This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.

  I think I have gushed in this blog several times about how much I love all things English; tea, t.v., literature, drama, actors, landscape, architecture, history- pass it all my way. Well we just returned from an Anglophile's dream vacation- a 10-day driving tour of Shakespeare's "demi-paradise". Unfortunately I found the country of my dreams to be very close to reality, allowing my infatuation to hit swooning level. Oh England! I know "My county tis of thee" is a knock off of "God save the Queen" but I don't know the lyrics to that one...anyways..of thee I sing!
  The trip we planned was probably not the best for the kids (but at this point their idea of a dream vacation is to stay home and do the same things that we always do with a sprinkling of treats and presents). The plan was to tour something in the morning and then, in the afternoon, drive to a new location while the boys nap in the car. I guess it has been too long for Klaus to remember spending significant time in the car and he was less than amicable to the idea. So, while we forced him to go through with the plan, he agreed to only sleep for forty minutes and then cry for the rest of it. Deal.

We saw Stonehenge, Dartmoor, Tintagel, Bath, Oxford, Warwick, York, and London. The trip was too long to cover in one post so I will break it into three. We will start with Stonehenge, Dartmoor, and Tintagel.
 Kurt and I formulated the trip itinerary more or less on the advice of travel writer, Rick Steves ("My buddy, Rick" as a fellow hosteler in Gimmelwald called him) although we disagreed with him totally on our first stop, Stonehenge. Steves recommends Avebury, another prehistoric site, that does not draw stifling crowds of tourists and where you can actually walk up and touch the stones (Stonehenge is roped off and you can't get right up to it anymore.) I still really wanted to see Stonehenge and so I overrode Steves on this and I could not be happier that I did. As impressive as the site and its construction sounds in books and film, it is staggering in person. The sarsens are so much bigger than one would consider movable objects which makes the sheer audacity of these ancient Britians so endearing.
 After stopping at Stonehenge we had a disgustingly eventful drive to Dartmoor. Let me back up a little. We flew into London's Southend airport. The airport is nicely situated far from London traffic and is cheaper to fly to than Heathrow. We had a rental car reservation set-up complete with car seats. The reservation was a bit cryptic about the car seat rental fees but we figured it couldn't be too much. Normally the things are old, dirty and barely safe. So we were a bit shocked when the car rental guy said that it would be 10 pounds a day per car seat- we were planning to use them for 9 days so 180 pounds or $289 dollars- just to rent them! We balked at the cost and the guy, who was actually pretty sympathetic, suggested that we go to a store around the corner to see if we could pick up seats for cheaper. Turned out to be a great suggestion- we got two decent seats for 68 pounds. We had no plan for getting rid of them at the end of the trip but it was still the obvious choice.

Anyway- on with the story. Klaus hadn't eaten a very good breakfast but I chalked it up to all the excitement over the plane ride. When we stopped for lunch I tried to force a few bites down his throat but he was having none of it. Klaus is normally a pretty good eater so I should have been more concerned. I guess I was a bit preoccupied with Leif who was throwing a fit about eating his own lunch ( a burger and fries- what is wrong with this kid? At his age I would have inhaled it!) so when Klaus vomited all over the parking lot it came as a bit of a shock. Luckily we were not in the car yet but it did get on our clothes. We cleaned up the best we could and drove to Stonehenge. Klaus seemed fine as he toddled around the grassy plane of the neolithic site and I didn't think anymore of it. But when we got back in the car to drive to our B&B, 2 hours away, he began to fuss and cry. It got so bad that we had to stop the car. Just as I was about to get him out of the seat he threw up all over himself, me, and the brand new car seat. I used up nearly all our baby wipes cleaning him up by the side of the road. For the rest of the ride I sat wedged between the two car seats, smelling of vomit and rubbing my son's head to help him settle. Luckily our B&B, Yarrow Lodge in Bovey Tracey, was run by the sweetest couple, Hanneke (who is from the Netherlands) and Phil, who helped us get cleaned up, made us tea and dinner, and sent us happily to cozy beds.
 

The next day we embarked on a driving tour of Dartmoor National Park as recommended by Rick Steves. We traveled narrow roads lined by stone walls hidden beneath scraggly hedges (at one point we got stopped by a few cows on the road) and passed though adorable villages composed of only a handful of thatched roofed houses. We drove up and down the sheep dotted moors and marvelled at the green purple and gold landscape. We made stops at Haytor, Post Bridge, and Scorhill Stone Circle.
 

Top of Haytor

Haytor is natural granite deposit that pokes out of the top of one of the moors and offers a great view of the surrounding countryside. We hiked up to the top but unfortunately our view was blocked by the fog. The wind was intense so we tried to find shelter on the leeward side only to stumble across a herd of wild horses who had the same idea. We decided to leave them to it and skipped down the hill back into the car.

Klaus at Scorhill

We ate lunch at the East Dart Inn in Post Bridge after checking out the two bridges in town, one of which dates from the middle ages. After that we coaxed the boys back into the car and drove to Scorhill, another neolithic stone circle. The rocks are not nearly as large as the ones at Stonehenge but the mystery of the place is just as intriguing. The ring sits down in a vast valley with no sign of human habitation in sight. We were the only ones there at the time which made it even more solitary and tranquil. Leif and Klaus enjoyed tumbling off of one of the fallen stones while Kurt and I made wild speculations about the purpose of the site.
 After that we drove to the Cornishman Inn in Tintagel. Despite the driving wind the boys and I enjoyed the Inn's playground while Kurt rounded up some dinner. The innkeeper put us in a room far from the bar where a band was to provide the night's entertainment. We didn't hear a thing and we all slept well.
 

In the morning we toured the ruins that lent the town its name. Tintagel (pronounced Tind-ta-jel) according to folklore, was the home of King Arthur. There are layers of ruins on the site that span the dark ages to the 19th century. The peninsula is rocky and steep and offers a great view of the Cornish coast. One can walk all around it and even though it via a cave ("Merlin's Cave") hollowed out by the sea. The boys could not climb the uneven, often slippery, stairs of the site so Kurt and I certainly got a workout carrying them but we had a good time exploring. Later Kurt said that if there was one thing he had to cut it would have been Tintagel but I disagreed. True its connection to King Arthur and even the existence of a King Arthur is up for debate but I still thought it was a great look at England's past, which is charmingly a mixture of fact and fiction.

In-laws and In Bruge

 Warning! This is a looooong post.

As you may remember from my previous post, my in-laws were scheduled to visit the day after our friend Janel left. They arrived according to plan and, just like Lars and Sam, they hit the ground running. Kurt took them downtown for a small tour and some drinks at Annie's (one of the boat bars near the markt). They boys and I met up with them after nap and we took them up to the Burcht before heading home for a dinner of Indonesian take-out.
  The weather for the next day was predicted to be gorgeous so we rented a boat in the morning and went on a canal tour. The sky was crystal blue without a hint of humidity. We puttered around the lakes and canals until it was time to get the boys home for nap. While the kids and I slept Kurt,Dale, and Erik went to a few of the old churches and the antiquities museum. That evening my in-laws graciously ate Hendos take-out while we went out for another anniversary date.
   On Saturday we took Dale and Erik to the market so that they could experience its atmosphere and sample some of it's tasty treats. Erik was easily convinced to try the raw herring and onions although Dale abstained.
   Dale had accidentally made their rental car reservation for a day earlier than was needed so she and Erik had to pick it up on Sunday morning. Kurt really wanted his parents to see the dunes so we agreed to bike there and have them drive to meet us there after they picked up the car. Once again the weather was fantastic with clear blue skies. The sun is getting lower and lower in the sky so its rays always seem to be at a glorious angle that makes everything look golden. We meet at the Meyendel boerderij, a small "petting(?) farm" with a visitors center that dispenses information about the dunes. From there we hiked to the beach and had a picnic lunch on the silky sand. No matter how careful you try to be if you have a picnic on the beach you have to accept the fact that you will ingest a certain amount of sand. After lunch the Andresen-Buehrers headed home while the Andresen-Lindens drove around Den Haag.
 When we met up again later that evening we went to a restaurant that Kurt and I have been eyeing for sometime because of its outdoor seating area that you can drive your boat up to. Appropriately enough it is called Doc 2. We enjoyed drinks and bruschetta out on the dock and then went inside for dinner as the sun set. I don't remember what the others had but I had mushrooms in cream sauce on toast. Heel lekker!

The next day we all set off for Bruges, Belgium. If you have never heard of Bruges and you don't mind a bit of onscreen violence, rent the movie In Bruges and you will get a good eyeful of the town. Bruges was an economic center in Flanders (now Belgium) in the 15th and 16th centuries so the town is full of opulent churches and state buildings. Somewhere in the 1600s the canal, which provided their access to the sea, silted up and choked off the city's economic life-blood. Thus the town is one of the most perfectly preserved medieval cities in Europe. It is getting a bit touristy but it is so much fun to visit that you can't pass it up. This was actually the second time that Kurt and I have gone. We visited there on at 2009 backpacking trip. We did not have kids at the time but we were also living on post-doc/admin salaries so the trip was a bit austere and we did not get to do everything one can do in Bruges. So when Dale and Erik mentioned that they might like to see it we offered to go along.

 We found a great 17th century house to rent called De Hoedenmaker (The Hat Maker) that was only a 10 minute walk to the town center. It had three rooms, two bathrooms, a kitchen, and a quaint little garden. We all fit in there comfortably and it was much cheaper and nicer than getting two hotel rooms. Plus they had a dvd copy of In Bruges! We made Dale and Erik watch it the first night we were there and it is probably the first movie that we have recommended to them that they actually liked.
  Since the boys had napped in the car on the way down we were able to spend a good potion of the afternoon sightseeing. At first, we tried in vain to find a Flemish restaurant that they owner of De Hoedenmaker recommended. We were all a bit hungry and grumpy which made the search for the place that much more miserable. Finally we gave up and ate at the next cafe that we came upon. After that, as requested by Dale, we headed to Chocolate Row, a street lined with chocolate shops. If Leif had any sort of fat on him I'm sure he would have had a heart-attack from his excitement. We walked in and out of the shops buying any truffles that caught our fancy.

  After our chocolate binge we waddled back to the town square and jumped aboard one of the waiting buggies for a charming horse-drawn tour around town. Our tour guide was a sweetest Belgian girl you will ever meet (unfortunately I can't remember her name) with a great delivery and a straw hat. Although the tour was only 30 minutes it was good time and gave us a few ideas of what to visit the next day.
  After a mildly successful night's sleep, we headed to the Groeninge Museum. In 2009 Kurt and I opted for the Hospital Museum over this one in order to see Memling's Mystic Marriage of St Catherine alter piece. It was a tough decision because the Groeninge houses Van Eyke's The Madonna with Canon van der Paele with its eye popping brocaded velvets and palpable metalwork. Luckily we were now in Bruges again! I'm not sure that anyone else enjoyed the museum but I drooled enough for all of us. Oh Van Eyke! I love you!
  The Groeninge is pretty small so we had time to climb the 366 stairs of the Belfort before lunch. As well as a great view of the city, tourists get to see the inner workings of the bell towers bells and have the stability of their ear drums tested by its 47 bells. Neither Leif nor Klaus were big fans of the actual bells but they seemed to like the view and incredibly narrow staircase.

That afternoon, while the boys napped, Dale and I toured the Basilica of the Holy Blood. A tourist attraction even in its own time, this small ornate basilica houses a relic that is believed to be the blood of Christ, brought back from the crusades by a Flemish count. Unfortunately the relic was not on display when we visited but we enjoyed the intense opulence of the place.
  Before dinner we had time for a quick canal tour. Kurt and I were worried that it would be a bit redundant seeing as we already had the perfect tour by carriage the day before. But, once again, the tour guide was charming and the weather was beautiful. The boat was full of other happy tourists and we all chuckled together and admired the time traveling effect of Bruges.
  For dinner we carried our high chair the 30 feet from the rental to a restuarant called Tom's Diner. The name is somewhat misleading to an American audience (entrees started at 16 Euro and don't include hamburgers or fries) but we had read the menu outside before going in so we knew what we were getting into. Our table was in its own tiny cubby separated from the larger dining area by a curtain and overlooking the downstairs portion of the restaurant. The candel lit atmosphere was cozy and the food with its artistic presentation was great.

In the morning we bid farwell to my in-laws as they set out for the rest of their European tour. Before heading back to Leiden, we thought we would check out some of Bruges  fine old churches. Unfortunately the Church of Our Lady, which houses a Michalangelo original, was closed for repairs until November.  Saint Salvator's catherdral was open, however, and so we were not totally thwarted in out tourism efforts. Unlike in the Netherlands, these churches are still Catholic and have maintained much of their intense decoration. A feast for the eyes.
   At home in Leiden, we were greated by the beginnings of the 3 October Festival. This festival commemorates the unsuccessful siege of Lieden by the Spanish in the 1570s. I'm just going to come out and say it: I was hugely dissapointed with the whole thing. I was expecting something a little more old worldly; I had read about how the town hall still gives out herring and white bread to the people of Leiden as it had done after the siege. And about the hutspot (carrot/potato mash) that the towns people found in the Spanish camps after they had left. From the tour book descriptions I had expected a Renaissance fair style celebration. But 3 October is really just a huge version of the Gettysburg fireman's carnival. There is no history left in it. It is all about over priced rides and games and terrible/delicious fried foods. Oh Europe can't you see we only love you for idealized versions of your past? Why do you have to gravitate towards silly commercial stuff just like we do at home?

We hebben het heel druk

Whew! We have had a crazy couple of weeks. In quick succession we were visited by Gena and Tim, our friend Janel, and Kurt's parents. Plus this week is '3 October', a huge festival commemorating the 1574 siege of Leiden by the Spanish. To prevent the loss of your attention before you reach the end of one long post I am going to split this update into two posts.
On Friday September 20th 9:30 am, my big sis and her hubby glided into Schiphol Airport and the boys and I went to meet them at the train station. I had estimated that they would get to Leiden at about 10:15 but I totally forgot to account for the fact that they would have to go through customs once they got in. So the boys and I enjoyed an hour of people watching and croissant nibbling at the train station. Which only made it all the sweeter when our eyes finally landed on two familiar faces; Gena and Tim made it safely with all their luggage (as opposed to the Spanish honeymoon where their luggage caught up with them about a week later).
 After lunch and nap we took them into the city to see the Burcht (the old citadel) as we have done with everyone who has visited us. Kurt, who had been on an outting with his lab colleagues, joined us for a dinner of homemade Indonesian food and together we mapped out our adventure for Saturday. Kurt highly recommended a trip to the sand dunes (the same trip he had done that day) but I wanted to take them to see Teylingen castle which we had learned about from Open Monument Weekend. So we compromised: We did both.

Gena and Tim on the dune trail

Teylingen

In the morning Gena and Tim rented bikes, we packed some food and water, and set out on an hour long ride to the sand dunes beyond Wassenaar. The dunes were made from centuries of sand blown in by the North Sea winds. They are vegetated with scrub brush and short trees and are, in a word, amazing. The government has marked these dunes for preservation and has crisscrossed them with horse and bike trails. We stopped for a seaside picnic lunch at De Gouden Bal which kindly had a swing set for Leif and Klaus to climb around before we tossed them back in the trailer for another hour ride to the castle. The boys took a nap as we pedaled through towns and fields until finally off in the distance we spotted the red brick tower of Teylingen. This 13th century castle ruin, while roofless, still has a complete circular castle wall and a water filled moat. At the time we visited, there just happened to be a group of archers practicing in the grassy inner courtyard. The twang and swish of the bow and arrows added to the medieval ambiance of the place. We walked around the tower ruins and then sat in the grass and watched the archers while snacking on leftover picnic food. The castle staff seemed very pleased that we had made the effort to visit. And so were we. It was a very idyllic afternoon.    In all we pedaled 30 miles that day. For most of it Gena had a hard time keeping up with the rest of us. She figured it was just because she did not bike as often as Tim, Kurt and I.  But, when we got home, we discovered that the back tire on her bike was flat, so actually she had been working twice as hard as the rest of us. Poor Gene's bad luck follows her ever to Europe. Sorry, Suess!

Stadsmolen

  Sunday just happened to be Molen Dag (Windmill Day) in Leiden. Leiden has 9 existing windmills but not all of them are open to the public on a regular basis. Since Gena and Tim still had their bike rentals we hopped on our bikes, estimating that we could hit three windmills before nap time. The first one we hit was the 1856 Stadsmolen, an adorable brick based windmill near our house in a sadly rather commercial area. This is what is know as a poldermolen which means that it is used to pump water to the right place. These windmills were essential to the Dutch fight to claim their land from the sea. They were used to pump water into canals so that the land could be dried out and used for farming. Amazingly we were allowed to go up into the molen while it was working and see all the wooden gears turning with the wind. There is a cute living space on the ground floor with a small fireplace. It was very quaint and very dutch.
 

Then we headed over to the largest windmill in Leiden, Molen De Valk. This was and still is a flour mill on the edge of the city's outter canal. There used to be windmills lining the entire canal but now only this one and one that was rebuild in the 80s are all that remain. A three story living space where the mill owner's family lived creates the bottom part of the windmill. Above that is five levels of mill workings, giving the whole windmill a towering height. Leif and Klaus were getting a bit sleepy and petulant as we reached the top floors so we took a few quick pictures of the city view and then headed home for lunch.
  When we got the boys down for nap, Tim, Gena, and I went back out to the last windmill, Molen de Put. This mill is the 1980s replica of a mill that was built in 1619. It is located just across the canal from the spot where Rembrant was born. He was sure to have seen the construction of the original in his lifetime. To get inside one has to climb a ladder-like staircase. Since it was later in the day the crowds had grown, adding to the challenge of seeing the mill. We saw the inside but did not linger too long.
 

When the boys woke up we rented a boat and did a canal tour. Unfortunately the weather had turned a bit rainy. We had to return the boat before sunset. The thick clouds pushed sunset up to about 7 so we didn't get a chance to take the boat out to the lakes. We puttered about the canals in town and munched on bread and cheese, olives and beer.
  On Monday, we (minus Kurt who had to go back to work) hopped a train to Delft. We headed straight to the crooked tower of Oude Kerk where Leif and Klaus engaged in their favorite old-church activity: prancing over the uneven stone floors. To set the tone, the church was playing some organ music over a few scattered speakers. During one particularly melancholy song, Leif turned to me and said "I'm happy. I'm happy." before bursting into tears. This occasionally happens with Leif and sad music and he is a bit inconsolable until the song ends. I'm not sure that Gena and Tim really got their fill of the church but they graciously went with us to get some lunch in the square where there was no sad music. After lunch we toured Niewe Kerk and then the boys and I headed home for nap. Gena and Tim came home later that afternoon and we all had dinner together.
 When we got the boys to bed, my sweet sister and her husband sent Kurt and I out for drinks and dessert to celebrate our anniversary. I almost fooled the waitress into thinking I spoke Dutch until she asked if we wanted an extra spoon for the creme brule. Rats! Fail!
 

On Tuesday morning we took Gena and Tim to the Museum Boerhaave, the science and medicine museum. Gene enjoyed seeing the old medical equipment and the boys again enjoyed the Christian Huygens exhibit. After lunch we sadly bid farwell to our guests and sent them off to Amsterdam and beyond.
  To come down off the high of our visit with Tim and Gena, we fortunately had a short visit with our friend Janel from Colgate. When the conference she had been attending in Amsterdam ended, she took the train to Leiden and hung out with us for an evening. We made her dinner and took her to the Burcht. It had been quite a while since we had seen Janel last so we had a lot to chat about. The boys loved her instantly and there were some misty eyes when we walked her to the train station in the morning.

  Whew! Stay tuned for the second half of our busy fantastic 2 weeks of visitors!...