April 7, 2024 by trs

Escape and Escapades: Spring Break in Roatan

Late last September, with the summer firmly over and our Christmas train trip arranged, I turned my eyes to planning our spring break getaway.

I knew I wanted to be somewhere warm, but also someplace not too taxing or far from home, so I zeroed in on the Caribbean. We would have only a week for the Spring Break / Easter week and early on the airfares and mile redemptions for the week were a disappointment to say the least. (Perhaps prices will never return to pre-COVID levels? It sure feels like it.) Honduras looked to be a good choice and initially, I had planned on time in both the Bay Islands and on the mainland, but quickly realized that to secure a lower airfare and a less stressful holiday, it would be best to shorten the holiday and just stay in one place.

I am glad I kept it simple. Early in 2024, my mom ended up in the hospital and I became the primary point of contact for calls with various medical staff, case managers, and more. With the daily medical discussions and issues that could take from one to six hours, I began to contemplate canceling our trip altogether. In the end, I got her treatment to a certain point where I felt I could split the difference such that I would still have some much-needed rest and relaxation and mother-daughter time, while also making daily check-ins related to my mom’s care. It was far from ideal, but I believe it was a good compromise.

*Roatan from the air–demonstrating some of the reef system surrounding the island*

Roatan is a fascinating place. It’s history, which includes a visit by Christopher Columbus, serving as a hangout for infamous pirates like Blackbeard, and once being a British colony, has shaped Roatan differently than the Honduran mainland. Although the British ceded the Bay Islands, including Roatan, to Honduras in 1861, it took nearly a hundred years before Spanish was taught on the islands’ schools. Today, English is still the first language of the islanders.

Roatan is a popular tourist destination for nature and adventure activities. It’s location along the world’s second largest barrier reef, the Mesoamerican, makes it an extremely popular scuba diving site. Roatan also boasts two cruise ship terminals, the first opening in 2008 and the second two years later. For an island only 40 miles long and 5 miles wide and a population somewhere between 50,000-100,000 people, two cruise ship terminals disgorging some 3,000 to 10,000 passengers a day in high season is astonishing. All these North American travelers have made the U.S. dollar the currency of choice on Roatan, vice the Honduran lempira.

I knew none of this. I usually research the heck out of where I am going. I like to know the history and current situation; I like to know the language, currency, and exchange rate. But this time, with all the stuff going on with my mom, I left much up to chance. I booked our flights, reserved our hotel, and looked up, but did not schedule, a thing for us to do.

On Sunday morning, C and I celebrated Easter a week early and then that night flew to Houston. We stayed the night then flew on to Roatan early Monday morning, arriving at our hotel, the Bananarama Dive and Beach Resort in West Bay, in time for a hectic lunch rush during a steamy tropical beach day. Ahhhhh…it felt amazing to be warm.

I struggle with stepping back and doing little. I like to keep engaged. But here it was our first day on the island and I had nothing at all planned. I had not even booked transport from the airport to West Bay. It only occurred to me as we boarded our plane in Houston that it could be a problem. Luckily I quickly checked the interwebs, reserved and paid for a taxi, and hoped for the best. I really thought it was 50-50 anyone would actually come and figured I might have just thrown $25 away. I was pleasantly surprised to find a driver with a cute handwritten sign with my name waiting for us in arrivals!

Therefore on our first day, all C and I did was make reservations for some activities on following days, walk on the beach, checked out the nearby shopping plazas, and lie about in the hammock or chairs on our bungalow porch.

On our second day, we headed to Jungle Top Adventures for an exciting few hours of ziplining and animal interactions. There seem an abnormally high ratio of zipline locations per population on Roatan, due to all those cruises. When we booked the zipline, we were not told which we were heading to, and I was a tad disappointed to find ours was located in Coxen Hole, the island’s main town, directly across from one of ports where two massive cruise ships were docked.

As I had read it is best to visit the animal park first because the sloths — the main attraction — can only be held by a limited number of persons before they are too tired, that was our first stop. While we did enjoy seeing to coati and the Yucatan white-tailed deer (Honduras’ national mammal) and meeting the monkeys and macaws, the sloths were the star of the show and one of the top reasons we chose to visit Roatan. C and I were both able to hold a sloth for about five minutes. With their arms around our necks and their legs around our waist, it was almost like holding a baby. The experience did not disappoint.

Next we headed to the zipline. We had to wait about 10 minutes before we could join the truck taking participants to the first of 16 zipline platforms. While the guides kitted us up, two more truckloads of adventurers arrived. All in all we had to wait 30 minutes before all our zipline guides arrived and zipped off to man the various platforms. However, once everyone had their gear and the guides were in place, we were zipped across the lines rapidly, like an assembly line. I had hoped to get a photo or video of my daughter, but she was hooked up and then off with such speed I hardly had time to react before it was my turn. When I arrived at the platform, C was already zipping on to the next. At the midway point though we all crowded together again. This time I was able to video C taking a running leap off the platform and then flipping upside down — of all the ziplines I have done in various places this was the first and only place I had heard of that being allowed.

*C and I and our group prepare for our submersible scooter experience*

On Wednesday, we did the most extraordinary activity! We glided through the water in a Breathing Observation Submersible Scooter (BOSS). I had initially booked for Friday, but the company emailed me on Tuesday afternoon to inform me that Thursday and Friday were predicted to be poor weather, but they could accommodate us earlier.

I have to admit, I was a wee bit scared to do this. I enjoy being warm and near the water; to feel sand between my toes, but I am not comfortable in the ocean. I get sea sick on boats. I am not comfortable in the ocean. I once tried to learn to scuba dive in the Philippines and kept freaking out during the basic water practice. I am just much more a landlubber and I get most of my fish experiences at aquariums (which I LOVE to visit). But C was excited to give it a try and so I thought I should be brave and give it a go.

The scooters work on the principle of an air pocket forming in a glass underwater. To get in, the scooters are held just below the water’s surface with the air pocket already formed in the large diving bell-like helmet. Then compressed air, just like the tanks used for diving, is pumped into the helmet. One has to hold one’s breath for just a few seconds to duck under and bring their head into the helmet. Well, it sounds simple. C did it in one go. I freaked out. It took me five times to get up the courage to get in. Thankfully, C went first and did not see that. Once everyone is in, the scooters are lowered to their maximum depth of ten feet. Then one can controls the scooter just like a scooter on land — with a toggle switch for speed and moving the handle bars to the sides to turn.

*We visited the Roatan Chocolate Factory in West End after our underwater scooter experience*

I wear glasses and unlike in snorkeling, where I have to accept blurred vision because I am not going to spring for a prescription mask, I could wear my glasses while operating the underwater scooter! I also have a lot of ear and sinus issues and that (along with a fear of sharks and running out of air and drowning) is what keeps keep from scuba diving. At the depth of the scooters, I could feel the pressure on my ears and I struggled to pop them, having to do so repeatedly, but I could manage. I have never been able to see a reef and fish underwater like I could on the scooter and I found myself laughing with delight. Also, because the giant helmets made everyone’s heads look really tiny on top of their bodies.

Thursday and the first part of Friday did turn out to have poor weather. Though it did not rain during the day, the winds picked up substantially, up to 25 mph, making the seas very choppy. Nearly all activity stopped along the beach. Though West Bay is a nice beach, it is not very wide, and on sunny days the beach chairs take up a good third to half of the sandy real estate and the crowds of beachgoers take up most of the rest. So though it was very breezy, it was still nice and warm, and I took strolls along the shore, while C chilled out in our hammock. I welcomed the respite. If the weather had been perfect, I would have felt compelled to be doing something, but as it wasn’t, I was off the hook. I did have to make several phone calls and emails related to my mom and I had time to do them, while also feeling sand between my toes and a deliciously warm wind all around.

*The wind kicks up the waves around the water taxi pier in West Bay*

The sun returned on Saturday, our last day, so C and I headed out to parasail. This would be C’s first time ever and my second, but my first time parasail in tandem. During my first time, in the Bay of Islands, New Zealand, the boat motor stopped when the woman after me was up, and her parachute slowly sunk back down to the ocean. She had to unfasten herself and swim back to the boat. I had thanked my lucky stars it had not been me, but admit that I had been a little scared to parasail since. I am happy to report that C and I did it without a single incident.

That afternoon C wanted to stand-up paddleboard (SUP). It had been on our list for the trip in a large part because our hotel had advertised it as being readily available. And yet throughout the week we had not seen anyone paddleboarding. When I went to ask at our activity kiosk I was told they didn’t have any paddleboards, and then the guy corrected it to, um, no paddleboards that work well. I really wondered about their secret defective paddleboards. At the next kiosk they told me they could get me paddleboards, but could they have ten minutes to “find” them? Turned out they could only locate one, so I left it to C to show me how it is done.

*C looks pretty cool doing SUP at sunset*

Unfortunately, C had only done SUP once before – at the lake during last summer’s camp. Doing it in the ocean on a busy beach turned out to be a whole new level. Still she managed pretty well. She took a little break after 15 minutes and let me give it a try. I only made it to a crouching position before falling off and struggled to maneuver around the crowds of bobbing heads. It became clear pretty quickly why SUP seems to have fallen by the wayside in Roatan, at least during the busy season.

Then just like that our six days in Roatan was over. Afterwards, once we returned home, it felt short, but during the trip it felt just right. It gave me just the right amount of time to rest, deal with issues at home, and spend mother-daughter time with C while doing amazing activities or just chilling out together.

March 23, 2024 by trs

The Mechanics of Settling into DC

*The Washington Monument from the fountain at the WWII Memorial*

This post is long overdue. One could even say it has become OBE or Overcome By Events in State Department parlance. And yet I cannot quite shake the thought of putting pen to paper in an attempt to explain at least some of the processes we went through to unexpectedly curtail from an overseas tour to Washington, D.C. To explain what is largely a bureaucratic logistical exercise based on policies and procedures laid out in the State Department’s Foreign Affairs Manual but can become exasperating and stressful.

Moving the Cats from Guinea In a Hurry. Traveling internationally with pets has never been without its challenges. {see here and here and here for example] On airplanes, my cats have traveled cargo, excess baggage, and in-cabin, but also in the car when we drove across the U.S.-Mexican border to Ciudad Juarez. Transportation though is just one piece of the puzzle. The greater challenge is the @%$&! paperwork. It has to be done quickly and correctly in a short timeframe within the 3-7 days of travel. Before going to Guinea, Europe had instituted new rules that required all pets transiting the EU to meet the same requirements as if they were entering those countries. Though we needed an extra document endorsed by the United States Department of Agriculture / Animal and Plant Health Inspection Service (USDA-APHIS) for the plane change in Brussels, that was all given that our travel originated in the U.S. However, coming from Guinea, designated as a high-risk rabies country, one needs to have a titer test completed at least three months before travel. This would not be possible with my shortened departure timeline. Therefore, we could not fly to the U.S. through Europe. Instead, we took Ethiopian Airlines via Addis Ababa, which required us to fly nine hours in the opposite direction first, subjecting ourselves to 34 hours of travel time door to door. And the cats to 34 hours in their carriers. This included Ramen, our new diplo-kitty. It was stressful, as usual, but we managed, again.

Temporary Lodging. When transferring from an overseas posting to the U.S., a Foreign Service employee can utilize the Home Service Transfer Allowance or HSTA. It helps employees and their families to defray costs upon their return. It can cover lodging and some per diem for up to 60 days, with some possibilities to extend should household goods not yet arrive. This gave C and I a place to stay while I worked out my next steps.

Before our arrival, I had reached out to the same company that provides temporary lodging for government workers that had housed us the year before. I wanted us to be in the same apartment building we had lived in during my French training as I figured it would provide the easiest post-curtailment landing for my daughter. I did not know where we might be after the temporary lodging, but at least I could initially ensure she would be somewhere familiar and would start at the same elementary school she had been at before we went to Guinea. We move so frequently in the Foreign Service that living in a place more than once is a rarity. Not only were we able to get the same building, but when we checked in we found we had been assigned the exact same apartment we had vacated only 7 months before! Alas, the HSTA covers for only so long and I needed to find something more permanent.

Enrolling the Kiddo in School. Once we moved to Guinea, I thought I was done doing the school enrollment for a few years. Yet here we were suddenly back in northern Virginia. Luckily, I had been through the process once before when preparing for my Guinea assignment at the Foreign Service Institute in Arlington, and the schools in the area are very familiar with military and foreign service families moving in and out of the area. Thus the paperwork was pretty straightforward. One thing I could not do in advance though was the tuberculosis test, which is mandatory for enrollment. Though our Health Unit at the Embassy in Guinea could perform the test before departure, a test conducted while still in a country with a high incidence rate of TB will not be accepted.

It had taken longer to arrange the curtailment than expected – with bureaucracy it is always a waiting game – and thus our flight got us back to the U.S. after school had been in session for a week after winter break. To get my daughter C enrolled as quickly as possible, the TB test was a top priority. After landing, we went through immigration, gathered our belongings, got a taxi to the hotel, and then with my father’s car waiting at the hotel, we headed straight to a clinic to get that blood draw. C was then able to start school a few days into the following school week.

[Not so fun fact: Later screenings found that my daughter has latent TB, most likely as a result of our serving in Guinea. The majority of persons with latent TB in the U.S. acquired it overseas. She had to undergo long-term monitored treatment for it. Just one more gift from Guinea and an unexpected side-effect to our lifestyle.]

The Search for Permanent Housing. As a Foreign Service Officer, there is not really any housing that is permanent until one leaves the service, thus permanent housing refers to the lodging one lives in for the majority of the tour. Overseas that is one’s assigned housing. In the U.S., it is the housing the employee finds to live in.

With my 4 years of college living in dormitories, my 7 years living overseas with various study, work, and travel, and the combined 14 years overseas with the government, I have not had a whole lot of experience looking for housing. Though I had found a remote assignment and could have lived anywhere, like my condo in Florida, I felt that 1. professionally it would be better for me to be in DC, and 2. personally it would be better for my daughter to be where she had been before. When I took her to school the first day back, a friend of hers from the year before spotted her, ran toward her, and they hugged while spinning around as if they were in a movie. I knew then that staying in the DC area would be 1000% the right decision.

However, knowing you want to be in a certain area and finding housing there are two very different things. House hunting is exhausting. There is research into what one is looking for and then checking out what is actually available on the market. Then setting up viewings. Each place has positives and negatives and I imagine C and I living in each one. In many ways, it feels similar to the bidding process we go through to get our next assignments. Then one finds a place and has to apply and hope the other side likes you too.

Thankfully, I absolutely lucked out and the fourth place we look at is a gem and the owner likes us and picks us over the other potential renters. Then, because I have lived in furnished places for decades, I had to buy furniture. I had odds and ends such as a rocking chair, a decorative bench, two wood storage cabinets, a piano, and many wall hangings, but I did not own a sofa or a bed, end tables or a TV stand, dressers or desks, bookcases or lamps. I expect that seems odd for someone my age, but it must be fairly common among those with this kind of nomadic life, right? Even though I tried to buy economical pieces, all the expenses did add up. Still, there was a bit of fun to the shopping spree.

After all that, it is little wonder that I was not very keen to pull up stakes again only six to 12 months later and decided instead to remain in DC. Every move just comes with so many challenges; it never seems to get easier. It might indeed be getting harder the older I and my daughter become. Yet there are many positives to being here and C and I look forward to spending some more time here before we head back overseas. Now that the mechanics of settling in have given way to feelings of being settled.

February 26, 2024 by trs

2023 Winter Vacay: A Trip Down Memory Lane, Part 3, La-la-land

*Los Angeles’ beautiful Union Station: where I arrived in the city in 1984 and 2023*

In 1984, when my family traveled to Los Angeles by cross-country train, we stayed with my mother’s cousin in Dana Point, about an hour south of the city center. This was not a part of the trip I wanted to recreate. Though C and I did visit that cousin when we went to California in 2016, she had moved to Carlsbad. That house from 1984 later slid off the cliffside.

Instead, I had booked a hotel very close to the Hollywood Walk of Fame and the Chinese Theater, two sights I do remember us visiting in 1984. I did not want to drive around Los Angeles if I could avoid it. In 1984, mother and aunt rented an automatic transmission car that neither could drive very well (they were used to manual cars and my mom kept hitting the brake thinking it was the clutch), which made city driving even more….challenging. C and I could get to the sights we wanted to see on foot or by Uber.

Arriving three hours late following a 43.5-hour train ride, C and I were very eager to get off the train, get to the hotel for showers, and then for a walk to really stretch our legs. The sun was shining, the palm trees were swaying, and the temperature was in the mid-60s.

*Grauman’s Chinese Theater – it looks much the same as in 1984, only with some added digital screens and some shorter and more efficient cars driving past*

Our luggage arrived quickly and I called an Uber. Our driver had his GPS set to Mandarin Chinese so I thought I would speak a little and this delighted both myself and the driver. At the hotel, we were lucky to be able to check in early, something we probably would not have been able to do had we arrived on time, so we also freshened up before hitting Hollywood Boulevard.

Most of the walk to the Chinese Theater was quiet, that is until we turned onto the Boulevard itself. It was packed full of tourists, vendors, and folks in cosplay working the crowd for paid photo-ops. We saw people dressed as Freddy Krueger, The Mask (the Jim Carrey movie), Michael Jordan, the Joker, Spiderman, Mickey Mouse, a Transformer, and many more I just do not recall. There were a lot and it was hard to get past some of them. We popped into the Chinese Theater courtyard – mostly so I could tell C it was the same place I had visited when I was 11. And that was it. That was all we did in 1984, too!

We got lunch at the Hard Rock Cafe. It has become a bit of a tradition for C and I, with us having dined in at least six Hard Rock establishments in the past three years. We were rather desperate to sit down at a table and eat in a restaurant, i.e. not fruit and granola bars from a bag at our coach seats. And there was the sensation still of rocking back and forth as if we were still on the train. The food and drink restored us and we were then able to get out and about.

*I focused on seeking out the Hollywood stars that would have been on the Walk of Fame in 1984*

We spent the rest of the day checking out various shops, especially Japanese and Korean fashion and goodies shops, and looking at the various celebrity names on the stars of the Hollywood Walk of Fame. At the time of my visit in 1984, there were around 1,770 Walk of Fame stars; but in December 2023 there were 1,000 more. We walked down to Thai Town, the only such ethnic Thai neighborhood officially recognized in the U.S., as C had a specific store she wanted to visit. On our walk back, we passed lines of vintage cars along the Boulevard. It was Saturday night and the classic and lowrider vehicles were out cruising.

*Hollywood Boulevard lighting up as the sun goes down*

On our second day in Los Angeles, C and I went to Universal Studios Hollywood. During my 1984 visit with my family, a visit to the theme park had been one of the highlights. This would be C’s first visit to a Universal Studios amusement park and we were eager to get on as many of the rides as we could. I especially wanted to take C on the famous Tram Tour, one of the few parts of the visit I remembered. The part of the tour with the mechanical great white shark from JAWS was seared into my memory.

Once in the park, I realized almost none of the current attractions would have been part of my 1984 visit. C and I were really looking forward to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, but think about it, the first Harry Potter book was published in 1997, 13 years after my trip to Los Angeles. The Revenge of the Mummy ride, the one C and I made a beeline for as soon as we got into the park, is based on the popular Mummy movie franchise; the first of those movies was released in 1999. The Kung Fu Panda Adventure? Based on a movie released in 2008. C and I were able to get on nearly all the rides at the park. Because the temperatures were in the 60s, we opted to skip the water-based ride as we did not want to get wet. I remembered teasing my younger brother about the Jurassic Park movies way back when, but then with the first one released in 1993, it did not go back quite as far as our 1984 trip. Even the Simpsons ride, though based on television’s longest-running American primetime show, would not have been around back then. The show first aired in December 1989. Oh my, I was starting to feel old.

*This building facade is based on the Despicable Me movie, which came out in 2010*

The Universal Studios Park of 1984 (there was no need to designate it as the park in Hollywood as it was the only one of its kind: the park in Florida opened in 1990) was largely just stage shows. Animal shows, stunt shows, shows based on specific TV shows, and the tram tour. I remember seeing an Indiana Jones show. The first movie opened in 1981 and I had seen it probably 20 times. It was my favorite movie!

At least the tram tour through the Universal Studios backlot still has a few stops from 1984 – JAWS, the flash flood, and the Bates Motel. The icy tunnel, the collapsing bridge, and the terrible Battlestar Galactica sets were no longer there. It was kind of a shock to me to pass by the courthouse square that was such a huge part of the Back to the Future movies (my second favorite after Indiana Jones) and realize it would not have been there in 1984, as the first of the movies was not released until the following year. And yet my almost 12-year-old kiddo stared blankly at the set, as she was unfamiliar with the movies.

We spent all day at the park. It was Christmas Eve, and though the weather had been lovely all day with the sun up, as the sun set, it grew chilly. It was time to head back to the hotel to get some shut-eye before the next phase of our trip.

January 21, 2024 by trs

5 Pros and Cons on Being Posted to D.C.

It has been a year since C and I returned to the US after curtailing from Guinea. Now that we have been here awhile and begun to really settle in, I think its time to talk about the positives and negatives of Washington, D.C. as a place of assignment such as I did for Ciudad Juarez, Shanghai, and Lilongwe. (Sadly, we were not in Guinea long enough for me to experience many of the “pros.”)

The Pros

1. Greater Autonomy. Living overseas as part of a diplomatic mission comes with a few extra rules, requirements, and restrictions. There are the mandatory radio checks – call ins to the Marines Post using the Embassy-issued radios to make sure they are in working order in the event of an emergency. These could be weekly or monthly depending on the Post. We also must submit an “out of town locator” every time we travel, domestically or internationally, for security and accountability.

In some of my posts, like Ciudad Juarez, Malawi, and Guinea, mission personnel were prohibited from taking public transport. In Malawi and Guinea, one could not drive outside the city limits between sunset and sunrise, which within 15 degrees of the equator means half the day. When I was in Ciudad Juarez, we were unable to drive beyond the city limits further into Mexico and even some parts of the city were off-limits to us.

At each of my posts, due to either high visa numbers (Shanghai and Ciudad Juarez) or a small staff (Malawi and Guinea), scheduling vacation has been quite the production. Taking a big chunk of time off during the busy summer transfer season, like this past summer, was very unlikely. Even during my previous stints in the U.S. with the State Department I could not as the Foreign Service Institute allows for little leave during training.

But now? No radio checks, no phone trees, no out-of-town locators, no special travel restrictions. And vacationing is a whole lot easier! While not all D.C. offices might be so accommodating, I am very glad for mine. It is nice to have, at least for a little while, far fewer persons from work involved in my free time.

2. Mail That Arrives Fast. Gone are the days of waiting weeks and weeks for our mail to arrive. In Ciudad Juarez, we had a post address in El Paso, Texas, just across the border, and mail staff would pick it up every few days, so it might take only a week to receive our mail. In Shanghai, we had the Diplomatic Post Office (DPO) but our post was routed through Hong Kong, so the delivery times were closer to 10 days to two weeks. Yet, in Malawi and Guinea, mail took quite a bit longer; on average it would take 3-4 weeks, though sometimes longer. For Halloween, I would ask C what she wanted to be in August so we would be sure to have a costume. I would place orders in early November for Christmas and her birthday or risk them not arriving in time. But now? I can now place an order online with a retailer and have it within a few days, if not sooner. It seems quite miraculous.

3. Public Services and Spaces. While some Foreign Service Officers may spend their careers wholly or in part in developed countries, I have leaned toward the less developed, more off-the-beaten-track locales. There have been positive aspects to every place I have lived and served, but one category of things, which are often taken for granted when one has them and greatly missed when one does not are public goods. For example, sidewalks. One of my favorite activities is a nice long walk. Shanghai had many great sidewalks. Ciudad Juarez had a limited number. But they were nearly non-existent in Malawi and Guinea. While I do enjoy walking in an urban environment, there are also many public walking and hiking trails. Or biking, if I ever get around to buying myself a bicycle again. I also rather like public transit and although the U.S., with Americans’ love of the automobile, isn’t exactly a mecca of such, in Washington, D.C. and the cities immediately surrounding it, the bus and metro system is pretty good. Then there are the public libraries (oh, be still my voracious reader heart), public parks, and playgrounds. And museums! The Smithsonian museums of Washington are amazing and free. And schools: my daughter attends a wonderful public school she loves and is thriving in. Even consider emergency services. While the somewhat regular sounds of firetrucks and ambulances (my apartment building is within a mile of two fire stations) might sometimes be annoying, I recall how limited fire, rescue, and police vehicles were in Malawi and Guinea, and I am grateful we have these services.

4. Activities Galore. I have tended toward serving in more “make your own fun” kind of posts where there are often fewer locally organized activities and places to visit. One of the (quite a few) reasons we left Guinea were the few activities for my daughter. There were no summer camps or community centers or parks. While the school offered a limited number of after school activities, there was no late school bus for those who participated in them. I worried my daughter was missing out. Now that we are in Northern Virginia, she is spoiled for choice! The school offers many after school clubs and sports activities and that very important (especially for a working single mom) late school bus. C is participating in chorus and technical theater at school as well as math tutoring, guitar, and Scouts in the community. This past summer she attended summer camps focusing on space, tennis, and writing code. She has expressed interest in getting involved in some of the school sport teams and also maybe taking skateboarding, ice skating, or Irish dancing in the community. All of that and so much more is available!

There is also just more for C and I to do in and around town. In the year we have been back we have visited the Museum of Illusion, the National Portrait Gallery, the National Museum of Asian Art, the National Natural History Museum, the U.S. Holocaust Memorial Museum, Planet Word Museum, the National Zoo, and the U.S. Botanical Garden. We also attended two Washington Nationals baseball games, and saw Cirque du Soleil, the musical Evita, and a traditional concert of the Christmas Revels. There are just endless opportunities for recreation here.

5. Friends and Family. Living the nomadic life we do with so much time far from the U.S., we often miss out on seeing our family; and with so many friends also in the Foreign Service (FS) it is often difficult to catch up with them as they are scattered around the world. But an upside of now living in Washington, D.C. is my family is from the area and live not too far, there are friends from different parts of my life living here, and every FS family has to cycle through Washington at some point. In the past year, C and I have twice been able to see my sister perform on stage with her community theater group. We also attended my brother-in-law’s birthday party. My aunt came up to stay with us for a few days and we traveled down to her in Jacksonville for the Labor Day weekend. In March, we went roller skating with a group of people we served together with in Malawi; in June we met up with a FS friend and her kids at the Natural History Museum for a “Night at the Museum” family event. When friends from Guinea spent a few days of home leave in D.C., we got together with them and another family who had served in Guinea for a day of food and conversation. When other friends from our Malawi days visited D.C. in October, we headed out to Cox Farms for some traditional American fall festival fun. C was able to spend several days in New York with her paternal grandparents during the summer and Thanksgiving at her dad’s in Kentucky. There has been so much more, but the point is that being in the U.S., and especially in D.C., has given us the opportunity to spend more time with friends and family than we have in the past few years combined.

The Cons

#1 Cost of Living. Moving to Washington, D.C. has meant an adjustment in the personal finance department. Depending on which index you look at, D.C. may be listed as the fifth, seventh, or tenth most expensive city in the U.S., but it all points to shelling out more bucks to live here. Rents are particularly high and as a single mom, I am feeling the pinch. When overseas, our housing is part of our benefit package and when I have been in the U.S. on training between assignments, the Department has paid for my housing as part of per diem. This might sound a bit crazy (and I know after I say this I may lose quite a bit of sympathy points from non-Foreign Service readers), but this is the first time I am paying rent and electricity in over a decade. I do get the full Washington, D.C. locality pay, a bump in pay based on the cost of living in certain locales, but I, of course, am no longer receiving the plus up in pay from post differential (added compensation for service in foreign areas that differ substantially from the U.S.) or the cost of living adjustment (COLA; a bump in pay to counteract higher costs in another location). I am also just paying more in activity costs for all those great things we can do. But, I will say, with our wonderful library, my book costs have gone way down.

*Ramen surveys the chaos of the living room after delivery of our HHE*

#2 Smaller Housing and ALL Our Stuff. As previously mentioned, when foreign service officers work overseas our housing is provided as part of our benefits. With the exception of Guinea, I have been provided a lovely (sometimes quirky) three bedroom house or apartment; though our Guinea apartment was a two bedroom, it was very roomy. In D.C., I was lucky to find a nice two-bedroom just outside the city right by a metro (subway) station. It is an older build, so more roomy than many of the newer apartments, but it is still smaller than every one of my Embassy/Consulate homes. When we are in training in the U.S. between overseas positions, the majority of our things are kept in storage. This time though, every one of the 100 plus boxes of our household goods would be delivered to us. I have not had all of my things in the U.S. with me since I first went overseas to work for the government in early 2009. And I have bought quite a few more knick- knacks since then. And acquired a daughter with her own accoutrements. But with the help of a storage room in our building and giving away items in our local Buy Nothing group, we have made it work.

#3. Doing all the chores. I know this one, too, will not make me popular among the non-expat readers, but I keenly feel the lack of household support. As a single working parent, I have chosen posts overseas where I have been able to hire staff to help with the chores. I have had a housekeeper/nanny the previous four postings. In Malawi, I also had an amazing gardener who worked wonders with our yard. C has basically outgrown the nanny and we have no yard to garden, but the chores – the dishes, laundry, vacuuming, taking the garbage out, and more – are all now for me. Well, C is certainly old enough to help, so there is that. And, shhhhh, its a bit of a secret, but sometimes I find I even like to do some of it. There is also the lack of support from the Embassy on household repairs. When something needs fixing in our housing overseas you submit a work order and the facilities staff will take care of it. It isn’t always as fast as one would hope, but they get it done. Here, even though I am renting, I do have to manage the apartment more. When we first moved in, a handle broke off the closet door, the fridge water filter needed replacing, the oven started to smoke upon first heating, and the shower curtain bar fell (on top of me). It’s fine. It is just adulting without Embassy support – what the majority of people deal with. But it is something different.

#4. Winter. I am not a fan of the cold. For years now, I have tried my best to implement a winter avoidance strategy. Having lived in Hawaii, California, Florida, the Philippines, Indonesia, Singapore, Malawi, and Guinea, I think I can say that I have done a fairly good job. Even Ciudad Juarez and Shanghai were rarely very cold and the snow that came once or twice a year was light and short lived. Returning to middle of winter Northern Virginia from always tropical Guinea had been a shock to my well-laid plans. Having culled many of our winter clothes for a multi-year tour in West Africa, we were somewhat unprepared. Though 2023 was fairly mild, the winter of 2024 is predicted to be snowy. I missed D.C.’s major snow storms of the past few years like Snowmaggedon in 2010 and Snowzilla in 2016, but it is possible with several planned years in Washington, that my luck will run out.

#5. Fear of Missing Out (FOMO). I love living overseas and have done so for nearly 19 years in the past 30 in nine different countries. Though we have been back in the States for vacation and training, the longest stint, since January 2009, was the year I joined the State Department. I am a Foreign Service Officer, with the key word being “foreign.” In the past year, we have seen friends move to new countries like Ghana, Turkmenistan, Nicaragua, Kazakhstan, Cameroon, and Nigeria and others announce their next move to locations such as China, Mongolia, Germany, and Laos. I feel a twinge of envy reading every one of these, knowing the mix of excitement and trepidation when one gets a new assignment and then starts it. I know though that staying here in Washington a bit longer was the right thing to do for myself, my daughter, and the cats. Believe you me, the cats really would like to prolong the time before I next shove them into a carrier for another 30-hour journey.

All-in-all, although I do miss the good things we experience overseas, every place comes with the good and the bad, and the positives far outweigh the negatives here in D.C.

December 11, 2023 by trs

Foreign Service: Domestic Bidding for a Change

How Did I Get Here?

This is not where I expected to be: neither in Washington, D.C. nor bidding for my next job. I expected to still be working in Guinea and to have another year before my next bidding cycle. But, here I am.

It was in 2020 that I last went through the U.S. Foreign Service bidding cycle, when those whose tours are coming to an end apply, or rather “bid,” for their next assignment. With nine months of training and then a planned three-year tour, I expected to work in Guinea until the summer of 2025, with bidding then landing in the fall of 2024. Unfortunately, for a host of reasons, I curtailed from my assignment in Conakry after only six months, and returned to Washington in January 2023.

I landed a great assignment in the Afghanistan Special Immigrant Visa Unit reviewing application documentation from Afghans who were employed by or on behalf of the U.S.. When Kabul fell and the U.S. made its final withdrawal from Afghanistan in August 2021, I was on my Home Leave between my assignment in Malawi and starting my training for Guinea. As many of my colleagues assisted with the final evacuation or with Afghans resettling in the U.S., I felt useless watching it unfold and not being in a position to assist. With my current posting, I am now able to help in a small way.

Conventional wisdom in the Foreign Service says that an officer should spend the first two tours overseas and the third in D.C. And plenty of people follow this playbook. The thing is everyone knows an exception to the rule, including quite a few high level officers. For me, I figured A. I spent several years working for the federal government in Washington before joining the State Department and B. The high cost of living in and around the nation’s capital is not at all single-parent friendly.

Yet at the beginning of 2023, counter to all my best-laid plans, I found us in Washington. A condition of my curtailment was to work here at least one year, and I was lucky to secure a position for a year and a half. Though a part of me would like to be abroad again, another, much stronger, part could not fathom moving again so soon. We had moved three times in nine months. To Guinea in June 2022, to temporary housing in the States in January 2023, and then into more permanent housing in March 2023. Throw in the second half of our between tours Home Leave with a trip to Grand Teton and Yellowstone and then nearly two weeks in a hotel and it’s more upheaval. Add in our departure from Malawi and then Home Leave in Florida in August 2021 and then the move to Virginia in September 2021 for nine months, and the tally is five or six moves in a 20-month period. Guinea was supposed to have been for three years. My daughter, my cats, and me, well, we deserve to settle in for a spell.

And so this is where I found myself: bidding earlier than expected, bidding from a different place than expected, and bidding on different jobs than expected.

On the Auction Block

It is not easy to explain the whack-a-doodle (why yes, this is a diplomatic term) process the Foreign Service has its mid-level diplomats go through to procure their next assignment. Here we are, having already passed a multi-step rigorous entrance exam to join the ranks of the diplomatic corps, every two to four years in a stressful and time consuming competition for our next assignment.

I have bid mid-level twice before. The first time was in 2016, when I tried to compare it to how teenagers might finagle a date to the homecoming dance. My second mid-level bidding session occurred in 2020, smack in the middle of all the weirdness of the first six to eight months of the COVID-19 pandemic, when I attempted to equate bidding to buying a house in a very competitive market. This year though, the whole thing felt more like an auction.

It is not a perfect analogy. Though I have not been to a live auction, I have seen them portrayed in movies and television, and they move with lightning speed. You have an item up for bid, the auctioneer gives a little introduction and then a starting price, and then away it goes. Within minutes the item is sold and the next item is up for bid. The government, however, does not do anything quite that fast. Our bidding is a slow burn that takes place over weeks. We have our catalog of open positions with written descriptions and we set up calls with the incumbent to gather more information. We can see in the system how many people are bidding our target jobs, but we are not in the room with them. We do not know how serious their bids may be, we do not know what they are bringing to the table. They might raise their paddle to express interest, but they can later decide not to make a final offer. We are hoping that our bid package–a combination of our past assignments, references, and interview responses–will make us the highest bidder on at least one of our preferred jobs.

In the early days of the bid season, I felt very much like a competitive bidder. With multiple tours under my belt at different posts (some Consulates, some Embassies, and now a DC job) and in different career tracks (some consular, some political, and now a management designated one), I felt fairly confident as I strode into the virtual auction houses. During interviews I felt like a bidder on the edge of her seat, straining to hold my bid paddle higher than any others, basically yelling “pick-me!” with every response.

However, as the day approached to lock in bids, I felt less like a bidder and more like the auctioneer trying desperately to sell myself, the “as-is” vase sitting alone on the pedestal in the glaring spotlight. “The next item up for bid is this capable mid-level officer with twelve years in the Department. She has both consular and political positions under her belt. She is about as handy as a pocket on your shirt. Let’s start the bidding at….” The power had shifted to the offices, who were now the buyers. Would any one of them bid on me?

Joining the Club of the Unassigned

The bid season lasts approximately eight weeks. For the first five weeks, bidding officers and offices with open positions prepare their respective bid cards, with bidders figuring out which positions will make their official bid list and offices ranking those they interview. At the end of the five weeks, bidders lock in their final five to ten bids in the system and hit submit. During the last three weeks, offices work out who they want. Shortlists of the top three to five candidates are made. Those who make the shortlists are informed. Top candidates will be sent a “Bureau Leading Candidate” (BLC) email about five days before the last day of the official bid season. Offers, called “handshakes,” are sent out on the last day.

I did not receive one.

While many may receive one or more offers on Handshake Day, a good many will not. This year I noticed several emails touting the statistic that 30-50% of positions remained unfilled a month after Handshake Day. Still, though we are told this and we tell one another its normal and not to put too much stock into it, when you see many friends and colleagues posting about their next assignment on the day, it does not feel all that great to be without.

And this was the first time I had not received a handshake on the day. During my first go-round my offer arrived two days late though it was dated handshake day (the bureau, it seemed, had forgotten to send it). In my second mid-level bid season, I received two BLC emails (not really a humble brag — my strategy? Bid jobs with few to no other bidders!), and once I made my preference known, the official offer came on Handshake Day. Nonetheless, this time, I had become an “unassigned bidder.” The auction had closed, and I had been swept off the display table to be stored in a back room until I found an office to proffer me the coveted handshake.

Success at Last!

Luckily, though Handshake Day might be the end of bidding for some, for others this is when things just get going. In this auction, an individual can only be the successful bidder on one item; any unfilled positions are then back in play. A week after Handshake Day, I was back searching the available jobs and found not only a few new-to-me unfilled positions, but also positions still open among my top four choices! Two weeks after the official Handshake Day, I received an offer for one of my original top desired jobs and I readily accepted. The day after I received another and had to turn that one down. All’s well that ends well, I suppose, but I am glad to be done with it, at least for (fingers crossed) two more years.

Our next assignment: Another domestic job in Washington. (I know, the whole title was a spoil alert!) I will be a Career Development Officer, like an assignment counselor, for first and second-tour officers. And for the first time in my Foreign Service career, I will not have to move when I change jobs.

November 20, 2023 by trs

A Weekend Getaway in Lancaster, PA

*Amish carriages parked in the early morning* *in Ronks, PA*

One of the good things about being in the U.S. now are the many opportunities for wonderful weekend getaways. And though my 11-year old is extremely well traveled internationally, she has far less experience in our home country. It is important to me that she has the opportunity to see sights around the U.S. that also introduce her to the variety of cultures, history, people and places that our nation offers.

For the Veteran’s Day weekend, I decided C and I would visit Lancaster, Pennsylvania. I have vague memories of visiting the area when I was a child, perhaps 8 or 9 years old, with a friend and her mom, also a single mother. But other than having spent a day there, I had no other recollections. With good weather and a fair amount of trees still in their autumnal leaf glory, Lancaster seemed a great place to get away from our every day.

*A delicious assortment of macarons at Bistro Barberet*

Our first stop in Lancaster was the Bistro Barberet, an authentic French restaurant and bakery owned and operated by an award winning French chef located in the historic downtown area. C loves French pastries and desserts and insisted she needed some bona fide macarons a.s.a.p. She left with the macarons, which must have passed muster as she ate every one of them (I got none).

Next we headed to the Lancaster Central Market. Founded in 1730 as part of the town’s original design, the market is the longest continuously operating public market in the country. It’s 60-some vendors offer a little bit of the old – from fresh local produce, homemade canned and dried goods, and family-owned meat, seafood, and poultry options – to the new, including Puerto Rican, Thai, and West African foods. Once inside, C immediately made a beeline for the West African stall as she identified the flags of Guinea and Liberia on the stall at once. Though we had not really immersed ourselves into the local food scene in Conakry, the flag was a pleasant reminder of both our personal journey and the international connections around us. C really loved the market. She tried the local favorites like soft pretzels and whoopie pies, and declared the market a wonder that she wished were closer to us.

Hankering for something a bit more substantial for lunch, we headed up the street to Brooklyn Pizza Gril & Pasta. It was a little chilly and overcast with a slight drizzle outside, but the wafting smell of fresh baked pizza, the heat from the ovens, and the cheery welcome from the staff was very welcoming. There are only a few tables and we perched on bar stools at the small table in the window as we chowed down on delicious hot and greasy New York style pizza as upbeat salsa tunes encircled us. Fantastic!

That afternoon we had bookings for the Amish House & Farm tour. For some reason, I thought the tour meeting spot would be just nearby, and when I learned I had a 25-minute drive we made a hasty retreat over. I was a little surprised to find an 1805 farmhouse in a Target-anchored shopping center, but we ended up having a wonderful tour. We started with a 90-minute bus tour through the surrounding countryside accompanied by commentary from the guide on the history and culture of the Amish. We made three stops at Amish businesses along the way. At the first we never even got inside the store as the small petting zoo with adorable goats, the soft pretzel stand, and the large bin of free pumpkins kept C and I plenty busy during the 15-minute break. The second stop was a small single-family run housefront store with handmade goods, many made by the family’s children. At the third, we spent nearly the entire time in the barn as C and several other children from the tour oohed, aahed, and cooed over a little of adorable havapoo puppies for sale. Back at the farmhouse, we had the opportunity for a further 30 minute tour of a mostly typical Amish home. Though I think the puppies were C’s favorite (ok, maybe mine too), the tour was very educational for us both.

*Our “room” at the Red Caboose Motel at Paradise Station in Ronks, PA*

We were to also have a self-guided tour of the adjacent farm, but with the recent time with daylight savings, the farm was far too dark to check out when we finished the house tour. We drove on to our hotel–the delightful Red Caboose Motel in Ronks, PA, where we would spend the next two nights in a renovated train caboose. We loved our room at once – it was cleverly converted and very cosy. C had her choice of 4 bunk beds but chose instead to squeeze in with me in the double; though she often asserts her independence, I think she might have been intimidated by her first stay in what essentially looked like a train yard. Dinner (and the following morning’s breakfast) was hearty portions of Americana in the Casey Jones’ restaurant where patrons sit in two train dining cars.

It is perhaps impossible to capture the pure joy of experiencing this view first hand – the crunch of frost covered grass beneath one’s feet, the evaporating chill still tingling the nose, and the calls of the boys to their horses in the fields

When we woke up the next morning there was frost and a fine mist hovering over the ground. Though chilly and in the upper 30s (Fahrenheit), the sun and sky were bright and clear. Before breakfast, I grabbed my good camera and did a perambulation around the property. The view across the fields was absolutely stunning. I do love our neighborhood in northern Virginia, but though the residential streets are tree-lined and there are plenty of parks, it cannot compare to the beauty of open land. I do not think I am designed for country living, but I sure do enjoy taking time to drink it in.

It was a very good tour. C, who has often seemed bored by house tours, was well-engaged by the former 5th grade art teacher turned tour guide. We were also a small group of six; in addition to C and I there were two 20-something male history buffs and, as luck would have it, a just retired Foreign Service couple. What are the odds? There were a few things that struck me as rather extraordinary about the tour: 1. the 20 minute introductory film makes no bones about the controversy surrounding the man and 2. that so much of the furniture and decor were not only original to the house and family but that we were free to move around (though not touch) the rooms. In nearly every home of a person of such historic value, the rooms are cordoned off in some way, with either carpet runners you must stay on or by stanchions or plastic barriers that allow guests only too close.

We crisscrossed the county again, grabbed lunch at a small mom & pop taqueria, and then headed to the Strasburg railroad where we would board a luxury lounge car for a leisurely 45-minute out-and-back ride on the country’s oldest continuously operating steam train. C’s pre-teen tendencies were beginning to show as she grumpily dropped into her velvet armchair; though the fun of an historic train ride did not perk her up, an cold tea and an M&M brownie did the trick and soon enough she conceded it was sort of interesting. I enjoyed the ride, though would have liked it more had it been a wee bit longer. It felt that as soon as we got going it was time to turn back and then it was over.

After breakfast, C and I headed to Wheatland, the preserved home of the 15th President of the U.S. James Buchanan. Buchanan, thus far the only bachelor president and the only one from Pennsylvania (though some are now divided on that President Joseph Biden was born and lived the first decade of his life in the state before his family relocated to Delaware), was a controversial figure who, though an accomplished statesman, is probably most remembered (when he is remembered) for presiding over the succession of the southern states and the start of the Civil War, which began just six weeks after he left office.

After the train ride, we drove along the back country roads visiting a few of Lancaster’s covered bridges. I had not realized at first that there would be so many such bridges as they are often more associated with New England, but there are at least 20 of them in the county. We passed by four of them, but it was the Kurtz Mill Bridge, dating from 1876, that provided the best opportunity to really see a covered bridge due to its location in the county’s central park.

*C leaps at the Kurtz Mill Covered Bridge*

On Sunday morning, I took one last stroll around the Red Caboose Motel grounds, listening for the clip-clopping of the Amish carriages on their way to a friend’s or neighbor’s home. C and I then packed up and made one final stop in Lancaster, so I could take a photo of the Lancaster County Prison, which the mid-18th century town leaders decided should be built like an English castle. Just another unique feature of Lancaster, I suppose.

I was reluctant to depart and head home; it was a great weekend away.

October 1, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part Seven: More Alsace & the Finale

The seventh and final installment of our summer 2023 European adventures.

From the Haut-Koenigsbourg Castle I drove to the little village of Riquewihr, which dates from the medieval period and is considered among the most beautiful villages of France.

The little town square in Riquewihr, with several Alsatian half-timbered houses dating from the middle ages and in the background, down a little street, one can make out the green vineyards rising beyond

The village is quite small, with a population around 1,000, though there were at least a few hundred other tourists milling about its car-free cobblestoned center. We come to see the beautiful Alsatian homes from the 15th to 18th centuries and the 13th century defensive gate. Having been spared terrible damage from the second World War, the village is a well-preserved representation of its medieval self.

*The perfect combination of delicious Alsatian baked goods in a traditional Alsatian-decorated store*

It was 3 PM by the time I arrived and I was hoping for a nice restaurant meal with alfresco seating. Unfortunately, the village’s small size dictated its restaurant limitations; though there were still a good handful or so, many were closed for the period between lunch and dinner. The few open appeared to have much the same menus of heavy pork or duck sausages, veal head or kidney, Alsatian tarte flambees, and sauerkraut. Yet there were also shops of baked goods, preserves, sweets, and beer. Riquewihr items must be in demand as I saw them sold prominently in other locations around Alsace. The best of course, in my humble opinion, were the big German pretzels, with their brown, crispy, salty-crust and the light and soft insides. And as it started to rain again, I had the perfect meal of a delicious soft pretzel for 1 euro and a Diet Coke, standing under the eaves of a medieval house. My previously empty stomach and my traveler’s heart were deeply satisfied.

The rain let up again, enough for me to wander a bit more to see the 13th century Dolder tower, but the clouds opened up once again and soon enough the tourists, including myself, were huddling in the small passageway under the Tower or pressed back against the houses to get coverage from the narrow eaves. I made my way down the street, running from eave protected location to another, until I made it to the gelato shop. I had my dessert under the tarps of a small market and then ran for my car.

*Storks are historically a symbol of Alsace as they represent fertility, good luck, good harvest, and wealth – these are just a few of the stork-related items in Colmar*

I drove the 30 minutes to Colmar, my next stop, where I would be staying the next two nights. I had a little trouble navigating to my central hotel given the many streets under some construction. Then parking too was problematic. There was only a small public parking lot on the one way street in front of the hotel that was full upon my arrival. I drove around the block (which was much trickier than it sounds) to try again. And again. The third time was not the charm. The hotel then arranged for me to park at a small garage nearby – maneuvering the car into that narrow single garage required a lot of focus on my part! I finished off my day with the best caprese salad I have every tasted in a small Italian restaurant.

I spent the whole of the following day touring the streets of Colmar on foot. I started just outside my lovely historic hotel in a house dating from 1565 directly on one of the canals of Colmar’s Little Venice. I made a booking for a canal tour for the early afternoon, then set off to explore.

*Love locks along one of Colmar’s canals*

I was in my element. One thing that I really love to do is to take a long wander through an attractive city, even better if its culture and history are strongly on display. Colmar had this in spades. Around every corner, indeed after every few steps in the old city center there was yet another delightful sight from flowers beds along the canal, the steeple of a lovely old church, an ornately painted house façade, a stork decoration. I just kept walking. After lunch I enjoyed the 30-minute canal boat tour, and then went right back to pounding the streets on my own two feet. I spent an hour in the Bartholdi Museum, dedicated to the life and works of August Bartholdi, the creator of the Statue of Liberty, located in his childhood home.

I really do not know quite how it happened, but when I think back now it seems incredible that I only spent one full day in Colmar. Like Strasbourg, I packed so much into that single day.

*The town square of Eguisheim – look closely and see the stork nests and storks atop several buildings*

On the Thursday I departed Colmar and drove to another of the small beautiful medieval villages of Alsatian fame, Eguisheim. The area around the village is one of the oldest settlement areas in Alsace and the origins of the village date from the year 1257. It is a wonderful example of a typical medieval village of tight concentric circles around a square complete with a fountain, church, and enough space for a market.

When planning my trip, I had not done as much research as I might normally do. After all, my solo trip in Alsace was at the end of a pretty elaborate multi-week journey. I knew Eguisheim was a must see and I diligently added it to my itinerary, but it was rather like “set it and forget it” until I found myself parking outside the outer rim of the original village. I walked into one section of the outermost circle, and while it had a lovely old fountain and a few pretty buildings, it was not blowing me away. The sky was again overcast and I felt a bit tired. I looked up though and saw a large nest atop a nearby house and then to my astonished eyes, a stork stood up in it, then spread its wings, and flew.

I turned down a very narrow street, about the width of a car (though I certainly would not want to drive it). There was a funny little store dedicated entirely to mushrooms – edible goods and mushroom-inspired art and knick-knacks. The local government had cleverly set up little historic markers throughout the village for tourists to learn a little here and there about unique architectural or cultural quirks one might find. That circle opened up to a main street and I followed it to the village’s center square and here it really did blow me away. I spent about an hour exploring and then I had to bid farewell and drive on to Nancy, two hours away.

*An insect hotel in the Parc de la Pépinière*

I arrived in Nancy, France just in time to enjoy a lovely alfresco lunch near the main square. Once again the stormy clouds had dispersed and the sky was blazing an almost unreal blue. After lunch I strolled around the 18th century Place Stanislas, conceived and inaugurated by Stanislaw Leszczynski, the last Duke of Lorraine, in 1755. The square is considered the most beautiful in France and is part of the UNESCO World Heritage Site designation for Nancy. It is bordered by elaborate gates and fountains and a triumphal arch, its golden buildings excellent examples of 18th century urban architecture. I thought I could sit there all day and just drink it in. But frankly, after all the go-go-go of the previous days and weeks, a full and content belly, and the strong sun, I just wanted to take a nap.

Unfortunately, when I woke up it was late afternoon and the grey clouds had rolled back in. I did take a walk again to the square and then to a nearby church and finally a supermarket to grab some food to eat in the hotel room. In every long trip there should be a day or two of lazing about, and I had not had that at all — so I made the time to just relax. I was also missing my kiddo.

I had to leave on Friday afternoon to make the 2 1/2 hour drive back to the Euro Space Center for the end of camp presentation, so I did not have much time. I needed to get myself into high gear and do another quick a la Amazing Race tour. As it was lightly raining again, I decided to jump on the little tourist train, which in 45 minutes would take me on a guided tour to all the main sights. That tour then told me exactly where I would want to go back on an additional speed walk tour – to see the Port de la Citadelle and the Port de la Craffe, restored gates of the 14th century defensive wall, into the Basilica of Saint Epvre of Nancy, along the Place de la Carriere (part of the UNESCO designation for Nancy), and then through the Parc de la Pepiniere, where among the trees and flowers is a statue by Rodin.

*I loved this tomb carving in the Basilica of Saint Epvre, like the Thinker in death (he is still thinking!)*

Nancy, too, was worth more time than I could give it, but I am glad I was able to see it in both sunshine and rain.

I drove the two and a half hours to the Euro Space Center through some rather heavy rains to arrive just in time to see the student end-of-camp rocket launch and the presentation of certificates. Last year the launch of the student-made rockets had been cancelled due to a heat wave and very dry conditions; this year they launched in a fine misty rain. All the kids reported having had a great time (though they all disliked the food). We all got the kids packed up, let them say their goodbyes, and hustled them off to the cars as we had a four-hour drive back to the Amsterdam airport. C once again rode with her cousins, so I had a bit more solo time on the road, which was just fine. Little did I know that I would get my second speeding ticket of all time on the highway outside of Rotterdam – I received my ticket, for driving 5 miles over the speed limit, when I returned home.

We had one more day in the Netherlands before returning to the States. Though it was once again overcast, we headed to the village of Zaanse Schans, just 10 miles north of Amsterdam. When I had started planning this part of our trip, I had hoped we could take a bicycle tour to the village as I had done when I visited in the late 1990s, because it was a place where we could see three quintessential symbols of the country: windmills, a cheese factory, and a wooden shoe factory. Unfortunately, the bicycle tours had a minimum age of 12, so C and her cousin AH were too young. But we worked out an easy enough way on the trains, which honestly allowed us to sightsee on our own timetable.

The sightseeing started off with us (and the hundreds of other tourists there) huddled under our umbrellas, but once again the gods of weather cleared the skies. Honestly, we had the most wonderful weather for the entirety of the three and a half weeks. Even when it rained, it always cleared up, in every location, for at least a few hours of glorious sunshine.

Thus, we spent several hours in Zaanse Schans, strolling past the windmills, learning about the process to make Edam and Gouda cheeses (and enjoying some samples), checking out the history and methods to make wooden shoes, touring inside one of the windmills, and enjoying hot chocolate and a delicious lunch. It was the perfect last day.

What an amazing trip! In the end, C visited a total of six countries, and I visited seven. We were able to meet up with our favorite travel buddies, CZ and Little CZ, and spend time with my sister and her family. We traveled by plane, train, bus, funicular, skylift, canal boat, cruise ship, subway, car, and on foot. C spent another week at the Euro Space Camp, this time with her cousins and where she made new friends – one of them is from, can you believe it?, Luxembourg!

It took a lot of work to plan and execute this trip – so many details and logistics! I loved it of course. I truly believe that planning a trip can be almost as fun as taking it, but I think the next trip will involve fewer moving parts! Maybe.

September 27, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part Six: Strasbourg on My Own

The six installment of our summer 2023 European adventures.

*The stunning beauty of Strasbourg, including the beautiful Alsatian buildings*

After I made sure that my daughter C was settled into her dormitory at the Euro Space Center summer camp in Libin, Belgium, I set off on my solo journey; I had a four hour drive ahead of me.

I drove west from Libin back to through Luxembourg once again, my third time that day, skirting the capital and heading south. Then I drove into Germany, my second time that day, though further south than Trier. With little to mark European borders these days, it was the switch from a speed limit marking on my GPS to none, signaling I had arrived on the speed limitless autobahn. Then past passing north of Saarbrucken I turned south and crossed into France. I had no plans for the rest of the day other than arriving at my hotel; only I wanted to do it before dark. But it was northern Europe in midsummer and the sun would set close to 9:30 PM, so I had time.

*Alsatian buildings are often adorned like this one in the Strasbourg city center*

I love the late nights of summer. I have spent a lot of time in countries and locations within 15 degrees of the equator – Hawaii, Indonesia, Philippines, Singapore, Malawi, Guinea – where the length of the day remains fairly constant throughout the year. Behind the wheel I drank in the soft golden glow of the sinking sun of early evening on the green fields and large barrel rolls of hay set at intervals alongside the highway. And then on the rooftops of small villages as I approached my destination on smaller roads.

My destination: Strasbourg, the capital of the historical and cultural Alsatian region of France. I have long wanted to visit Alsace; I am a big fan of history and the political battles over Alsace figure prominently in European history. The back and forth between France and Germany has created a unique blend of the two countries’ influences.

I arrived just in time to check in to my hotel and to watch the tendrils of sunlight disappear over the cathedral. And then the rains started.

*I waited patiently for the crowds to disperse to get this evocative shot of the Strasbourg Cathedral*

On Monday morning, I woke early to grab food and get a head start on my sightseeing but found that it was pouring rain. We had had good weather for just about every day of our trip thus far so it was bound to happen, but I was disappointed nonetheless. Slowly eating breakfast with an eye on the weather paid off as the rain slowed enough to allow for a walk. I grabbed my umbrella and walked the 15 minutes to the city center. Even under grey skies, the old town is stunningly beautiful. The largely late-Middle Ages built, half-timbered homes with their steeply pitched roofs and dormer windows, decorative and decorated facades, and creative old-fashioned business signs standing alongside canals or huddled together tightly on cobblestone streets were delightful. I tried to make the most of walking along the streets, but there were a lot of tourists and it was not easy to manage crowded, narrow medieval streets with umbrellas. And honestly, the architecture begs one to look up, which even the light rain made difficult.

I joined the long line to enter the imposing Strasbourg Cathedral, a masterpiece of gothic art that is also a centerpiece of the city’s UNESCO World Heritage Site status. Construction began on the cathedral in 1015 and was completed in 1439. From 1647 to 1847, the cathedral held the title of the tallest building in the world. I have been to many of the world’s tallest buildings, but the Strasbourg Cathedral is still one of the most architecturally ingenious in its gothic beauty (and it remains the sixth-tallest church in the world and the tallest surviving structure built entirely during the Middle Ages).

*The money shot – good luck coins tossed on the cap of one of the Cathedral statues as I descended*

Once inside the church I realized the dim lighting, the more so for the grey skies, and the crowds of people driven to seek sightseeing out of the rain, was not something I wanted to deal with right then. Instead I wandered the quieter streets in the historic area for some time and then sought out a small Italian place where I nursed a delicious bowl of steaming pasta and a cup of tea for a little while. Then with it still drizzling, I headed back to my hotel room to sit by my balcony with a good book.

I, and every other tourist in Strasbourg, could not believe our good luck when that afternoon all of the rain clouds dispersed to be replaced by stunningly azure skies. Not wanting to miss any more time exploring the city, I set off, returning first to the cathedral. This time I opted to head for the side door where I could pay a small entrance fee to climb the 332 steps of a narrow, winding staircase to the viewing platform 216 feet above. The staircases (one for up, one for down) are on the exterior walls of the cathedral with lots of windows given the climber regular views, higher and higher, above the square, until the breathtaking panoramic view across the city at the top. The trip is not for the faint-hearted, especially those with a fear of heights, given the regular reminders of just how far up one is from the ground. I had to make way for one of those individuals, a pale and distressed young woman, clearly desiring to return to ground level as soon as possible, who was descending the up staircase.

Afterwards, I headed to the Petite-France, one of the most picturesque parts of the already picturesque Grande Ile of Strasbourg. Petite-France, once the home of the city’s tanners, millers, and fishermen, where channels and canals, fronted by some of the best of the city’s medieval Alsatian homes, are crossed by charming little bridges. I did not visit any museums; I just walked. By now it was 7 PM, so most places were closed, but with the long day, the early evening sun basked the city in a bright golden glow. I walked through the town sights for as long as I could with good sunlight.

*Part of the astronomical clock, showing the day of the week*

The following day, Tuesday, the morning was again overcast with light rain. I headed out early to the Cathedral once more. At the 8:30 AM opening there was no line and I was one of the first people inside. I took 30 minutes to peacefully explore, making sure to visit the extraordinary mid-19th century astronomical clock that tells the time, solar time, and date and features stationary and moving figures. Then it was time to leave. I made it back to the hotel to pack up though my departure was delayed due to a sudden strong downpour. Things were again looking poor on the weather front, but after 30 minutes, the skies cleared and I headed on to my next destination.

I had just an hour’s drive to the Chateau du Haut-Koenigsbourg, a medieval castle built on a strategic rocky promontory 2500 feet above the plains. The nearly 1,000-year-old castle is reportedly one of France’s finest examples of a mountain fortress and also one of Alsace’s most visited sites. Unfortunately for me, despite the dodgy weather report, no one seemed put off visiting. Near the top of the mountain, traffic slowed to a crawl as the cars ahead waited for a parking spot. I sat in my car, inching forward each minute, for at least an hour (!) before finally scoring a coveted spot, still a good 10-minute walk downhill from the castle. Inside the line for tickets was also long and it took at least half an hour for me to get mine. Then, just as I entered the castle, it began to rain.

*A view of the Haut-Koenigsbourg Castle and the Alsatian plain*

The first part of the visit involves some courtyards and drafty, covered areas open partially to the elements. For the first time during my trip, I felt chilled. It had always been a possibility in northern Europe, even in summer, to be cold. Years ago, when I first traveled to Amsterdam in a late 1990s July, I arrived with just shorts and T-shirts and was forced to buy some pants and a sweatshirt that I ended up wearing for three straight days to be warm. I had packed a pair of sweatpants, a sweater, a rain jacket, and a fleece to prepare for the possibility of cooler weather, especially in Norway, but had unfortunately left all these accoutrements in my car. I ducked into a covered corner for a good 20 minutes to wait out the worst of the rain.

Luckily, after running across an open and wet corridor, the next part of the castle was largely indoors. And by the time the tour spilled out into the open again the rain slowed and then stopped and the sun came out again. It was there to light my way down the mountain and on to the next destination.

September 24, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part Five: Luxembourg Plus

The fifth installment of our summer 2023 European adventures.

*C lounging in the courtyard of the Saint-Jean-du-Grund* *Church across from the promontory rock of the Ville Haute*

Early on a Friday morning, my daughter C and I left our Amsterdam hotel and my sister, brother-in-law, and their two kids left theirs, and we headed to the airport to pick up our respective rental cars. It was time to depart for Luxembourg.

Last year, while C did space stuff at the Euro Space Camp in Belgium, I went off on my own adventures in Luxembourg and Belgium. My geography-obsessed kid was not too pleased I had popped over to another country without her. Before this trip, C, at age 11, had visited 29 countries and distinct territories. She wanted to visit more and and she told me she would very much like to visit Luxembourg. I had had such a wonderful time in the country the year before I decided to make it happen, and my sister and her family were happy to join in.

*The back entrance of the Grand Ducal Palace*

We had a four hour and a half hour drive from Schiphol Airport to Luxembourg city. After taking nearly all other forms of transport (train, taxi, ship, and bus), I was glad to get behind the wheel. I opted for the slightly longer drive through Luxembourg from the north rather than skirting the border, continuing through Belgium, and entering Luxembourg through the west. As we would be sightseeing only in the capital, I wanted C to have the opportunity to see a bit more of the country as we drove through.

Both our families arrived in the city at the same time and checked into their respective hotels, just five minutes walk from one another. We all grabbed some light snacks and then headed across La Passarelle, the famous 19th-century bridge/viaduct that connects the Ville Haute, the historic city center or Upper Town, with the central railway station, spanning the Petrusse valley. I was giddy with excitement to show my family the beautiful old town I had fallen in love with the year before. I pointed out the lovely hotel where I had stayed at, the entrance to the elevator parking garage (though it was blocked off – we could not have experienced that unique parking situation this year!), the pedestrian street I had inadvertently driven down thanks to Google maps, skirted the Grand Ducal Palace, and so on until we arrived at the meeting place for our 4 PM tour of the palace on Guillaume II Square.

*Delicious goodies at the Chocolate House Nathalie Bonn*

Last year I had not anticipated the popularity of Grand Ducal Palace tours. The palace is only open to the public for six weeks each summer when the Grand Duke is away (it is not an official residence but instead where the Grand Duke conducts royal business). Still, I had mistakenly thought I could just roll into town and get a tour for the next day or day after. Well, I was able to get a tour, but in German as the English and French tours were sold out. This year I was determined not to make the same mistake, and I checked the tourist office’s website regularly waiting for the day tours would go on sale and weeks ahead of our arrival grabbed an English tour for all six of us. I am not sure the kids were all that enthused with the tour, but I know first hand it is so much more interesting when one understands the language. And as luck would have it, we were treated to a visit to a wing with guest accommodation that had been closed off to visitors the year before. These are sumptuously decorated multi-room suites for official dignitaries visiting the Grand Duchy. While my travel companions may have been just merely interested, I was over the moon.

*C enjoys a playground in the courtyard of the 16th century monastery now housing the Theatre des Capucins*

Afterwards I showed everyone the famous Chocolate House located just across the pedestrian street from the palace’s back entrance. Entranced by the goodies on display, we all decided we needed to have a little something. Then we strolled around the old town; it really is a beautiful place where the city has so wonderfully combined the hundreds of years old buildings with the modern. We dined that evening alfresco in the Place d’Armes, a beautiful central square dating from 1671, while listening to a small orchestra play in the raised and covered stage at the square’s center, in the shadow of the elegant neo-baroque city administrative building. The weather was warm, the sky blue, and the late setting summer sun perfect for our evening.

The following morning I picked up my fellow travelers at their lodging–C had opted to spend the night with her cousins, an on-holiday sleepover–and we headed to the Ville Haute again. I had scored timed entrance tickets for the self-guided Bock Casemates tour. This was another lesson from my mistakes of my Summer 2022 visit when the Bock Casemates were closed for renovation and the Petrusse Casemates were sold out for not only my visit but for the next three weeks.

I think everyone enjoyed the Bock Casemates more than the palace. Not that the palace tour is uninteresting, it isn’t, but given its a royal residence, the tours are tightly controlled: no photographs and everyone must stay in a group visiting only certain rooms. On the other hand, the casemates are an extraordinary network of underground tunnels where we could wander at will. Sure they have history, first built in 1644 and then expanded under various European regimes into one of the continent’s greatest military defense systems, but for today’s visitors it is the 10 miles of tunnels with rooms, staircases, deep wells, and galleries with cannons and stunning views over the lower city that make it not only fascinating but fun, especially for pre-teens. We easily spent at least 90 minutes in the casemates.

We spent the rest of the day touring the city. We had a lunch of food from the Monoprix supermarket in the Place Guillaume II, next to a small children’s play area. Then we visited the Notre Dame church in the high town, climbed down the stairs from the Pont Adolphe to walk through the Petrusse Valley park until we found a yet another playground on the banks of the Alzette River. The kids played there for at least an hour, including my nephew joining in on a soccer game with some local boys. It was difficult to tear them away! We walked through the lower town by the river, visiting the the Saint-Jean-du-Grund Church and then returned to our respective hotels via the pathways beneath the Bock casemates, again up the steep steps to the Ville Haute, through the old town, and across La Passerelle bridge. We most certainly got our steps in that day!

*The amazing Porta Nigra under stunning azure skies*

The following day, Sunday, we were to drive the kids to the Euro Space Center in southern Belgium for their five day space camp. Initially, I had proposed we spend the day in southern Belgium at a castle town near the French border. As the days approached, however, I felt less and less keen on the idea. It was a small town indeed and I was not sure the kids would take to yet another castle and wondered if we would find a good lunch spot that would satisfy us all. I recalled as C and I had drove toward Luxembourg City from the north I had seen a road sign heading to the west, to Trier, and I realized the German town

*Inside the Porta Nigra, 2000 years of history*

In 1998, I traveled from Frankfurt, Germany to Luxembourg City along the Moselle River with my aunt and uncle over a long weekend. Our focus was on the small, picturesque German towns, castles, and wineries along the river. It was our limited time in Luxembourg–focused more on a nice meal, a place to lay our heads, and my aunt replacing her Villeroy & Boch pottery–that led me to return in 2022 to finally see the old town. When I saw that road sign to Trier, I recalled that my aunt, uncle, and I had also stopped there during that late 90s road trip. Yet, all I could remember from our Trier stopover was seeing the exterior of the Porta Nigra, stopping for a bathroom break at McDonald’s, and a traditional organ grinder with a monkey. That seemed woefully thin for a visit to German’s oldest town.

Everyone agreed that Trier sounded far more interesting than another castle town.

Trier is an old, old city; founded by the Celts in the 4th century B.C. and then conquered by the Romans in the 1st century B.C., the Romans made the city one of its four capitals during the 3rd and 4th centuries A.D. The city is full of sites and architectural styles through the ages from Roman to Medieval gothic, Renaissance, Baroque, Industrial and modern. It is also the birthplace of Karl Marx. There are nine UNESCO World Heritage Sites in Trier located within just a few square miles. Trier packs quite a historical punch. And we were determined to see as much of it as we could in the little time we had.

We started with the most famous of Trier’s sites, the Porta Nigra, the 1st century A.D. Roman city gate. I know I saw it back in 1998, but we did not enter. This time we did. And it was extraordinary.

*The impressive central Haupmarkt square*

Then we needed to pick up the pace! We headed off toward the medieval Haupmarkt square, where I immediately had a flashback to 1998. I am really quite sure that then the tall white building with its steep black roof and orange portico arches used to be the McDonald’s where my aunt used the restroom and my uncle and I lay in wait behind the doors to surprise my aunt. The photo above does not give justice to the splendor of this square. But no time to linger!

*Our special travel friend, Radio Duck, in front of Belgium’s Euro Space Center*

We headed to see the Cathedral of Saint Peter; commissioned by Emperor Constantine, it is the oldest church in Germany. Then we were off to the Kaiserthermen, the ruins of a Roman bath complex. I thought at first that this would not be a place that would be of much interest to C and her cousins, until we found the subterranean corridors used to heat the water in the baths above (the Romans did not finish construction of the baths). Then the kids were off for an underground game that seemed to be a mix of tag, hide-in-go-seek, and Marco Polo. Unfortunately, our time was short, so we rounded them up and then sped walked back to the city center via the gardens of the Electoral Palace, reportedly one of the finest Rococo-style palaces in the world.

It was really fun doing this Amazing Race-style of speed sightseeing with my family. We finished our break-neck paced tour of Trier with a wonderful traditional German lunch of bratwurst, schnitzel, fries, pretzels, and apple strudel. Then, sadly, we had to leave. There is so much to see in Trier and I know I would have liked more time – two or three days more – but we made a valiant effort in our four and a half hours.

C joined her aunt, uncle, and cousins in their car as we drove back across Luxembourg and to the Euro Space Center where we dropped off all three kids for camp. Then my sister and brother-in-law departed for a romantic getaway sans the kids and I turned my rental car southwest for my own solo journey.

September 20, 2023 by trs

The Amazing Summer 2023 European Vacay, Part Four: Amsterdam

*The Netherlands is known for so many things: tulips, wooden shoes, windmills, dikes, canals, cannabis, the Red Light District, and bicycles.*

The fourth installment of our summer 2023 European adventures.

On a Tuesday morning, C and I and I headed to St. Pancras station to board the Eurostar train to Amsterdam. I had long wanted to travel through the Chunnel and here we were doing it. I must say it was rather anticlimactic. The train went into a tunnel. At first I thought it a normal tunnel, but then it seemed to go on for awhile. And then we came out after some time and the conductor announced we had arrived in France! I must have been so engrossed in reading and talking with C that I had not realized the tunnel lasted half an hour. No matter, I suppose, we still took a train under the English Channel and the whole journey to Amsterdam passed by quickly and in comfort.

We were met at the train station by my sister CH1, my brother-in-law CH2, my niece NH and nephew AH. They helped us to drag our belongings to our hotel. As I had booked C’s and my trip first and given that family-sized rooms are less common in Europe than America, we were not at the same hotel, but within a quick 10 minutes walk from one another. Luckily, my sister and family had arrived a few days before, so, like us, were mostly over their jet lag.

*One of the unique sculptures in the grounds of the Moco Museum* *– displaying how people these days have basically planted their faces into their cell phones*

After getting checked-in at our hotel, we all walked to De Carrousel Pannenkoeken for lunch. The restaurant is located by a park in an old-fashioned carousel house complete with a small merry-go-round at its center. It serves Dutch pancakes, poffertjes, and Belgian waffles all day long. My sister had a list of foods she planned to try on the trip and poffertjes were at the top. My sister did not end up caring for them much, but I found them delicious.

Strolling in the museum area, we stopped for 20 minutes or so at the Moco Museum, which features modern and surrealist art, to check out the interesting sculptures in its forecourt. Our next stop was the Van Gogh Museum. My first and only other visit to Amsterdam was in the summer of 1999, when I visited on a trip from Japan, where I was teaching English. The Van Gogh Museum stood out as a highlight of that trip and I put it at the top of the list of sights to see this go round. I have only photos of paintings, which can be seen a million times over online or on postcards or other decorative items, and a photo of the three kids sitting together in a corner of a viewing area – bored of waiting for the adults to finish viewing the art, they had figured out how to jerry-rig their audio guides to search the Internet for YouTube videos. Though we spent two hours at the museum and clearly the adults could have stayed longer, the kids were ready to go. Good thing I had booked our tickets two hours before closing.

*The National Maritime Museum housed in the Arsenal, a former storehouse of the Dutch navy dating from 1656, and a replica of the Dutch East India Company’s ship the* Amsterdam

My sister said she loved the grocery stores, so I suggested we get our dinner at one and sit in the park, like I used to do when I was a backpacker with far less disposable income. Then the plan was a stroll to the historic area before heading back to our respective hotels. Unfortunately, that historic area included the Red Light District. For some bizarre reason, I thought it would be okay to walk through with the kids, and in my defense, we were not the only people strolling with their children, but I had not remembered what the area was really like. Though the sun had not yet set, it was late in the day, and the crowds were changing. A block or two was all we managed and the kids were scandalized. Not my finest travel moment.

On our second day, we had tickets for City Sightseeing’s Hop On Hop Off Bus. I have taken this company’s buses in numerous cities and have found them generally a good deal and a great way for first timers to travel or those with a short time to get around to a city’s main sights. We rode a few stops and disembarked at the Amsterdam harbor front. We walked past the historic Arsenal building, now the National Maritime Museum, to the NEMO Science Museum.

*One of the extraordinary exhibits at the NEMO Science Museum*

Here was my thinking: Pop up to the roof of the NEMO, which is free and gives a spectacular view over the harbor, then maybe a bit of time in the museum. Here is what really happened: We went into the museum and the kids were blown away and ran off in all different directions, thus we spent HOURS there and it was very difficult to round up our minor travel companions.

After the museum, we headed back to the Hop On Hop Off bus stop. And we waited. And waited. And waited. And even once on, the bus stopped at a diamond center that offered a free tour; it seemed an odd item to include on such a trip and it seemed to take forever to get in and turn around in the parking lot. Additionally, the kids were not interested in listening to the on-bus commentary at all. I seemed to have engineered another vacation faux-pas.

After a late lunch at the Hard Rock Café (so that C and I could continue our tradition), we all meandered our way back to the train station area where we boarded the Lovers Canal Cruise, included in our City Sightseeing ticket. The boat could seat maybe 50 people and it was jam packed. We could not get any window seats nor sit together. The kids reluctantly sat next to a random couple and gave me the world wary glances of pre-teens and teenagers forced to take part in something they deemed beneath them. And they refused to wear the headphones for the commentary again. I thought the tour was just okay, but that I had missed the mark again.

After the canal cruise followed my sister’s suggestion and crossed town by subway to visit the Upside Down Museum. My sister is a photographer and is always on the lookout for places that provide evocative, curious, or fun inspiration. The Upside Down museum, chock full of interactive displays that created optical illusions or amusing sets, provided just that. I had hoped that we would focus more on sights that are quintessential Amsterdam or Dutch, but we had failed to get tickets to the Anne Frank House and the kids were chomping at the bit for something super fun. Thus, off we went. And we did have a lot of fun.

The next morning, our last full one in Amsterdam before our next phase, we headed to Muiden, a small town just 10 miles from Central Station. Originally, we had planned to rent bicycles and ride the 45 minutes there, but we were not entirely sure the kids would manage the distance well, especially with at least a third of the distance on roads. None of our kids have a lot of bicycle experience, especially on roads or in crowds and my daughter, having lived most of her life in places where she could not safely ride, had the least amount. Thus, instead we planned on public transport, walking first to Central Station, taking a train to Weesp station, and then a bus to Muiden town.

I wish our trip had been as smooth as that sounded. We had no issue getting to Amsterdam Central, nor issue getting the train to Weesp. It was from Weesp to Muiden that proved more challenging. As it turns out the bus would not come for at least 45 minutes. It was difficult to see the hundreds of bicycles right there at the station bike parking, that, had we had one, would take us just 15 minutes to ride to Muiden town. Or knowing the bus is just a 10 minute ride, once it arrived, of course. I popped into my Uber app and tried to order a car for six people, but though a driver initially accepted, our ride was cancelled about five minutes later. I booked another Uber and it showed he was on his way – arriving in about 20 minutes, most certainly from Amsterdam. Once the Uber driver arrived he refused to take all six of us, so my brother-in-law and niece volunteered to take the bus, now arriving in just ten minutes.

Our destination was Muiderslot or Muider Castle, which my sister had taken to calling Murder Castle (I have no doubt some murders occurred there). For some reason, I had not really thought of the Netherlands as a country of castles, but here was Muiderslot, one of the country’s most preserved medieval fortress residences, dating from 1280. Because it is one of the Netherlands most well-known castles and is in such good shape, it is often used in period dramas. Perhaps due to its popularity and proximity to Amsterdam, the castle is well set up for visitors with two routes to follow accompanied by an audio guide. I really enjoyed the tour and the kids also appeared entertained for nearly as much time as the adults. We were also once again blessed with gorgeous weather!

*Views of the the Muider Castle and garden at Muiden*

After our visit, we contemplated lunch in the little town but the options were limited and even more so were the kids’ agreeability. Considering also that the bus only returned to the train station once an hour, we checked our watches and decided to make a run through the town to try and catch the next one. We made it just in time!

Back in Amsterdam, we grabbed some food and then took the free ferry from Amsterdam Central across the River Ij. Once again, my sister had a brilliant idea of taking in the This is Holland activity. Similar to the Soarin’ ride at Disney, This is Holland takes visitors on a seated hang-gliding-like experience while viewing an IMAX movie of sites. This is Holland would take us over famous locations in the Netherlands.

Afterwards, C and I wanted to go up the next door A’DAM Lookout and ride the Over the Edge swing at it’s top. My sister and family were more keen to visit one of the nearby historic churches, so we parted ways.

*C and I soar over Amsterdam in the Over the Edge swing*

Having been on the world’s longest tunnel slide, it only made sense that C and I would try out Europe’s highest swing. I had only learned about it two days before, but figured if given the chance we should ride it. I thought it might be hard to convince C, but she agreed right away, and even when we stood there in line at the top of the A’DAM Lookout, she was nonplussed. I was a little nervous, but after not taking the zipline in Olden, Norway, I thought I needed to give it a go. The Over the Edge sits on one side of the rooftop, and it rocks people back and forth over the edge of the building, 100 meters in the air for one minute. I would not have minded had it been, oh, 15 seconds shorter, but it was exhilarating, and I am so glad that C and I did it together.

It was a great way to wrap up our stay in Amsterdam. The following day, we would head out on the next part of our adventure.

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