, we made our way to the infamous opera house, La Scala. This was Verdi's home stage. Aida debuted here. If you want to see pictures - search the web.

Opulent boxes. Silk worked to feel like velvet. Perfect view from every seat. I really, really wanted to ask where they keep the fat lady - but then that would have identified me as low brow - best to keep that hidden.

After La Scala, we boarded the bus again. This time they drove it around. The guide showed us where Verdi died. The day before, I couldn't find the geocache hidden there. He showed all sorts of things that we quickly drove past on our way to the next thing that I would soon forget about.

Our viewing of The Last Supper was at noon and 1215. Only 15 (???) people at a time were allowed in and you only get 15 minutes to see it. This was originally a dining hall and Da Vinci painted the last supper as something to cover the walls for the monks who ate here. He used incorrect paint for the job. The church was bombed in World War Two and it was left exposed to the elements for a brief period of time. What I'm getting at is that it is a miracle that it survives at all. Only by the grace of God does it exist today.

As we make our way through the various staging areas, (very high security - The door behind us has to close before the door in front of us opens, to allow us to the next waiting area.) the guide starts to tell us that he feels that he is an extremely lucky man. He gets to see this painting many times a week and sometimes multiple viewings a day. He said that as a boy, his school class came here. His life was changed forever. He warned us that it is a very emotional thing for him to see.

The door opens and we enter 'the mess hall.' He starts to talk about the painting at the other end of the hall - no one cares. I didn't. I moved toward what we all came to see. A couple people follow me and in a minute, the guide gives up and joins us. Because of the time constraints, the facts come much faster.

Look at the zoomable website:
The Last Supper

He talks about what Da Vinci was trying to tell us. What each of the apostles are doing, how and why they are grouped just so. When he says that this was attempt to capture the moment when Jesus announced that he has been betrayed and that one of them is the betrayer. At that moment I began to weep. I couldn't control myself. Where was this coming from? Tears flowed, I sniffled and I tried to smile at my fellow tourists.

I stared at this deteriorating masterpiece and listened the best I could. The guide was right - it is very emotional. A speaker announced that our time had expired. As we made out way out, the guide quietly said to me that he has felt the same way many times.

As we waited for the other half of our group to view it, I pondered my emotional state. As quickly as it came over me, it was gone. When you understand how many elements Leonardo packed into this work and how lucky we are to still be able to see it - you will shed a tear too.

How it looks now:

As it might have appeared before the deterioration:

The moment.
This was my third painting, of my trip, that attempts to capture this moment. The others were nice - but this is the only one you need to see. The guide had also talked about how Jesus was shown in The Last Supper. He was a man and he was about to become a god. He did not want to die. Who does? Even with the promise of eternal life he was not totally at peace, with what was to occur. He is wearing red and blue. The red symbolizes him as a man and the blue represented him as a god. The hand on his red side is stressed and moves nervously. The hand on the blue side was at peace and calmly rests. I could go on and on about what Leonardo packed into this mural.

By the way - Dan brown is full of crap. Its not Mary next to Jesus. This doesn't stop anyone from using the famous book as a way to get cash from the tourists though. References to the Da Vinci Code, were in most of the 'touristo' shops.

Once the second group joined us outside, we made our way back on to the bus and were returned to Piazza del Duomo. I gave the guide and driver a tip and thanked them both for a wonderful tour.

We had also visited Sforzesco Castle in Milan - well it was used as more of a prison than a castle.

It was around 1300, so I stopped at the autogrill for lunch. If it was good enough for Samantha Brown, travel channel, well it would be damn good to me. Italy's version of fast food. It has a Panani counter, a pizza counter - I stopped here. Half of small pizza, salad and cola for seven dollars.

I went to my hotel and dropped all the booty I accumulated during the morning and headed out to see Leonardo Da Vinci's Museum of Science and Technology. I had visions of recreations of machines that he drew, maybe some of his actual notes or a replica of his workspace. What a disappointment. They did have some replicas of his inventions, small ones. Most of the museum was full of educational displays for children. How to smelt metals, how hydraulics work and similar displays. YAWN!!!

I walked back to the Duomo for sunset. While watching the people and entrepreneurs a man approached me. Anotello was his name. His broken english was so much better than the 4 sentences I knew in italian. I thought he said that he was going to perform on the stage they were building. What he said was that he was going to attend the concert in two days. He asked me about my life in America and I learned about his.

He was from the countryside outside of Florence, Italy. He said that the big city of Milan was not to his liking. In his town, everyone hangs out at the plaza, at the cathedral, to talk. Everyone gets to know each other. In Milan, no one has time to chat - they are too busy going somewhere to do something. He had been in Milan for 2 months and could not find work. He has no college degree so there is no work for him. Tourist Alert - Tourist Alert!!! Here comes the pitch - How much is he going to ask me for? The pitch never comes. He did not ask for anything. After some more chit chat he announced that he had to go meet his roommate for dinner. "Chow" Now that I think about it. I didn't have one person ask me for money, in Milan. How refreshing.

That night I returned to the same restaurant, as the previous night. This time I splurged for dessert.

Next Stop Bern, Switzerland!

.

Milan, Italy March 21 / 22

2006-04-17T23:21:00.000-04:00

I took the train south from Zurich to Milan. The tracks were on the western edge of the alps.

I arrived in the middle of a Tuesday afternoon. Since Milan surrounds the Duomo, its only natural that the tourist office be there. The Europe by Eurail books information about this city was invaluable. I stored my luggage, hopped on the subway and was at the Duomo as quick as possible.

1602 - oh that's 4:02pm in American. You know most of the world runs on the 24 hour clock. One o'clock occurs only once a day the other is 1300 hours. Anyway I was two minutes too late. PHUCK!!! Closed at 4pm??? W T F!!! The Eurail book was locked up with my luggage. It would have had a list of streets to shop to find a good hotel. All I had was the subway stop and address of the CLOSED tourist office.

I stood there for a few minutes watching other tourists pull and push on the doors before I thought of plan B. I followed the trams direction. The first hotel I saw, had a vacancy and was only 80 euros a night. I asked to see the room. I decided to keep walking.

I saw what looked to be a 4 star hotel and wasn't sure where I was in relation to the Duomo or the train station for that matter. The streets meander and curve and can easily help you get lost. So I asked reception if they have a vacancy for three nights. He called a couple people to see if they were going to use their reservations, he called the owner for permission to put me in. Apparently is was festival weekend and my third night was on a sold out weekend.

He hung up with the owner and said he would call one of their other hotels. I understood Italian for the first time. He was inquiring about getting the correct room for me. He said in Italian that I was a large man and that I needed a large bed. I laughed right on cue and the look in his eyes said that he knew that I spoke Italian. I don't.

He gave a rate of about $150 a night which was more than the average I planned on, but I've had a few below the average and I was in a jam - Sure, I'll take it. He gave me directions, to the sister hotel. As I found myself back along the tram tracks I saw the hotel. Didn't look like anything special but it was better than the first one I saw. The reception area looked like the 1970's but no tackiness to it. The chrome, wood and tile all worked together.

The bellman brought me to my room, which looked very nice. King sized bed, mini bar, lots of closet space. Light switches all around the room. The door key, when stored correctly, activated the room. The lights turned on, the switches all worked. Window blinds controls were active... He left. I entered the bathroom.

(cue dramatic music)

WOW

A truly gorgeous bathroom. The bathroom was nearly as big as the sleeping room. Linens hanging in addition to the towels... Bidet and toilet... Corner shower. This was a nice hotel room - very nice for this budget range.

Ok - got a room. Now I need my stuff. The hotel reception told me what tram to take and how to buy a ticket (Damn tourIST OFFICE!!!). The best part was when he told me that when I see the station, "the big building" as he called it, I should get off. Well... taking the subway to the duomo, I never saw the outside of the train station.

I sat on this quaint trolley car. It was just as timeless as the cable cars in San Francisco. Strange how little english is used on either system. I didn't have a map on me, so I had no idea where the trolley was going. Wouldn't have helped, I didn't know where I was to start with. I hear someone say "...Centrale..." (sen-trall-ay) and at the next stop almost everyone got off the trolley. Piece of cake.

Grabbed my bag and stand at a taxi stand for about 30 minutes. No taxi appears. One by one people leave the line and never come back. I leave one woman in the evaporating line and find the real taxi line.

I'm standing behind a three Italian women. All about 5'10" with heels they are almost as tall as I am. I notice their long luxurious hair, the tight jeans, and the long legs. The line was moving slowly. At first, I was trying to pick up on what they were talking about then I was just gawking. Two women were young 19 - 20 ish and the third and the most beautiful woman was older. Mid to late 50's. One of the young ones caught my roving eyes and smiled at me.

She told the older woman something about me. And they glanced at me and smiled. I smiled back. They were hot and they knew it. No acting on their part. They must get it all the time. A cab for me pulled up and I loaded the bag and handed the address to the driver. I looked over and the young one, who caught me checking them out, was looking over at me as we pulled away.

I realized that there were good looking - fine women, everywhere I looked. I was sure that I would like Milan. There's so much to see.

I saw this at Centrale Station, Milan - It cracked me up:

He was loved by many, tagged by one

I spent March 22nd out walking and geocaching. I found out that viewings of Da Vinci's last supper was booked weeks in advance and there was only one way I was going to see it was to take the bus tour of Milan. I planned for that on the 23rd.

I walked around for a while following where the gps pointed. I found 2 out of 4. A nice sunny day. It felt warm like spring. I had a fun day stopping here and there for something to eat or drink and to watch all the people hurrying somewhere. Doner count is now at 4 - I think.

The front desk clerk recommended a good restaurant and I headed over. It was around 7pm. They weren't open yet. Finally, a city that runs on my time. Breakfast at 9 lunch at 3 and dinner at nine. I walked around for a while and found a snack store - actually it was a market that had everything. I stocked up on water, soda, beer and munchies. "Screw you mini-bar!"

The waitstaff, of the restaunt, spoke english (and german and french and greek...) and could help a deaf mute order a meal in which he knew exactly what he was ordering. I ordered the house wine and was satisfied from that moment forward. This was a wonderful meal. Vino, salad, fresh bread, olive oil, pasta, veal and it was all very simple - or so they made it appear. I felt warm and full as I took a roundabout way back to the hotel. I was in Milan for just over 24 hours and was extremely satisified.

Flamingos along my path:

Improvise:

.

Zurich Switzerland March 20-21

2006-04-16T09:05:00.000-04:00

Zurich is a small city set in an area where apparently, money does grow on trees. Not anywhere that the general population or I could harvest it, though. Just because there is a lot of money in swiss bank accounts doesn't mean that it leaks out. This is a very expensive city. I don't understand why. It has a thriving economy and is a picturesque stop for tourism (it must be gorgeous in winter). Then why did a basic dinner for one (one entree and two beers) cost nearly 50 dollars. I can't imagine what a fancy dinner would cost here, but it wouldn't be worth the money.

Zurich was a one night stop for me. I am so glad that I did not plan on a longer stay. The hotel I slept in was in the old city and it was fun hauling my luggage around trying to find the sliver of a building. Once I did, I was welcomed to the oldest hotel in Zurich. The woman at the desk, told me the complete history of the hotel. The daily log since the late 1800's including its history of debauchery (wink - yes she winked). I wasn't impressed, she had no idea I was just in Amsterdam.

Once she recounted the complete renovation of the hotel, brick by brick, I was then allowed to go to my room. I rested a bit before heading back out. I needed to buy Zurich trinkets ASAP.

By the time I went back out, the city was dark. I used my gps to find a cache in the olde city - not to be confused with the old city. I then tried to find a another which had multiple stops. As I crossed the river, in a light rain. I finally saw the starting point of the multi cache. Not near the point where the webpage said it was. Not only do they have no idea of what money is worth, they have no idea where they are. It was getting late and I only found an Asian restaurant was open. This is where I spent $50 on a basic chinese meal.

After strolling the cobblestone (slippery) streets for a while, I returned to my hotel. The same woman was behind the counter, lecturing the people checking in on the complete history that they were about to pay extra for. I guess the history of the hotel is included in the price of the room. I smiled and moved quickly to the elevator. I did say completely renovated, right?

In the morning, after having breakfast, overlooking the quaint street, I checked out and made my way to the train station. I searched a park near the train station for another cache, with no luck. It was cloudy with light passing showers for both days. I nice city but, I doubt I'll stop here to pay extra again.

Next stop Milan, Italy.

Looks like something from the computer game, Myst.

I saw this ad on the street:

How long would this ad last on the streets in America?

Me likey:

She looks like the female firefighter on 'Rescue Me'

Price of Gas:

Nano Cars:

.

Salzburg Austria - March 19th

2006-04-14T04:59:00.000-04:00

The previous night was another scary one. I had my second low blood sugar episode, on this trip. I woke up covered in sweat and reality felt like a dream. I knew instantly what was going on. I dug into my suitcase and pulled out a tube of emergency carbs. It tasted like fruit jelly. I toweled off and fell back into bed, exhausted. When I woke, I felt fine. 109 for a test reading.

Up early and out to get on the train I reserved. Just a quick breakfast. Its 7 am and there is no one eating. The hotel owner has a funny interpretation for a 'very busy weekend.' I was on the train by 8 am for my day in Salzburg.

The city has a castle on a hill overlooking the city:

On the other side of the river (west or north side?) is another walled area:

It was another sunny day - a little cold when you were in the shade, but the sun felt warm and I was walking around trying to find caches. It was a Sunday, so most of the shops were closed. Fine by me, I only wanted souvenirs anyway.

Mozart lived here. Nice city to live in. How he died poor, I'll never understand.

Even though most everything was closed, I did find an Asian restaurant that made a killer chicken curry dish and had large beers too. My train brought me back to Munich for my last night. Not much to say. After one week on the road, I was starting to feel at home. I was getting used to the rhythm and my tasks were getting easier to accomplish. Good thing, 'cause I was off to Zurich in the morning.

.

Munich March 18th

2006-04-12T17:48:00.000-04:00

I enjoyed my continental breakfast in a mostly empty breakfast room, around 9am. There were 5 women replenishing the buffet, a couple couples on vacation. Where were the craft people, that supposedly filled the hotel?

The wait staff were also 20 something females, like the front desk staff. I wondered if they were 'models' too? I wondered why the youngest one wore such little fabric. I wondered why the two older gentlemen, kept asking her to pour their coffee. I wondered why the yogurt tasted so good. I wonder why?

First stop, die Glockenspiel, a 'must see' according to the books.

It is a cute little show. A must see, sure it is. Teenagers might pshaw it, but it is cute. Remember to wait for the cuckoo. In between the two chimes, I hunted for geocaches. Once again the easy one was hard and the hard ones were easy. After the second botched filming of the show, I did some window shopping. I found myself at Dallmayr, a delicatessen.

You don't buy heros or subs or hoagies here. Cheeses, meats and fine delectables. I had been enjoying the breakfasts on my vacation, especially the croissants with fruit preserves. I found the correct area and figured out which of Dallmayrs preserves were (looked to be ???) the best and I looked for a unique fruit. I knew that I was almost out of Nagoonberry jam, from my Alaska stop, last summer and a new jar of something different was needed. All I found were the normal berrys, no black forest berry or a limited rhineland variety. If you want a certain cheese or coffee bean or caviar this is where you should find it.

This is a window shoppers paradise. Shop after shop after shop... I wanted to get to Hofbrauhaus before it got crazy. Too late it was already open. Beer, glorious beer. I squeezed in at the end of a table - just about the only open seat I saw. I ordered a dunkle - it was browner than the regular. To make ordering easy there is no size choices, just how many do you want. Start by ordering only one. They come in liter size only. I grab a pretzel as she came by. It helped get that mug down. I was thirsty, but I didn't want to be drunkenly stumbling the streets of olde Munich at noon.

I was there for about a half hour. This place must be out of control at midnite. There were a lot of tourists. I wonder if many Japanese pictures of them holding preztels make it on the internet? Yes, they do!

Once the oompah band started their shenanigans, I guzzled down the rest and made my way out, via the gift shop. That's right, The German version of a Hard Rock is a Hofbrauhaus. I remember buying a t-shirt and a couple trinkets. I mailed home a bunch of stuff from Munich about three weeks ago and if this was the fastest way, I think I just discovered that the Germans aren't really that efficient after all.

Back to drunk in Munich, at high noon:
After a few minutes my head cleared - a second mug and I would have been stuck there all afternoon. I wandered in an out of various beerhalls, seeing what everyone was eating. I stopped at a couple more beer halls, Ayinger and an Augustiner. A fun day in sunny Munich. Full of wursts and brau.

Road Trip to Salzburg is next.

.

Munich March 17th

2006-04-12T07:05:00.000-04:00

As the train stopped at Munich's Hauptbahnhof, I couldn't get off soon enough. The previous night was the most uncomfortable sleep I've had in a long time. Pinned in one position, no room to toss and turn or stretch. Only slightly more room than an airplane. Didn't they know that people would try to sleep on this journey? I learned a lesson from this night, book overnight train travel accommodations early to get the type what you want.

I had some time to kill, so I stored my bag and did some geocaching. There were two right outside of the train station - I found one. The other was too obscure to understand what I was looking for. It was a cool and sunny day outside and after the short hunt, I went back in to set up my hotel, seat reservations for a Salzburg day trip and sleeping arrangements for the Lisbon to Madrid and Madrid to Paris train rides.

Typical German efficiency. I don't think it took 45 minutes to do all this. The hotel was tucked away a few blocks away and it was only 11am. I grabbed cash from a bank machine - I needed to start buying stuff in Germany, right away. I ate a bratwurst from the 'original bratwurst stand' and then had another, with a bavarian ale at the stand up counter behind the original. Both tasted great. I went to the hotel, to see if they could let me in my room now.

The room they gave me was small - I mean tiny. It did have a small balcony, but really - too small. I went back down and the sweetheart behind the counter knew what was on my mind. She asked, before I could say one word, "Is it too small?" "Yes" I replied. She asked me to wait one moment and disappeared into the breakfast room. A minute later she returned with a woman about my age and two other Rosy cheeked 20 something women.

After a short discussion, the older woman barked something at the first girl and the three younger ones giggled and looked at me. The woman said that she was the owner and that this weekend they were having a crafts fair at the hotel. "A very busy weekend." She said in near perfect english that since I had booked three nights, she was moving me to a more spacious room for my stay. I asked what was so funny. One of the younger women giggled again. The owner said that she had joked that one of the girls could stay with me to make better use of the big room. Something got lost in the translation. Nonetheless, all four watched me make my way back on the elevator, with big bright smiles.

The new room was much bigger and it had a huge terrace to relax on - if it wasn't winter. I unpacked and as I went through my stuff, I realized that I left a pair of pants in Amsterdam. Back downstairs I went. Just the original woman was there. She smiled at me as I approached the desk. "Is something wrong with the room?" I said, "Yes, its still too small." She looked shocked. I smiled and laughed and told her I was joking. I said that I needed to make a phone call to Amsterdam and needed to know what I have to dial make this call.

She was helpful and I was once again on my way back up the elevator. She watched me depart, smiling the whole time. I made my call to the Tulip Inn and they said they would look and if found they would hold my pants for my return at the end of the month. I knew I left them hanging in the closet.

I just remembered (as I write this) that I saw something weird in the streets of Amsterdam. While resting on the damrak, another large man passed me with a rolling bag. He was tall and wide with blond hair. He glanced at me and I saw his face. He looked like John Candy. I don't mean sort of or similar. It was him, or his doppelganger, or maybe a clone, possibly it was his son. I just looked it up and he does have a son. If it was his son, he looks just like John.

Anyway - back to Munich

I laid down to get a little real sleep before exploring the city. A knock at the door woke me around 5pm. It was the young woman from the front desk. She was holding my baseball cap. It was found in the small room as someone else got squeezed in.

We talked briefly and she showed me how the windows and door to terrace worked. They open regularly and you can open just the top, lean it in, for ventilation. I explained that the train ride had been terrible and this nap had helped a lot. After a few awkward moments, of me staring at her rosy cheeks, flowing brown hair and full lips, she excused herself. I wondered if the girls were hired for more than hotel help, if you know what I mean.

I took a shower, got dressed and headed out. One of the maps I brought along was a beer hall map. I got it from:
http://www.xs4all.nl/~patto1ro/munipubs.htm

The white 'H' is where my hotel was and as you can see #4 was the closest. Spaten Hof. Once again, I was surprised how easy it was to span the differences in languages. You would be amazed how easy it is to order a beer in Germany.

Since I've been to a great German restaurant in Springfield, the Student Prince, many times, I was a little familiar with the menu. Jaeger Schnitzel with a few large beers and I felt welcome in Munich. In fact I felt warm all over. Although they didn't advertise it, they had Spaten Optimator on tap, which I enjoyed as a desert.

I headed back out to the crisp air and a light snow was falling. I wandered into the old city and walked around admiring the shops and listening for fellow American tourists. This was one of those times I wish I had a girlfriend / wife to enjoy this moment together. I eventually made my way back to the hotel and stopped along the way at a snack store and for my third Donor KeBAP of my trip. That makes teh count three/

On my way in the hotel, yet another group of three gorgeous 20 something women, working the front desk. As I closed the elevator door I thought, "Where were all the craft show people?" I see lots of staff working but shouldn't I hear voices at some point?

.

Amsterdam - March 16th

2006-04-11T16:09:00.000-04:00

I packed everything up - I had to check out of the hotel. I planned to take the overnight train to Munich and needed to vacate the room. I had all my valuables on me and the duffel had all my clothes. First stop - Centraal Station - I needed to make sure I could reserve the overnight train. The night before on my walk, I stopped by the office, but they were closed.

Enter, take a ticket, have a seat. Here on the German side of eurail network, I expected this to take a half hour. Well it took 10 minutes. Just tell them where and when you want to go. I can only imagine how fast the matrix code rolled down the screen, to help her process me efficiently as possible. She told me that the only bed available was in a 4 bed chamber. They did have couchettes available. "Sure sounds good."

I was free until 8pm. Next stop Van Gogh Museum. I took the bus to die museumplein and walked around the museum while waiting for it to open. They had a special exhibition of Rembrandt v. Caravaggio. Similar subjects painted by both. Caravaggio paintings look like snapshots. Rembrandts are recreations from memory. (deep huh?) Its impossible for me to describe the nuances of these two masters. Caravaggio's subject jump off the canvas, and look as if they are there with you. Rembrandts are on the wall and you are looking in to the scene he created.

Needless to say, but I was overwhelmed by their choices when creating these historical events. I moved slowly from one pair to another, while the narration played in my ears. English, yes my favorite language.

After this, I moved on to the namesake of the museum.
FACT: Most of his work was produced in a 10 year period.
FACT: He was crazy and he knew it.
FACT: He attempted suicide twice - the second time worked.
FACT: His brother was so devastated about Vincent's death, that he passes 6 months later.
FACT: Vincent Van Gogh proves that sometimes you have to die to become famous.
FACT: He only sold one painting while he was alive.

He was a burden on his brother most of his life. A troubled man that most likely suffered from a form of epilepsy. On this trip, I tried to learn about the artists lifes. More FACTS later.

His most famous works are on the road to other museums, but I did see four others from the Sunflower painting sessions though - which was neat - I guess. He used a lot of paint. I wondered if he just squeezed it out onto the canvas them took his lunch spoon and added texture to the paint. Some of the pieces, look like he ripped it out in 20 minutes and moved on to the next. With the facts about his mental illness bouncing around in my head, I couldn't appreciate what was on display.

Luckily, I had a combo ticket to the Rijksmuseum to see all the dutch masters and The Dutch Masters.

By the way, these are the back door. The front door is below.

Last time I was here, Rembrandt's The Night Watch held me captive for over 45 minutes. I slowly made my way around admiring all the wonderful paintings. Portraits, landscapes, still life... I turned the corner and its own room it attempted to hypnotize me again. There was a group of kids sitting on the floor, in from of it. These were second or third graders. I'm thinking that there is no way that even one of those kids is enthralled by this. The teacher keeps talking to them in Dutch. Which means I have no idea what is said.

I ASSUME:
Gerthrud (cute little blonde child) asks the teacher, if this is a movie theater.
No Gert, he replies, this is a painting.
Bertolh's hand is up in a flash and waving frantically.
Yes Bert, what is your question, the teacher asks cautiously
Is dat oil paint - could my father use it in his car.
The teacher rolls his eyes.
The museum guide asks the teacher to gather up the munchkins and make room for the other patrons. So cute - ah children - they are like sponges at that age - now get out of the way.

I think I was museumed out for the day. I stop for dinner before going to the train station, via the hotel, for my bag.

At the train station, I grab some munchies for the overnight ride. and make my way to the platform. I learn about car numbers and where the bar/food cars are. Almost time to depart, better get on board.

What a shock. I thought I took pictures of these 'couchettes.' Its a seat that reclines. Well it rotates more than it reclines. It looked like something out of a science fiction movie. I thought I was in the movie "Total Recall" on my way to Mars. Images of "Abbott and Costello go to Mars" came to mind also.

And - lucky for me, I was in the last car before the bar car, so everyone who needed food or drink walked past me. I was very tired and slept through most of it. I'm so glad that there weren't many people on board. It could have been miserable.

Actually, it was.
Next stop Munich

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Amsterdam March 15th

2006-04-10T08:52:00.000-04:00

Since I was up early, I hit the continental breakfast while it was fresh. Yogurt, rolls and croissants, preserves, meats, cheeses, cereals... Nice simple breakfast.

I was out hunting caches by 9 AM. From the Dam I headed toward Rembrandt House and eventually found my way to the far end of Vondelpark. I found three geocaches while walking this small city.

For some reason, I didn't use the public transportation. Where the gps pointed, didn't appear to be where the trams were going. It didn't matter. It was a crystal clear day - not a cloud in the sky. Temperature was in the low 40's. Perfect for me to walk and not overheat. I figured that I walked over 5 miles during my first European hunt and I felt good. By the time I got back to the hotel, mid afternoon, I was feeling exhausted. I decided to take a nap and be ready for another night of cheap beer and crazy times.

When I woke up, it was dark outside. I was covered in sweat, my head was dripping like I had just stepped out of the shower. I felt like I was in a dream. It took a few minutes, but I realized that I was having a low blood sugar episode. I needed food.

I hadn't eaten anything while walking. I had water but no lunch. I didn't remember that my shower bag had emergency carbs in it. I threw on the clothes I wore earlier and made my way downstairs and outside. I started to feel weak. No time to waste. I turned left - there was a coffeeshop. In hindsight this is a good place to go. Fresh squeezed orange juice, chocolate milk, hot chocolate, sweet munchies, not to mention the contact high to calm me down.

I got to end of the alley and to my right were both Mcdonalds and Burger King. My legs felt like rubber and the sweat just kept flowing. I nearly fell as I walked into Burger King (BK Lounge as I affectionately call it). Ordered a chicken sandwich meal with a real coke. Lots of carbs in that potato, bread and sugar water meal.

As the cashier and I waited for the sandwich to come out of the frier and be coated in mayo, I remember thinking that I should ask him for the fries and drink - just to get something in me. I looked around and wondered what everyone thought about me. I must have looked like something out of a monster movie. This huge man, stumbling along, resting every few minutes, wiping sweat from his brow. How did I really look, in this state? My inner voice screamed, "HURRY!!"

Finally, he hands me the tray and I sit at the table closest to me. I nearly choked as I guzzled half of the soda. I stuffed a few fries in my mouth and chewed. In a few moments, my view of the world focused and I felt that the sweating had stopped. The ketchup on the fries tasted very sweet. I alternated the dipping of the fries (pomme frites) into the mayo and then ketchup and worked them one by one into my mouth. Mayo on fries? Sound crazy doesn't it? Try it. Its amazing how the various fats accomodate each other.

By the time I finished the meal - all of five minutes, I felt much better. A very close call. As I made my way out the door, I heard the cashier close and lock it behind me. I went back to my room to assess what just happened. It was 10:15 pm. I slept for over 6 hours. After a carb heavy meal, my blood sugar number was only 96. It should have been like 160. It was then that I realized that I had walked out and left my emergency carbs in the room. This was a bad thing. I could have passed out in the alley and found myself in the hospital or not have woken up at all.

I stripped, took a shower and laid down to catch my breath, before getting dressed and heading out. I was so exhausted that I fell asleep. I woke up at two am and laid there for a while before I decided to get dressed and head out for a walk.

As I walked past the BK Lounge, I though to myself:

"Long live the King. He saved my life, you know"

.

Amsterdam continued...

2006-04-09T10:46:00.000-04:00

The night of the 14th was the craziest I had experienced in a looooong time. It was a Tuesday night and you would have thought it was a weekend. The coffeeshops were packed. That's not saying much, since most only have a dozen seats. The bars were full of people from all over the globe. People were partying - hard.

I strolled in, to the hotel, after midnight and slid between the sheets. The couple in the next room were between the sheets too. By four am I'm sure they had ripped all the sheets off the bed, pushed the thin mattresses out of the way and were rubbing the varnish off of the wood bed frame, with their naked bodies. My journal says, "4am March 15th HOLY CRAP!!! They're going at it again."

They weren't shy, that's for sure. Their voices echoed down the alley way. I heard him finish for I think the fourth time and thought that I might make it to dawn, when I hear her start to moan again. Wow, what a man. Once she started getting loud again, I got up, got dressed and went out for a walk. I already had 7 or 8 hours of sleep that day and knew I wouldn't get back to sleep, with the guinness book of world record setters, next door.

At 4:30 am, Amsterdam is a quiet city. Only street cleaners, which seem to work around the clock, with their witch style broom sticks (with green bristles) and the street sweeper truck moving slowly behind them, sucking up whatever they sweep in its path, were out and about. I walked for a while and saw the tourist areas, without any tourists. I strolled a few of the red light areas and this was about the only place I saw other people. Some window shopping, and the women behind the windows. I wondered if there were any late night sale prices.

I found myself at the Dam, and I admired the monument. A big phallus symbol, I assume to help people find the biggest red light district. "Walk that way until you see the giant penis and turn left. Once you see lots neon colored women standing in windows - you are there."

The monument has a date of 1940. Look at how they made the number 4 back then. Looks like an S, that could be used in SS. Hmmmm, where was Hilter when this was 'erected?'

I went back to the hotel to freshen up and have breakfast. As I approached the my room, I could hear that the neighbors were quiet. As I turned my key, their door also opened and a woman stepped out, fully dressed, with a little rolling bag. Tall, thin, brown hair, brown eyes - yes I looked. I slowly stepped into my room as my two male neighbors thanked her for a wonderful night. As I closed the door, I reminded myself that I wasn't in Kansas anymore.

.

Day 1 Amsterdam (March 14th, 2006)

2006-04-08T12:42:00.000-04:00

I left my home in Connecticut at noon and 18 hours later at Noon, I was in Schipohl (skip-hole) airport. In my pocket was my passport, eurail pass, $100US, a few credit cards and my bank debit card. I did not have any hotels booked, nor any train reservations. The next date on my calendar was eleven days away, my flight from Geneva to Lisbon. The only other thing booked on my calendar was the flight home in 19 days. I wasn't worried in the least.

I had none of the normal fears like 'Where will I stay?'
Nice Hotels. Its 'off season.' This being my seventh or eighth European vacation, I knew that every price range (level of quality) would be available. And was in abundance.

but -
How will I get around? Eurail pass - 15 days contiguous - Valid for almost everywhere in Western Europe. Three of my nights were going to be spent on trains, Amsterdam to Munich, Lisbon to Madrid, and Madrid to Paris).

My only question was - What needed to be done first?
Cash - Euros, I need to start buying stuff, like right now
Then train to Amsterdam Centraal Station.

I had read a few books before packing for this trip and if you've read some of these, you know that you don't want to bring many with you. I have Lets Go, Lonely planet and a few of Rick Steves tomes (which are reasonable in size, I might add). All of these except for a couple tiny language guides were left at home, having been perused and copied down onto a few tiny font printouts. I did bring the Thomas Cook Rail Time Schedules and, as it turned out, a very useful Europe by Eurail book.

This book gave me information about each station that saved me hours at each stop. It said where the cash machine was, where the train reservation office was (to book departure train travel), by what track is the hotel reservation office and where is the tourist information office, booth, kiosk...

I did pack light. I followed Rick Steves packing light guidelines. Pack 2 pair of pants, 5 shirts (underoos, socks) and one pair of shoes. "For 20 days?" you ask. In case you didn't know (come closer) they have Laundromats there too. I had the largest rolling duffel bag allowed by airlines (without any extra fees). At any moment, I could put everything even the carry on bags and contents into it.

So I stuffed my carry on bag in the duffel and made my stops. Since it was the start of my trip, I new that I will need cash for the whole trip and I should grab my daily limit for a while. "Now, what was that exchange rate. What is my banks daily limit? Ah I don't remember." I grabbed 250 euros. Stuffed most of it in my "Neck Wallet" (Kinda hard to pickpocket me if you gotta stuff your hand under my shirt.)

I made my way down to the train station. Yes, a train station at the airport - BRILLIANT! I bought my ticket and went to the track, boarded the proper class car, sat down and thought this is too easy. This trip can't go this smoothly.

Outside of the station is VVV (fay-fay-fay). Tourist information for Amsterdam. Short line - lucky me. I booked a 3 star hotel, the Tulip Inn, just off the Dam and made my way out down the Damrak. Gorgeous day, a chill in the air but not a wintry one. The trees were just starting to bud. I'm making my way, staring at the map, realizing that its farther than I thought.

I hadn't eaten anything on my flights through Iceland and its 18 hours later and I'm lugging my butt - on an empty stomach. I get to the dam(n) square and am sweaty and feeling a little bit shaky. Its a slow day, no street performers, or peddlers...No food vendors. :(

After a few minutes of map study, I realized I was a couple alleys away from my hotel. My room was nice. The bed was spartan.

Begin Inner Voice
They learned about the usefulness of ICE in the last twenty years. If you are not going to have a box spring how about a thick mattress.
End Inner Voice

For an Amsterdam room it is very nice.

FOOD!!!! That was both my inner and outer voice.

The room was fine - head down to the alley and find FOOD! Up the second alley was my first European 'meal.' My first doner kebap (Donor Kay-BAP) of the trip. If that's too hard, to say then say Blitzen (rain-dear). With salad, white sauce and the red hot sauce. Coca-cola "light" No 'diet' coke or pepsi here. I go back to the hotel stopping at the snack store (soda, beer, water, munchies...) and crash out - for four hours.

The most important thing to consume in Amsterdam is not marijuana, or herring, or the red light district. Its water. When on vacation, drink lots of bottled water. You have no idea how much you are walking, how hard you are thinking, how much you are sweating. I drank a 1.5 liter every night and I have no idea how many I drank while walking around the cities, during the day. The second most important thing to consume - beer.

When I awoke, I took a shower and headed out into the night for fun and laughs and to see how many vampires walk the streets.

Heineken on tap is still real cheap, at the cheap and some fine establishments. Amsterdam at night is a real shocker the first time you come here. Now I giggle at my surroundings. Coffeeshops, don't sell much coffee. They sell 'the dutch flowers.' Some of these blooms are especially prized and sell for 10 euros a gram, that's right twelve dollars. "When in Rome."

The red light district is another aspect of the city that people don't talk about much. What happens in the red light district, stays in the red light district. From 18 year olds to 70 year old: white, black, yellow, red, mix, german, italian, dutch (of course), french, spanish, norwegian, swedish, croatian... If you have cash, you can have it your way. You don't need much but Visa won't get you in the door.

Did I mention that the beer was cheap - Heineken and Amstel light were for sale in the pepsi machine at my hotel. One euro gets you a soda or a beer. What a country.

Before we begin

2006-04-08T11:19:00.000-04:00

April 8th:
I've been home for almost a week now. I got through the bin of US mail, the screens of email messages. I reacquainted myself with the house, found my to do lists - but dad's estate checkbook is MIA - where did I hide it??? I got the taxes done. I'm sitting pretty after a whirlwind three week European tour.

Amsterdam, Munich, Salzburg, Zurich, Milan, Bern, Lisbon, Madrid, Paris, Luxembourg, Brussels and Amsterdam again.

I've toyed with ways to present my diaries, pictures and videos. Should I just go ahead and fill everyone's inbin with my pictures. Who wouldn't like 4 or 5 megabytes of pictures of ME? Here is my AFTER calendar and the first page of my journal (who can decypher that chicken scratch?).

Looking at these, its best if I take my time and publish it via blog. No matter how I try to organize it, its going to look like a bunch of half thoughts and nice,yet meaningless (to you) pictures. But after 10 countries in 20 days - what do you expect. I barely had time to fall asleep before the next day began.

First Stop - AMSTERDAM!