from Paris to Amsterdam, Schiedam, Bruges, and back

Since I left off in Paris at the Hotel Invalides (I think it's called), everyone but my mom and I have gone back towards home. Within this timeframe, 16 days, about two weeks, I've been to see the Eiffle Tower (up close), the Musee' d'Orsay, the Louvre Pyramid (not the museum yet though), the Moulin Rouge, and lots of other things I vaguely recognized from various movies and pictures. Very exciting. Also, when everyone was still around we took a river cruise on the Seine, which was great except for the masses of high school age exchange students that were shouting soccer cheers at the top of their lungs the whole time. Or maybe it was better because of them... Anyway, we met a nice Canadian family who sympathized with our exasperated sighs and chatted with us (or maybe just me) about the differences in educational systems throughout North America. Very informative. The whole thing took place at night, probably around nine, so everything was lit up and the darkness made the buildings absolutely gorgeous. Or fabulous, if it's Brit time. Maybe it should be, as we'll be heading over to the great Isle in about a week. Or less, hopefully. I know no one out there actually understands my strange desire to go home, but I must assure you that I do realize how precious a learning experience this is, how I might regret leaving later, blah blah blah. Don't think I don't know how great this is. I just really need too see my cat. Eheh. Actually, it's more than that, but as I said, you don't really understand. So then. After a few days of being flexible, getting some shopping done, and eating lots of Chevre', Debra caught her plane back home, and Duane, my parents, and I all took a speedy train (I don't remember what they're actually called) up to Amsterdam. Upon arrival at the Centraal Station (no typo, there are really supposed to be two a's) we promptly blundered our way to the canal boat on which we were planning on residing. Or, as my mom usually puts it- much to my annoyance-  our house. I can never get her to stop saying it, and for some inane reason her phrasing really annoys me. It's like she doesn't understand that we'll only be there for three days and insists on acting as though we really live there. I know it's harmless and I really have no reason to get upset over this, but I've pretty much given up on trying to forget and accept by this point. I forget how many times I've been reprimanded and accept that I'll just get over it when we get home. Anyhoos, The boat was all that we could have hoped for, decked out like a perfect two bedroom apartment, complete with sun room with removable roof, full size kitchen, and a separate living room. Two bathrooms too! Or I suppose I should say head.. We had a lot of fun in there for a few days while we were in the great city visiting the Van Gogh museum, the Anne Frank House, a great  flea market selling cannibis pops at pretty much every turn, and multiple versions of the same Argentinian restaurant. I swear they're everywhere. I would go into great detail of our many exciting adventures in Holland, but we really didn't have many. Not like Paris, where I very nearly got dragged off the street by some sleazy French guy. Creepy. Next time I'm going straight into defensive maneuvers. No more Mr. Nice Guy. Or girl, whatever. So after a few days we parted ways with both the city and my dad and Duane, after, unfortunately (not really) no interlude with the very legal substances floating around the city. Herbal ecstasy, anyone? No, really, I'm not interested at this point in my life. Oh but I have forgotten to mention the other strangely legal thing in Holland-or, more correctly, the Netherlands- prostitution. If you don't want to see them, don't go there. At least not to Amsterdam. The most amusing thing I saw personally was an esteemed establishment called "The Condomerie". Exact spelling and everything. Luckily for all of you more sensitive types, I was unable to take a picture. I will tell you that the assortment of colors and flavors (remember that I saw this in passing only, display window) was astonishing.  Hilarious. So. Anyway, after Amsterdam, my dad went home, and the mumster and I set off for Schiedam, home to Peet, Anita, Sanner, Robert, and Andras. I apologize to Sanner (there I go with it again) for almost certainly misspelling her name. I couldn't really pronounce it either, so I doubt she would discount me for it. We stayed with them for two nights, with one at a quaint little bed and breakfast, and our time was filled with appeltart (once again, Dutch, not my misspelling), bike rides through the countryside, and lots of trans-lingual catching-up. The van der Meers, which in English I believe would be just 'the Meers, were extremely gracious hosts, and we had a delightful time with them. After three days we were truly sad to leave, but the open road was a'callin'. Heh. So on we went to Bruges, Belgium, home to delicious chocolate, waffles, and a Michelangelo sculpture that hardly anyone knows about. As much of a follower I am of the Great Master, I, too, neglected to see it. We did manage to see some sweet little canals and ducklings while riding bikes through some intensely twisty and bumpy cobblestone streets. That's the thing about Europe, the cobblestones are everywhere, yet people still ride bikes. I think I'd have to get some extra shocks or something if I were to be doing that every day. 

After just one night we had to get a train back to Paris so we could get back our suitcases and the keys to the apartment on time. Darn those French and their lack of normal working hours. 

Ah, Paris! How beautiful. I can say pretty much the same about all of the places we've been since my last post, although from what I've seen this is pretty much the most well taken care of of the four (Dubrovnik, Pula, Venice, Paris). I think I left off the night of our arrival in Croatia, from which at least a week has passed already. How time flies. Anyway, our first day in Dubrovnik we walked through just a small portion of the old city in our efforts to recuperate from some tough travel. It is absolutely gorgeous. The streets are white marble and kept impeccably clean, all of the mainly visible buildings have been "remodeled" (more later) within the last ten years, and basically the whole thing is dedicated to tourism. In the 1990's Dubrovnik was attacked by their neighbors over the mountains, for reasons I don't know, and barely a roof within was spared damage. We found a chart along the walls depicting the exact number of direct hits,  indirect hits and burnt down buildings, and the amount was staggering. Another way of counting was to get up above the area and look at the red roofed buildings, all of which are newly built. The original construction included brown tiles. Almost every single building was capped with a beautiful red terra-cotta roof. A major feature in Grad Dubrovnik is their outlaying wall, which takes around an hour to walk around fully and showcases all of their stunning ocean views. 

From Dubrovnik we boarded a ferry to Reijka, which we stayed on for about 23 hours total, during whihc time we managed to eat two six course meals (prix fixe, not just us being piggy) and play countless hands of Quiddler. After a very short sleep we arrived at the shipping town and immediately bought bus tickets out. Reijka is not exactly charming. However they do feature a very 'interesting' neo-gothic church that managed to fool me for about a minute until I looked at their building materials and lack of buttressing. After about three hours of greyhounding it we arrived in Pula, and were much more pleased with the atmosphere. A nearby travel agent set us up at the Hotel Histria, part of a resort group that occupied a small peninsula. The whole affair was pretty strange as our hotel was the only one open at the time, so there were about five others of the same (large) size that were completely empty and shut down. For the first day it was sort of lonely and depressing until a huge group of Germans arrived for a tennis camp, which was about to take place at the also huge sports complex about a quarter mile away from the hotel. We spent about six hours there total in three days, playing badminton (not too shabbily) and tennis (horrific to watch). Dinners at night were in their dining hall, where you could buy a buffet dinner for 3 euro, or about $4. Very cheap, and mostly good. We had a train to catch in Venice in another two days so we left after three nights, at around five in the morning, on a commuter bus. I can now say that I have been to Slovenia, although we were only off of the bus for about five minutes while we were waiting in line for customs and such. Our arrival in Venice came at about 10:30, and we were quick to disembark the bus and find our hotel, which was extremely close (there was some confusion on which bridge to take, however, as my mom refused to understand that no matter which bridge you take you end up on the other side of the canal, and wanted to take the footbridge all of the way around the water rather than the one right in front of us). The Hotel Principe was absolutely gorgeous, decorated in the Victorian style, and right over the Grand Canal. I was personally the most happy with it because I was priveledged enough to get to sleep on a bed instead of a couch, as I had been for the last few days. The couches are one of the many reasons that this trip is wearing on me. It is amazing how alluring even the worst of beds can be after sleeping on fold out couches for a third of the last few months. Anyway, we only had one night in Venice, so we toured our area for a while then relaxed and enjoyed our view. The next day we did some major wandering and shopping, with our only sightseeing being St. Mark's square, which was fortunately (or maybe not) without the pigeons that used to plague the central area. So. From Venice we took the night train, with a triple sleeper compartment, all of the way to Paris, where we arrived at about 8:30 am. By this time we are well accomplished in Metro traveling, so we took our line directly from the station to a stop about a full block from our new place of residence. The Blue Marble bike tours agency (thanks from everyone to Liz Chilton, who recommended it to us way back in the planning stages) is also host to three magnificently tiny boarder apartments, which are absolutely perfect for our needs. My parents and I were there by ourselves for the first night before I was able to move in to the place Debra and I would soon be sharing, and then another before they could get in to theirs. Our first night and their second were spent in Duane's, who arrived our second morning. He was pretty much ready to go from the start, so he and my dad went out and toured around the area. That night we had some magnificent Indian food that is located about 100 yards away from our front door (so are two Thai, one North African, and a bevy of French restaurants). The next day Debra got in, verrrrry late, after a few subway ticket mishaps, etc. She too was rearing to go, so we took her on another tour of our neighborhood, which plays hosts to at least a dozen different restaurants and lots and lots of different market situations.  We've spent quite a bit of time already window shopping for french food. Our time has been spent in generally the same way, as we (my mom and I at least) haven't managed to accomplish anything too major (such as as entire museum) yet. However, my dad, Duane, and I visited the tomb of Napoleon (amazing) and the veteran's hostel that he had built that accompanies it. Attached is the army museum, which plays host to dozens of uniforms from countries around the world, as well as ancient weapons and a great exhibit on the two world wars.