Playing Catch-Up Day One: Amsterdam and Gent

When Jon and I flew into Paris, we went immediately to the train station in the airport. Neither of us were sure which train to use to go to the other station where our Amsterdam train was, so we took turns asking around in French. Everyone was helpful, and we were excited when they responded in French. A bunch of people had warned us to expect all English responses. The trains hum right along, quiet, fast and efficent- and they lull me right to sleep. I woke up as we were coming into the Netherlands and was speechless when I looked out my window. The rolling hills held small farms, ancient houses and trees that were so free and happy I was sure Bob Ross was somehoz involved.

Navigating in Amsterdam was easy. Language was something that is so eqsy for English-speakers to take for granted, so it was a relief when everyone we needed spoke English. They got us on a tram straight to our hostel's street and we lugged our bags down the cobblestone. After Jon and I settled into our dorm-style rooms, him on the boy floor and me on the girl, we headed out to explore the city.

The canals are gorgeous against the old architecture. Standing on one of the bridges covered in bikes (they are absolutely everywhere) and looking down the canal is so relaxing. The houses are right on the water and most of them have boats docked to their patio. House windows, bridges, boats, even some bikes, are covered in flower boxes. No side street feels like an alley because those, too, are lined with local businesses and open windows with viney plants or annuals in boxes.

To be touristy, we decided to go to the Anne Frank house. It was a short walk from our hostel and an incredibly moving experience. Her father asked that they keep the house unfurnished, as it was when he first returned to it. You walk through all the rooms, and at every step the floor creaks. I can't imagine being stuck there, silent, for days, months...

We left the museum and entered the more tourist-filled part of Amsterdam. The shops were full of the usual, but the store fronts were so much more interesting with the tall, narrow buildings qnd windows. No color was off limits for window frames, either. While we walked, we accidently wandered into the red light district, where the girls are literally in the zindows, knocking. Even in the "sketchy" part of the town, I felt completely safe. It was so funny to see tour guides leading groups of elderly Asian tourists through the streets.

It was on our second day in Amsterdam that Lon and I discovered the true value of the European sandwich. This common street fare comes in many varieties, most including cheese and mayonaisse or butter, and is a bargain at close to three euros. They'll fill you up for the afternoon and provide enough energy to make up for the jet lag (which I escaped, thanks to my sister!) and large amounts of walking. We began eating them for at least one meal a day and, I'll admit, we still pretty much are.

That day we also decided to rent bikes, since it's the main means of transport for them, and explore the other half of the city. We rode out to the lake that feeds the canals, and from one bridge we could see a windmill in the distance. As we continued our tour, we realized that we weren't exactly sure where we were. The trip back to the market we were looking for got us a little turned around, but the bikes made it home without a late fee.

By then, it was time to return to our hostel and grab our things to head to Gent, another place where we completely forgot about possible language complications. We got through the train ride well, even though the conductor NEVER said what stop we were at. Every time the train slowed, we were flying to windows to check our location. After getting off of the train, we tried to locate ourselves and our hostel on the map... and it was all in the Dutch-ish language of Belgium (I should really know what that is). After multiple failed attempts to communicate in French, English and the five Spanish words I know, a student came up to us and got us on the right tram. From the tram stop he gave us, we were able to find the hostel.

I wish I could describe our hostel experiences to you- the food, the diverse groups of lodgers, the frightening showers- but there is not enough blog space and there are no words to convey the experience. I say this now because Gent had easily the most bizarre shower I have ever used.

We didn't have any special plans for our time in Belgium, so we just roamed the streets of the town and discovered its personality more than its hot tourism sites. On our second day, we did go to the amazing cathedral in the middle of town, which was full of statues and vaulted ceiling that are constantly being restored because of their flawed design. Most of our Gent discoveries included restaurants. We ordered a specialty at a restaurant (a sandwich, of course) that the woman could only describe as "meet with sauce- you like," and she was right. We really did... not as much as the ice cream, though. I got a hazulnut flavor on our first visit and Jon tried four different flavors during our stay.

The town is known for its Medieval Neighborhood, housing a castle, shops and a section of canal that has both sides filled with medieval-aged building. One of the interesting tourist facts is that only half of this style of architecture found there is authentic. The town wanted to be known for the style and increase attendance to a fair held there, so they redid many of the buildings to fit the time period. This area is where all ages gather on the weekends to watch different groups perform, drink and hang out with friends. Jon got a local beer and I tried a red wine, and we sat on the water's edge trying to look like locals.

This was also where we spent most of our second day, writing and sketching, and the "looking like locals" must have worked because a man feeding pigeons began talking to us in his native language. All we could do was laugh when it seemed appropriate. As we sat by the water or walked through the cobblestone streets, we noticed brides walking around. Total, four different married couples were out and about with their photographers, posing for pictures and having tourists ask them for pictures. We weren't clear, and still quite aren't, if this was a festive time to do that or if it was a tradition, or just four girls that decided to do it.

After lunch and a canal walk, we headed back to the train station, or so we thought. We got on the tram in the wrong direction and had to switch at the last stop and completely retrace our steps. Over all, it was a good thing because it pushed our train to Paris back two hours and got us on the last inner-Paris train to the airport, where we were to spend the night.

We found to American boys spending a year abroad and played Euchre until about 4h, then took turns sleeping. The guys had a flight at 7h45, so Jon and I left the cold part of the station where the trains are and went to find chairs that were a bit warmer to sleep in. That day, we met up with Leslie in the train station of de Gaulle and began our Paris adventure.