Strange Shopping in Amsterdam...

 We worked our way back to the ferry where we could rent a car.  We rented the car for the next 26 days, vowing to never remove the monster bag from the car again until we flew out. We would just pull out what we needed each day.

      Although we could not read labels on food at the grocery store, we bought mystery food and ate it anyway, and spent much of the night watching the one English channel on TV, BBC.

      After mastering the car in my broken-back state, we found our way out of Calais into Belgium. We wandered around awhile, tried to find our way into two towns, but not being able to read the signs proved a big problem.

     Having trouble finding a motel at the end of the day, we finally found something that could be one after several dead ends. It was. We ate out of a gas station.

     We called home. The kids said Hurricane Rita was about to hit Texas.

      Heading out the next day, the girl at the desk spoke some English, and lined us out some on this day's travel. We headed out for Amsterdam.

      Belgium looked a lot like a strange version of Iowa, corn and cows. We stayed at a hotel at the airport, and rode a train into Amsterdam.

      As we walked through the Red Light District, prostitutes displayed themselves like merchandise in little windows. Barbara mentioned, "Did you see how pretty that last one was?" Naturally, I had to walk back for a second look.  She smiled, started opening the door to welcome me in, and I quickly fled back to Barbara.

 

When we reached the other side of town, Barbara toured the Anne Frank House while I sat down and rested my back some. I've never seen a town where so many people rode bikes and walked. Amsterdam had a neat patchwork of canals, beautiful buildings and was very interesting, but the smell of pot filled the air and one side of it was just generally a sleazy place.

     Back at the hotel, Barb "mastered" the Internet. She always does, no matter what the language.

     We wandered on through Holland. We finally stopped at a grocery store, having to have help to even unlock the shopping cart. Everyone recycled everything there. A good thing. With a little help from an occasional English speaker, we stocked up. Late that afternoon, we finally located a B&B after several failures. A stressful day.

     The next day, we drove on into Germany and got on the Autobahn. We were a little shocked with the speed. I hung in the truck lane, and soon learned that if a car was in sight behind us in the fast lane, I didn't have time to pass before it was all over me.

     After entering Koblenz, we then managed to get directions to the Visitor's Center from a real, live, English speaking lady. She helped us out a lot in planning out our trip down the Rhine river Valley. We walked around a lot, with me still moving pretty slow. We negotiated the 53 steps up to our room, and dined on bread, peanut butter, and cake thingies.

     After a good breakfast at our motel, we found a laundromat. Everything we do is a challenge, but luckily, an English speaking lady helped us master the automated laundromat.

     Now, I know I have been running on a lot about how hard everything was to do, and it was hard. But in between frustrations, we were seeing a lot of great new places, and we were having fun. No, really, I mean it. I'm going to really make an effort to lay off some of the "It was just so hard" complaining, because we really were enjoying everything.

     Koblenz had a lot of beautiful buildings. I remember my Dad telling me a lot about his days in Koblenz, during the occupation immediately after WWI. He got to Germany aboard a very crowded troop ship, with no room to lay down. They slept sitting up.

     During our days in Koblenz, we would learn an occasional German word, and I was proud of mine. We also began to realize (I know I made a firm promise to not to whine any more, but I've just got to tell you this, then no more!) that Europe, at least this part, was set up for train travel, not car travel.  The trains were totally wonderful, totally quiet, and like riding on a cloud. All the inexpensive hotels were grouped around the train station, and there were no spaces to park a car within a mile, even if we could recognize one of the strange assortment of German words "hotels” were known by. But my back just ruled out train travel. I couldn't be moving that giant bag around.

     The next day, we headed down the Rhine River Valley. We moved down the Autobahn through an assortment of quaint small towns, past beautiful vineyards on the sloping hills, past many castles on the mountain tops.

     On arriving at Heidelberg, early in the afternoon, we drove around through that beautiful city for a while. We have never seen so many bicycles as we saw parked on the city center.

     The hotels seemed a little full, and a little pricy, so we moved on down. We started noticing that we saw one exit after another for Ausfarte. What a huge city Ausfarte must be. Only later did we realize that was the German word for exit.

     Coming upon another small town, we got off to look for a hotel. That turned out to be a really large city, and I got hung up in the middle of a "bus only" area. When the buses all stopped, the streets were filled with people like ants from an anthill. We worked our way out of that mess, finally, and seeing no hotels or anything that looked like it could be one, we went on south.

     It was getting late in the day, and we needed a place to lay our heads. The next small town advertised two hotels, so we got off. One was filled, another closed. So, we just wandered about, looking. Stopping at a likely prospect, it turned out to be a bar. But a child that had learned some English in school interpreted for his dad. The man said, "Follow me. I will lead you to a place to stay." He headed across town, we followed, and our young interpreter followed on his bicycle.

     The man stopped at a house, got out and talked to some people. They glanced at us, shook their head no, and he headed back to his car, just as the youngster arrived on his bicycle. "Follow me. I know another place." Well, the bicycler headed home, the leader sped up, and we lost him. Getting out by the Autobahn, we caught a glimpse of his car entering the Autobahn headed back north. Determined not to lose him this time, I sped up. When I got up to 110 MPH, he was still pulling away. Three exits back, I lost him, just as we decided we were following the wrong car anyway..       

     We turned back. When we exited again, it was close to dark. We wandered aimlessly. We had never had to sleep in our car, but it was beginning to look likely. Seeing the words "Zimmer Frei," we shouted with glee. One of the words for "A place to lay our head." Well, it was closed for the season, and darkness was upon us.

     A lady was just finishing up working in her yard, 3 doors down. Barbara put on her best friendly face, but the lady couldn't understand a thing she said. However, she headed down the street, motioning us to follow.

     Stopping at a house, 2 doors the other side of the Zimmer Frei, we began to realize it was her son's house. She talked to him, motioning to us, and we both put on our very best friendly, yet desperate and pitiful faces. Turned out, he owned the Zimmer Frei, and he could understand a few English words, if we talked real slow. He gave up on me, talking too fast, and turned to Barbara. He took us to the Zimmer Frei, explained they were closed for the season. But he let us in, told us to find us a room, fix our own supper, and lock up when we leave tomorrow. He charged a fair price, gave us the run of the place. Barbara's smile, her "stay clean and look good" mentality, and her gift with people had saved us again!