Monday, July 18, 2011

Visitors, Take Six

This past week, we welcomed our sixth and final round of company to our home in Utrecht. Our friends E and B arrived at Eindhoven Airport on Tuesday morning at 8:00AM. Since I planned to pick them up, I checked train schedules a week before but decided to confirm the schedule on Monday evening. To my surprise, I found out the train I was planning on taking wasn't running due to construction on the tracks. An alternate route was available using the NS (train company) bus to reach a connecting station, but it meant the trip would take almost an hour longer than normal.

Construction in Utrecht (not the cause of delays... this time)

Once I saw my friends, however, the trip, including the extra time and transfers seemed worth it. On the way back (we didn't have to take the NS bus, but the train did run an alternate -- i.e. longer -- route), E and I chatted while B caught up on his sleep. Whenever he'd open an eye mid-nap, he'd find us giggling. It's amazing how easily friends fall back into their old patterns when reunited.

Back in Utrecht, E decided that she too could benefit from a quick nap, and she and B lay down, while I ran back up to the center of town to pick up my bicycle, which I had left at the train station early in the morning.

About an hour later, our guests were rested enough to continue with their day. We started with lunch at Broodnodig, where E and B learned that the locals eat sandwiches (broodjes) with a fork and knife. This is a harder task to master than you might imagine, as the bread often has a tough crust and slides back and forth with each slice of the knife. Soon, B gave up and picked up his sandwich like a proper American.

After we finished eating, Mr. Traveler (who worked from home so he could tag along for lunch and spend more time with our company) wanted to swing by the wine shop. Since the shop is past Wilhelmina Park (one of my favorite sunny day spots), we tagged along so E and B could see more of the area.

Afterward, Mr. Traveler went home and the rest of us walked to the Domkerk, Utrecht's claim to fame. Although I've been to the Domkerk several times, I find that walking through the old church and its courtyard never gets old. I always notice something new, whether in the form of artwork temporarily displayed in the church or a small detail in the church itself. This time, it was the change in the garden that caught my eye.

Winter (Empty Branches, Short Plants)

Spring (Leaves, Tall Plants)
When we left the church, it was almost 5pm, so we didn't have enough time to climb the tower. Instead, we walked towards the Oudegracht, so B could get a better picture of the Domtoren, which is just about impossible to photograph up close.

On the way back home, we stopped in a few stores and grabbed a cup of coffee to keep us going. When we got home, we found that Mr. Traveler had stopped by the cheese shop and picked up a pre-dinner snack to enjoy with our wine. He'd also made a dinner reservation at Buurten (our neighborhood restaurant) for a little later that evening.

Over dinner, we filled each other in on our latest news and plans. It was so nice just to sit down to dinner with friends. Each time we've had company, I've felt like they brought with them a little piece of home, making the distance seem a little less far.

As we returned from dinner, rain started to fall lightly from the sky. Mr. Traveler and I commented that we often get steady, but light rain and hardly ever downpours. The sky must have overheard us and wanted to prove what it was capable of, because later that night we had some of the heaviest rain since we arrived, and it didn't stop completely for days.

The rain made our adventure into Amsterdam the following day a little more dreary than I would have liked. (Amsterdam is just such a picturesque city when the sun is shining.) In fact, when we got off the train, it seemed quite a bit cooler and we had to stop at H&M to grab an extra jacket for E before continuing. Luckily, I had on my rain jacket which helped block some of the chilling wind.

Our first planned stop for the day was the Anne Frank House. From both the guide books and experience, I was aware that the lines can get quite long, but I hoped that the rain might keep some of the less resilient tourists in their hotel rooms. Unfortunately, the lines were the longest that I've ever seen them, and E and B quickly decided a look at the front of the house would be enough to satisfy their curiosity.

Next up, we headed to the Van Gogh Museum. I'd already been a couple times (here and here), so I kind of hung back while E and B explored the exhibits. B isn't much of a museum goer, though, so we didn't make it through the entire (very large) museum before everyone decided it was time to eat.

We opted for waffles (with ice cream, cherries, and chocolate) at a stand in the park between the Van Gogh and the Rijksmuseum after I insisted that they were one of the best things I'd ever eaten. Even after the hype, I don't think anyone felt let down by sugary treat (although B might have hoped for a slightly larger lunch.)


Waffle!!

After lunch (if you can call a waffle and ice cream lunch), we still had one more museum to visit. We found our way across town to the Dutch Resistance Museum, a museum dedicated to the resistance movement against the Nazis during WWII. Resistance came from both organized movements and from the actions of private individuals, and the museum addressed the various types of resistance during the war. I found the museum to be very informative and well put together. The displays provided just the right amount of information to keep my attention, and I found myself wanting to know more about resistance efforts. While so many aspects of the Second World War seem to force us to question our faith in humanity, recognizing the acts of resistance helps us realize that there are genuinely good people who are willing to risk their own lives to help others in need. The Resistance Museum praises these efforts and encourages visitors to speak up against injustice so the atrocities of the Holocaust are not repeated.

I expected to feel sad after the Resistance Museum, as I had felt when visiting the Anne Frank House a few months ago. In some ways I did feel a bit melancholy, but more than anything, I found myself inspired by the individuals and groups who were not willing to stand by as their friends and neighbors were taken from their homes to face (at the time) unknown fates. I found, however, that this experience was very personal, and after leaving the museum, I felt as though I had to temporarily distance myself from these feelings and explore them later, so that they didn't become a distraction for the rest of the day.

After the museum, we headed back towards to the train station, with the goal of detouring through the Red Light District, which seems to be on almost every visitor's must see list. Walking through the area, whether with friends, family, or even a significant other, is always an awkward experience. It's interesting to note, however, that besides workers, the area is filled predominately with foreigners. The Dutch, who live in a country where prostitution is legal and soft drug use is tolerated, are much less interested in partaking in these excesses than those who live in countries where prostitution and marijuana are outlawed (i.e. Americans).

Finally, we made one final stop before getting back on the train to order some frites in a cone, a Dutch specialty that E didn't want to miss.
Frites (Don't worry, we shared!)
Back in Utrecht, the rain was still pouring, which gave us the advantage of having Mr. Traveler tag along for dinner (since normally Wednesday nights are reserved for baseball practice). We ate at Havana, a restaurant that passes itself off as Cuban, but has everything from fajitas to salmon to cheese fries.

When we got back to our place, we agreed to go to sleep early since E and B had to catch a train before 6AM. However, it seemed like we kept thinking of things to tell each other, and it was hard to force ourselves to say goodnight.

In the morning, I woke up at 4:30 and pulled on a sweatshirt over the outfit I'd worn the previous day. Since the buses didn't start running for an hour, I walked E and B to the train station. We got there in plenty of time for them to catch the 5:41 train to s'Hertogenbosh (where they needed to make a connection to Eindhoven).

As I walked home from dropping them off, it was raining pretty steadily and by the time I walked through the door, my shoes and sweatshirt were both completely soaked. I hung my wet clothes over the railing by the stairs and crawled back in bed, thankful that I could get an extra few hours of sleep.

It was great to see our friends (and to have a little bit of company outside of the deluge we had earlier in the spring). It seemed like we didn't have near enough time to spend with them, though, as they arrived on Tuesday and left just two days later. However, it was a little easier watching them go, knowing we will see them next month when we return to Texas.

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