This weekend, our adventure continued as we finally mastered the fine art of taking the train. I say "finally" because we have tried and failed before. One Saturday before our car or furniture arrived, we walked a few blocks to the train station (a concrete platform with a ticket machine and a couple benches) and stared at the ticket machine which is, of course, all in Dutch.

We actually managed to press all the right buttons to get tickets to Valkenburg, a touristy old town nearby, until we got to the part where we had to pay. The machine supposedly takes coins and Dutch bank cards. However, when we tried feeding it our coins, it absolutely, positively refused to take them. Hmm. Ben has a bank card, but had no money on it at that point, so that didn't work either. So we sighed, turned around, and walked back home to sit and stare at the walls and watch Dutch television all day.

But, like I said, our train adventure this weekend was a success! Again we made it through all the button pushing of the crazy Dutch ticket machine, and were ready with our bankcard. We put it in, the machine whirred and clicked, and then it spit out the card, but no ticket. Hmmm. So we tried again. And again. No ticket. Finally we went through our pockets and scraped together just enough in coins to buy our tickets and fed them to the machine, which happily ate them and spit out our tickets. Apparently our machine is a little finicky. Some days it likes coins, some days it likes cards. I hope it never loses its appetite completely, because then we'll be stuck.

We settled on to a bench to wait for our train, and within a few minutes it pulled up. Yay! So we went to get on, but as we stood in front of the doors, they did not open. Hmmm. We looked at each other, looked at the doors, poked the doors, looked at each other. Hmmm. Luckily, before the train pulled away I noticed a button a couple feet to right of the door that was labeled "Deuren Openen". Aha! Openen! So I pushed it and sure enough, the doors opened and let us on. Thankfully, the train was pretty empty and we don't think anyone noticed the two dumb Americans standing on the platform poking the doors and looking around confusedly. After that we found some seats and made it to Valkenburg without any further mishaps. Success!



Valkenburg was very nice, and probably would have been even better if it had not been very cold and a little rainy. It's a very touristy town because A) It's very old and pretty, B) It has caves and stuff, and C) It has ruins of a castle that was built around 1100, and destroyed at some point since then. Very cool.

Since it was Sunday, only about half the stores were open and it wasn't very busy or crowded so we just wandered up and down the streets, took some pictures, and looked at shops that sold things like postcards and wooden shoes. Finally, on our way back to the train station, we stopped at a little bakery and bought some apple turnovers and cookies. Mmmm. They were delicious.





The photos make it look warmer than it really was; we were getting pretty damp and frosty by the time we got on the train to go home. We definitely want to go back to Valkenburg and explore the castle ruins, but maybe when it's sunny, or at least not quite so chilly.

This sign is next to the school. And we've seen it a few other places, too. We'll let you figure it out.

Whew, it's been busy around here lately. Last week our car arrived safely in the Netherlands, so on the weekend we took advantage of it and did a little bit of adventuring. First, on Saturday we drove to Tongeren, Belgium. Tongeren is the oldest town in Belgium, has a big basilica, and has an antique market each weekend where we were told we could maybe find a nice bed. A friend told us that the market is on Saturday morning from 7 until 1, however, when we arrived we discovered that the market is on Sunday morning instead. Oops. So no furniture was purchased, but we did get to walk around a lovely Belgian town and take a few pictures. First, the one angle of the basilica that doesn't show any construction:


Then, across from the church, was...


Who knew Ben had a cafe in some old Belgian town? Not us.


On Sunday, we woke up to sunny skies so we quickly whispered to each other (lest the sun hear us and change its mind) and decided to head to the American WWII cemetery at Margraten, Netherlands. We both have great uncles buried there and were very interested in going to see it. Margraten is just a short drive from our house, but by the time we got there it had, of course, gotten cloudy and much colder than it had been when we left the house. But it wasn't raining yet, so we considered it still good weather and spent a little while walking around the cemetery.

There are 8,301 American soldiers buried at Margraten and many, many more in cemeteries throughout Europe. I don't think I grasped exactly how many men, real people with family and friends and lives outside of the military, died for our country in WWII until I visited the two graves and saw the thousands of white crosses surrounding them in a rural area of the Netherlands and realized that it was just a small fraction of the white crosses that are spread across Europe. It was really a humbling experience.




In other news, our household goods were delivered on Monday. Yay! We have boxes and boxes all over the house. Today I finished unpacking an organizing the kitchen which is, of course, the most important room of the house. Now we only have 3,384,297 boxes left to unpack. I hope to have it all done by next week. If we don't update the blog, it's because we're lying buried somewhere beneath packing paper and cardboard boxes.

And with that, back to work. But I'll leave you with one of my favorite parts of the Netherlands so far...


The fuzzy ponies. The world may be moving so fast, but the fuzzy ponies don't care. How can you not love them?

New Year's in Nederland

We didn't really have anything planned for New Year's Eve. We figured we'd sit around, drink some champagne, go to bed. We had heard that people here go crazy with fireworks since it is the only time they're allowed to set them off, and that a lot of people go outside at midnight to set them off and watch the neighbors fireworks. Whatever, we thought.

Then we happened to meet some American neighbors who invited us over New Year's Eve, so we went and ate drank and were merry. And then, it was quarter to twelve. Our neighbor handed out 12 grapes to each person, to be eaten 1 per second at midnight while making 12 wishes for the new year. We all took our handfuls of grapes and went outside to see the neighbors fireworks.

And you should have seen these fireworks! It was like the 4th of July! In every direction! It was absolutely amazing, and we stood there in awe of all the bright exlpoding colors until someone yelled "10 seconds!" and started counting down. And with all of us standing there stupefied by the fireworks, we had forgotten about our handfuls of grapes. So Ben and I stuffed them all in our mouths as quickly as possible, raised our glasses to the New Year, and gave each other a very grapey New Year's kiss.

We stood outside and watched fireworks for a long long time. It was cold and rainy, but these Nederlanders just don't seem to care, and the fireworks went on and on. We can't even tell you how incredible it was to watch. We hadn't yet been charmed by the all the rain and cold and dog poop on the sidewalk in the Netherlands, but this was definitely cooler than any New Year's Eve in the states. We can't wait until next year.

Every Saturday, there is a market in our town. Vendors come and set up shop to sell everything from produce to sweaters to meats to dog bones. It's a lot like a farmer's market in the U.S., but with socks or toiletries thrown in just for fun. Last week, we walked down to the market and wandered around, just looking at everything. We kind of wanted to buy things, but with all the noise and crowds and unfamiliar language it was just a little bit overwhelming. So last week we just went and saw.

This week we conquered the market. Well, "conquered" is kind of a strong word. We went and wandered around nervously again, but this time when I saw some oranges that looked pretty, I nudged Ben and said, "Hey, buy me some oranges". And with a little whispered consultation and some pointing and smiling (and a couple euros), we walked away happily with a big bag of fruit. After that, it seemed much less overwhelming and we returned to our house victoriously swinging a couple bags of produce and waving a bouquet of tulips.



Sorry we don't have a picture of the actual market. I opted not to bring out the camera because we were trying to be cool and not act like crazy Americans who haven't seen fresh vegetables before. You'll just have to trust that we didn't buy that stuff at the grocery store.

This weekend, on a rare sunny day, we also went out for a drive to explore the Dutch countryside. We just wanted to see what was around us and maybe take some pictures since, for once, it wasn't rainy, foggy, and cold. So we drove here and there and finally ended up in Maastricht where we decided maybe it was time to go home because it was getting dark. So no pictures of Maastricht this time, but we do have for you some nice pictures of scenic views from the car:




Merry Christmas!

Real Adventuring

Today we adventured out of the Netherlands. Oh yes, the traveling begins.

Okay, okay, so maybe we only "traveled" 20 minutes, but we did go to Germany to wander around a Christmas Market. A Christmas Market is pretty much what it sounds like... There are booths with crafts and foods, Christmas lights and decorations. We just walked around a bit, bought some gingerbread and potato pancakes and then called it a day because it was cold and drizzly and we kept bumping into other people with umbrellas. It was very pretty, though, and a fun thing to do.



And, to Ben's delight, there was a Starbucks right by the market so we stopped for something warm to drink on our way back to the car.



I could not for the life of me take a picture of Starbucks Ben that was not blurry and glowy. I'm pretty sure that Ben was just so happy to have Starbucks that the camera captured him glowing with joy. Cheers!

Welkom!

Yes, I have arrived.

On Wednesday morning, my parents, the doggies and I all headed to the airport where, with much whimpering and confusion, we managed to get me and dogs checked in. Bella and Spud didn't particularly enjoy being in their crates on a luggage cart, but since they don’t know how to work the latch on the crate, their votes don’t count, and off they went with the friendly baggage handler lady.

The flight to Chicago was nice and short, and once I got there I wandered mere feet and found myself at my next gate. It looked like a third world country. Too many people, too little room, confusion, languages I couldn’t understand....Ben had said his flight was nice and empty and mine would probably be the same. Nope, apparently not. As I was contemplating forcing my way through the crowd to ask one of the gate agents to check on the dogs location, a baby girl on a leash pulled her father through the crowd in front of me. He looked tired and fed up, but had an expression on his face that said "Oh well, she wants to run around like crazy. I guess I just have to follow." Then his son came up to join them, making his carry-on gallop in his wake. Yes, he was even talking to it like it was a rowdy pony. As the little girl decided to climb on another passengers suitcase and the father looked on with his "Oh well, what can I do?" expression, the mother came and joined them with a look of perpetual annoyance on her face. They looked like one big bucket of fun.

A few minutes later I was able to board the plane, and after I got settled in me seat I watched what seemed like hundreds of people file on after me. After the plane had almost completely filled up, I still had two empty seats right next to me and I looked up to see people coming straight for them. And who were these people ? Oh yes, it was the family with leash girl and pony boy, and they came and set the baby's carseat right next to me. Goody. I tried not to glare as the girl started climbing over the back of her seat, tried to escape down the aisle, and then yelled and kicked the seat in front of her. Honestly, I tried to be understanding toward the parents, but when the flight attendant came and said with a wink, "I have an empty seat up there, would you like to move? I think everybody might be more comfortable, yes?", I picked up my bag and tried to contain my joy as I moved to a much less stressful area of the plane.

The rest of the flight was uneventful. Once I arrived in Brussels, went through customs, and collected my bags and the dogs, I did run into a teeny tiny little problem when I found that Ben was not there waiting for me. So I waited, and waited, and got a little worried, but he finally showed up (the delay was due to incredibly awful traffic), and we piled into our shuttle and went home, where I promptly climbed into bed for a nap.

So now we're all here. The dogs were not permanently scarred from their travel experience. And I wasn't either, for that matter. So now the "real" adventure begins as we learn to dodge dog poop on the sidewalk and figure out the crazy Dutch language and try as many different forms of fried potatoes as we can find.