Warning: Does Not Include Robots OR Aliens (or, the Rural Roadtrip to Rotterdam)

Halfway through our time in Amsterdam, we decided that rather than stick to cities for the following week, we would venture farther out into the rural regions. We picked up the cheapest car we could get (a teensy Toyota Aygo) on a weekend discount and headed north.

By nightfall we had crossed over the longest dike in the world, stretching from Nord Holland to Freisland, sheltering the Ijsselmeer. We spent the night across the provincial border back in Groningen, camped a few kilometres from the ocean. We hiked out to the seawall and gazed for a while at the barrier islands and the chilly North Sea, then as the rain picked up, retreated to the campsite.

Zeehondencreche. My new favourite word.

The following morning we began with a visit to the Zeehondencreche - seal rehabilitation clinic - near the coast in Pieterburen. Not an awful lot to explore, but the seals and seal pups are just adorable, and the admisson price goes to help the creche continue to save seals that have been injured by stray netting and oil and such.

We drove south and found Peize, the town from which Dan's grandparents emigrated to Canada, and then went south along the German border, through the rural heartland of the Netherlands.

If you think miniature horses are cute, and you think baby horses are cute, google images of baby miniature horses. Adorable, right?! You're welcome.

Sunday we spent the morning at the Oorlogsmuseum in Overloon, which is the site of the biggest tank battle ever fought in the Netherlands. The park surrounding the museum used to be littered with tanks and other military paraphenelia, left for decades just as it was all dropped as an in-situ memorial. Now, as the weather was destroying the equipment, its all been moved inside, part an enormous collection. In additon to the vehicles from Overloon, it contains more WWII vehicles and a large selection of American military peices from later conflicts. The other side of the museum is devoted to a display on the Dutch Resistance.

Happy Father's Day Dad!!

It was Father's Day, so as a tribute to my dad, I looked dutifully at the various tanks and whatnot. And did not mention even once that they all look the damn same.

(Cue outburst!)

We left Overloon and tore across the southern Netherlands into Belgium: rather than a half day in Masstricht, where from my research I feel we could spend several days, we decided that Bruges would be rather easier to tackle in the time remaining to us.

Bruges

While I wouldn't say the buildings in Bruges are more beautiful than those in the other old cities of Europe, it just has a seemingly endless supply. Every plaza, every canal is lined with gorgeous, Gothic architecture. Its a bit overwhelming in its fairytale-like atmosphere... save for the hordes of tourists, there to break the spell.

We spent our final day with the car driving back up through Zeeland and Suid Holland. We stopped in Middleburg, a cute town on one of the islands, amd spent a half hour flat out on the chilly beach that runs the length of the long dikes. Would have been a great beach if we could have so much as taken off our sweaters.

By evening, we'd made it to Rotterdam, where, after dropping of the car, we would spend the next three nights.

We did two things in Rotterdam that I enjoyed far more than I anticipated I would, both to do with the port. First, we took a 75 minute harbour tour. Although not enough for Dan, who wanted to see more of the heavy industrial side of things, it was enough for me to learn the basics of the fourth largest port in the world (It has its own theme song. Dan likes to sing it. I do not. I was forced to ban it for my own sanity).

Nerdy as it is, I thought it was cool to watch the cranes and trucks unload the giant cargo ships - it happens so quickly, and in such a beautifully synchronized way. It's impressive, really.

My second port experience took place as we were waiting to board our ferry from Hoek Van Holland to Harwich, England. With five hours to kill, and Dan always keen to explore ridiculously large constriction sites, we made our way to the information building for Maasvelt 2, the newest piece of the ever-expanding Rotterdam harbour, which is currently being built on open water. Seriously, they throw a whole bunch of coarse sand into the water until it stays, then they stick in concrete reinforcements. Voila! New land. Crafty Dutch!

Key point for potential visitors: although the place is called 'Futureland,' there are in fact neither aliens nor robots involved. It is literally just about land that will exist in the future. There IS, however, a partial mammoth skeleton that was sucked up when they were relocating all that sand. The opposite of futuristic, but pretty nifty.

The receptionist at the info centre was so blown away by the fact that we had voluntarily shown up to check out the site that she arranged for someone to give us a special talk (in English!) and to answer our questions. Later on, she brought over the company president to meet us, and when we were leaving, gave us stuffed Port of Rotterdam duckies as a present. Going off the beaten path is awesome sometimes.

After our Maasvelte 2 experience, we boarded our ferry and spent the night out on the North Sea, destined at last for English-speaking lands.

What I have learned is that, although they are certainly the friendliest people in Europe, do not mess with the Dutch. If you are trying to take them over, they will resist you. They will undermine you. If you are the sea, they will build a dike, drain you out and reclaim the land. They might even build some extra land. On open sea. Out of sand. Just for the hell of it. They are fantastically stubborn, and it makes them incredible.

S.

Frites and Kölsh: Brussels and Cologne

 On the last Thursday in May, my parents left us at the hotel in Brussels. When we re-planned our trip following the Schengen revelation, we decided that at this point, we would strike out immediately for Cologne, opting to spend the time in Germany rather than Belgium. But in the three months we've now been travelling, we've learned that here and there it is essential for our mental and physical health to take breaks, to linger and to relax from the constant pull of European sightseeing. (Hard life, right? Don't hate me. I saved hard for this!)

So now in Brussels, both recovering from nasty colds and reeling from three weeks of motion through the alps and through Normandy, we decided to stay another night, and then another and another. After five days, we found that we'd fallen in love with the lively, charming city we'd planned to practically skip.

The only truly touristy thing we did was to explore an old-fashioned lambic brewery at the Musée Bruxellois de la Gueuze, where we were pleasantly surprised by the sour, but delicious gueuze beer. The brewery itself still uses largely original equipment, and still relies on naturally occurring yeasts to ferment and flavour the beer in a unique way. Highly recommended if you're in the area.

Past this, we wandered the twisting, patio-lined streets, admiring the gorgeous buildings from afar. We drank alarmingly strong (and shockingly delicious) beers in brew pubs. We were in town on the weekend of the free jazz marathon - so all of these lovely streets stayed alive long into the nights. And we slept with earplugs, because Brussels knows how to party.

Finally, when we were stuffed to bursting with waffles and frites and moules and frites and beer and chocolates (and frites. I love Belgian frites with mayo SO much), we grabbed a Eurolines bus into the Rhineland.

Here's the thing about Belgium and Germany: you can drink on the streets, in the parks and in any public space. Technically you aren't supposed to drink on public transit, but no one really cares. Kiosks (variety stores) all have bottle openers next to the cash so that you can pull back on your quart right away. And they sell shot-sized bottles of Jagermeister. Although you see the occasional smashed bottle or drunken stumble, this freedom certainly doesn't breed drunken rioting.

We were discussing tactics on hiding our cans for some covert street drinking during the jazz festival in Brussels - a kiosk owner laughed at our conversation and shared this little detail. No need to sneak.

The result? Breakfast beers! Park beers! Beers while wandering the streets! It was all very exciting for us oppressed (and extra-classy) Canadians.

Once we got to Cologne, we met up with Stefan, my friend from school, and his new friends Laura and Jasmine. We spent about eight hours drinking kolsch, the local brew, in the park by the Rhine, catching up and plotting bathroom visits (tricky when the park has no public toilet!).

We shook off our hangovers the next day (I definitely did not envy Stef having to work in the morning) and went out to explore more of this fun, welcoming city. We climbed up the 509 steps of the enormous Dom, Cologne's cathedral, which houses the world's largest in-use bell. Size is, in fact, awfully important when it comes to bells... it rang while we were in the stone passages directly beside it.

So let me tell you this: do not drink the night before you plan to climb church spires.

From the top, the view is unlike that of most of the other European cities we'd seen, Cologne has big, wide streets and modern architecture rather than a tight, congested medieval core. As we were soon to learn, old buildings in Germany are rarer than elsewhere - as in Cologne, many cities were entirely rebuilt after being severely bombed during the war.

Cologne from the top of the cathedral

From Cologne, we grabbed a train to Frankfurt-am-Main to meet Dan's friends, Jan and Daniel for dinner. We only spent a night, in the red light district near the train station - more hilarious than dangerous. Dinner was delicious, in the student area just few U-bahn stops away.

And thankfully, as the e-coli scare ramped up and we were avoiding salads, we were back in the land of my beloved currywurst.

S.