Whoo whoo Chattanooga there you are!!

Well, it’s been a month since our latest adventure and I have yet to update. Let’s fix that, shall we?? Ton and I decided (you have my permission to read that as NICOLE decided), to take a trip to Chattanooga. Home of the Chattanooga Choo-Choo! Home of Lookout Mountain!!! Home of the Tennessee Aquarium!! Home of the Chickamauga Battlefield!! Home of the…well…LOTS of other things!!!
We drove out on Sunday, arriving in Chattanooga at a respectable 1:00pm and decided to head for the most depressing spot we could think of…a Civil War Battlefield where thousands of men lost their lives! What better way to spend a gray, chilly Sunday afternoon?? We stopped in the visitor’s center, watched the video (don’t bother. SRSLY) and spoke with the ranger on duty (bother. Ask question. Listen to this guy. He knows STUFF. Important stuff). I asked about walking trails and was informed that the park is over five thousand acres criss-crossed with trails but it had rained so hard the day before that we shouldn’t venture far from the pavement. Now, everyone reading this has a pretty good idea of how my mind works. I scoff at things like that. A little bit of rain was not going to deter me from my red-hot date with a genuine Civil War ghost! No sirree Bob. Ton and I set off on our drive around the park. The place is so huge that it takes 45 minutes to drive the entire route. We stopped at marker number one because I saw monument in the woods that I wanted to see!

You see, not long after the Civil War, the families of the regiments who fought in the area, Union and Confederate, gathered together and agreed to honor their dead with memorial statues of where each regiment fought and died. All through the forest, monument after monument! I wanted to see them. All of them. We were walking and damned be he that said we shouldn’t because of “a lot of rain”. So, we walked.
Pretty, see?

And we walked.

And then we came to the BIGGEST freakin’ bog I’ve ever seen. Water was ankle deep off the pathway, and the path itself was muddy. The place was a MOSH pit. Okay, the Park Ranger was right. (Found out later they had indeed had “a lot of rain”, to the tune of four inches in twelve hours). We walked back to the car and our drove around the park.
We did venture out at Wilder Tower to climb to the top of the eighty-five foot tall structure, dedicated to Col. John T. Wilder and his men. Looks forbidding, no??

I had my doubts. The sky was darkening and the stairs were a tight spiral and not well-lit by the narrow windows.

But Ton had a flashlight, so I agreed. I probably wouldn't kill myself. After all, the stairs weren't any worse than the ankle breakers I had encountered in Holland. Up, up, up the stairs…
(Okay, so this is a view from top, looking DOWN. Shoot me.)

To a great view of Chickamauga.

See the standing water among the trees??? Told ya it was a mosh pit!

I’m PRETTY sure that these marks were made by aliens. Or they’re junior crop circles made by teenage aliens who are getting their crop circle license.


Then there was a sign, very near Wilder Tower, that made Ton laugh. It was just an empty field marked with a sign on the site where the Union general Rosecrans had taken over a home and made his headquarters. He insisted I take a photo. Ton, not Rosencrans. He wasn't there anymore. I don't think Widow Glenn was very accomodating.



On the way back to the parking lot near Wilder Tower, we found a beautiful old tree, a little bit twisted, and clearly all alone. I can relate to that. I'm gnarly, I'm twisted and people tend to avoid me like I've got root rot. I've been called many things in my life, not all of them kind. But now, you can add tree hugger to the list.


Luckily for me, Ton is just as weird as I am.


As much as I like that tree, it was a cold, wet tree and it didn't make lovin' fun. Onward, we went to our last stop at Chickamauga, an old cabin that had served as a hospital.


If there was a ghostly presence, sure this would be the place to find it. I had been joking all along about ghosts, not ever having heard of a famous ghost story of the area, but I finally admitted to Ton, I simply didn’t feel any presence at all. It was a peaceful, beautiful place where very horrible things happened. But nothing scary remained. Later, of course, I found out it is one of the most haunted battlefields in North America. Goes to show you, I have NO psychic abilities. None. Zilch. Zippo. Nada. So don’t expect me to come to your house and give you a reading. Unless you want me to read dust bunnies or the latest issue of Us Magazine.

You probably don’t want Ton to do it, either. Come to your house, I mean. Would you really trust a man in your house who stands by a cannon and does this?

No?? Me neither.

Since we couldn’t find ghosts and we were reaching maximum history saturation, as well as maximum sock saturation (Let's state again because I believe in overkill, it was wet. VERY wet) we decided to venture into Chattanooga proper. We hopped back in the car, drove across Missionary Ridge and into downtown.

I knew I wanted to go to the Bluff View Arts District, so we headed their first. It’s very near the Hunter Museum and, of course, a few restaurants. That's right. I had an ulterior motive. I was starving. AND I had done my foodie homework and knew we should eat at Tony's Pasta Shop and Trattoria. Of course, I got my way.

The meal started with bread, made at the bakery in the same area. A decent white loaf that was tender with a light crumb and a nice chewier cibatta studded with garlic cloves. The oil wasn't great quality but it was fruity enough.


After that, Ton ordered a pasta salad (he stuck to his diet!).


While I had the Baked Pesto Chicken Ravioli, rosemary chicken ravioli and pesto cream sauce topped with mozzarella. It was FANTASTIC and went very well with the clean Sauvignon Blanc I ordered.


Clearly my diet was out the window. So I went for dessert, too. Bailey's Cheesecake. It was fantastic but after eating so little all day, the wine was hitting me too hard for me to remember to take a picture of it!!!!

We had to walk all that dinner off, of course, and opted to walk around the neighborhood and through a sculpture garden that looked out over the Tennessee River. It was gorgeous and I vowed to come back the next day to truly appreciate the art. But the city lights were pretty nice, all by themselves.


We also walked to the Hunter Museum, which was closed (you know that though because DUH Sunday night) but still had gorgeous outdoor sculptures to enjoy.


Ton was quite taken with the little structure with the brightly lit top(I call it the nuclear thingamabob). It was really cool, with little brass statues worked into the lattice. There were brass bells, artichokes, and other random things. You can't really see it well, but we tried to capture it.


And that, my friends, is a thoroughly detailed report of our first day in Chattnooga. The next day held more fun—a trip to the Tennessee Aquarium and another great meal. Oh, and a glimpse of that elusive choo-choo

If you want even more photos of Chickmauga (Chicka-make-a-move-a as I like to call it), you can view them on Flickr.

Egmond aan Zee. Day Three.

Wanna know what Dutch looked like as a baby?? Kinda like this.



Sunday morning, day three of our trip, started with another visit from the entire clan—including the twins! Wow. They're LOUD and rambunctious! But what do you expect from a Ton's namesake??

The family departed around noon and we were picked up by an old friend of Ton's, Michel, so that we could spend the afternoon with him, his wife, Denise and their little girl Is-A-Bella. That's how she said her name—totally adorable!!!

Went to their house in Purmerend, and headed out to one of their favorite spots, Egmond aan Zee, a little beach town a little over 50 km northwest of Amsterdam. It was a gorgeous afternoon so lots of people were out getting their last licks of summer. We had coffee at Het Wapen and enjoyed the sunshine. We also had the traditional dutch snack, bitterballen, meat so finely minced that it is almost a paste, mixed with spices, rolled in bread crumbs and deep-fried. Very good with wine and not bad with coffee, either! We also had kaas soufflés which isn't a soufflé at all, but puff pasty stuffed with cheese.

After that, we took a stroll on the beach so Is-A-Bella could play in the sand.



Beaches in Holland aren't like Myrtle Beach or the Outer Banks. They're wide—VERY wide. Take the visible amount of beach and multiply it by ten. That comes close to how wide it is. Seriously WIDE. And even though there was a storm over the North Sea, it never seemed rough.



Egmond aan Zee also has a lighthouse! Which, once again, is nothing like our lighthouses, Dutch lighthouses always seem terribly short and stumpy. Maybe Hatteras has spoiled me. I don't know.



This light house was named for a great sea hero (all Dutch heroes are Sea heroes. And they're all GREAT. Never forgot that while in the Netherlands. And for Gods sake, Do NOT talk about the war!!)



Jan Carolus Josephus van Speijk is famous because he blew up his ship and killed his crew rather than be taken by the enemy. More specifically, he despised the Belgians and their fight to separate themselves from the Dutch. So when his ship was blown off course in a storm and he made port in Antwerp, he blew up his ship rather than give it up to the Belgians. His famous quote is "Dan liever de lucht in" (better to blow up). He is deemed as so loyal to his country that the king decreed that the royal navy would forever have a ship named in his honor. Dutch boy just says he was crazy—if he wanted to kill himself that's great but his crew??? I kind of agree with van Speijk. Better to die like a lion than live like a dog.




You can see the rest of the photos on on my Flickr account, Be warned it's mainly family photos and shots of people you don't know!!

Day two-- Haarlem.

Saturday dawned with odd weather. Sunshine, followed by brief spits of rain. But if you let a little rain stop you in the Netherlands, you’ll stay home. All. The. Time. SRSLY. It can rain for two minutes and the sun burst through. Or it can drizzle miserably for hours. Netherlanders forge ahead. Just beware of puddles. And bikes that swoosh through them. Trust me. I found out the hard way.
Ton and I had planned to return to Haarlem on this trip. I love Haarlem. It is very old, very small and very, very beautiful. I had been to the Frans Hals museum, and St. Bavokerk (though I was glad to see that they had given the steeple a renovation and shiny coat of gilding) but I had never been to the Teyler’s Museum. It’s a science museum but the building itself warrants a visit.

Grand architecture at it’s finest! From the domed ceiling of the foyer,

to the intricately wrought floor grates,

everything is an exercise in perfection.
The Teyler’s Museum is the oldest museum in the Netherlands, having opened in 1794. I was very disappointed to learn that the oldest part of the museum, the Oval Room, was closed for renovations. But there was so much to see that I wasn’t disappointed for long. The collections of the museum are arranged chronologically, forming a tour of science and discovery through the ages.

Archaeopteryx



There's no interior lights in the majority of the museum. It was built before the electric lights and they want to preserve the original architecture as much as possible. Some evenings, they even do guided tours by torchlight! How cool would that be?!?

Almost as cool as running into someone you know while in a museum in another country! Which probably isn't all THAT cool when you hear it is Ton's sister, Marianne. But I was still very shocked when a woman waved at me (the Dutch aren't notoriously open and friendly with strangers) while I was walking down the aisle. It took a moment, and a double-take on my part for it to register. I was very happy she decided to spend her day off in the same museum. Serendipity, no??

Teyler's was having a special exhibition on the myth and mystique of an artist's studio but I was honestly so taken with the building, I could see very little else.
Especially this stairway to the second floor, which was closed for a private party. I was allowed to sneak up to the landing and take a few photos!








And the it was time to leave, via the grand entry way with its gorgeous carvings and dark wood.



After picking up our coats (yes we needed coats it was very cold and windy) we headed out into Haarlem, to wander around and just enjoy being in a city that feels so much like Antwerp but still decidedly practical and very, very Dutch.
The glory that is St. Bavokerk



See the blue sky in that photo? It is deceiving. It rained not twenty minutes after that photo was taken. I had to wear a hat. My poor hair stylist would be appalled by the state of my hair after THAT. We decided to forgo getting wetter and stop for dinner at an international fusion restaurant, Specktakel. Marianne recommended it and I have to say, she wasn't wrong to do so. The food was, well, spectacular.
It started off well enough-- a nice, warm loaf of crusty bread, fruity olive oil and a bowl of indian spice mix. Went very well with the wine!

Then the appetizers started arriving. And it got a little bit dicey. Looks harmless, no??

Mr. DeMille, he's ready for his close up:

Ton, not being much of a foodie, failed to read the complete description of his appetizer and was thus very surprised to see that his aged beef salad contained crispy crickets. I noticed it the minute they put his plate on the table but dismissed it as misshapen lumps of beef. Oh, no. They were crickets all right. He ate one before he realized it. The others were gently laid on the side of his plate. He said he was relieved when he found a second one. One cricket means the kitchen is dirty. Two crickets can't be a mistake!
My crab dim sum was much better.

As was Marianne's salmon tartar with caviar. Mmmmm. Caviar.

Ton's main course was much more sedate. Nothing had jumped on his plate that wasn't supposed to be there- just tandoori lamb, spiced potatoes and mango pickle!

Marianne had Miso cooked salmon that arrived in a beautiful bento box presentation.

I opted for Italian chicken saltimbocca. I was torn, though. I really thought about the Antelope sosaties. But after the cricket incident, I played it safe. Besides, it had Parmesan foam. Who could say no to that?!?! And aubergines, too. Mmm.

We all decided to have the chocolicious coffee—espresso, chocolate crème brulee, chocolate liquor and truffles.



After all that food, we headed back to the train station, taking the scenic route to walk off some calories. I present, Haarlem by night!

Teyler's Museum and Spaarne Straat.


Big, winged-foot statue!






(That's me walking down the street for a moody photo!)
We dropped Marianne off at the train station so that she could head home to Leiden. Then we hopped on the next bus to Amstelveen. It had been a great day—long and tiring but very good! And I leave you now with one last photo, complete with caption and jaunty hat!

Who watches the watchers??

(You can view the rest of the set, if you're so inclined, on my Flickr account.

Amstelveen. A look back at the trip that was...

Every year I head to Europe with the thought that I will update my blog as I go. And every year I fail miserably. It’s becoming so depressingly predictable as to be tradition. So here, once again, begins a retrospective of our trip.

On our first day in Amstelveen, we didn’t do much. I have to admit, I was busted from the flight. We came in, hugged and kissed everyone and went to BED. We got up around 14:00 and had a shower before venturing into the market in Amstelveen. Friday is market day, and it’s always a joy to spend time in European markets. Oh, and we ventured to Koolhaas for my first hazelnoot gebak of the trip. Koolhaas is truly a wonderful bakery—and the place that Ton’s family has always gone when they want a special treat. The quality is clear, the taste superior. But I was so busy eating the delicious hazelnut cream between layers of chewy meringue that I forgot to take a picture! In fact, I took no photos at all that day, other than the back garden at Mum and Pa’s.



And her gorgeous hydrangeas, still in full bloom!



The family came over that night and it was a gezellige evening with infant twin boys running wild and lots of laughter. And coffee. I didn’t sneak away once to escape. Not once! Even though Marianne had thoughtfully brought me a welcome present of mergpipjes and dropjes. Mmmmmmmmm.

It was probably the last quiet day we would have during the entire trip. The rest seems filled with friends, family, old favorites and new places to see!

Leaving on a ....corn stalk????

Greetings from the Netherlands!

Flight out went well-- PTI (Greensboro) is so tiny that it is virtually impossible to have trouble there. The only issue that came up was that Delta pulled me out of line because apparently Ton and I were already showing onboard the plane that was boarding!! That was quickly straightened out though. Our connection was in Atlanta. And there I was greeted with a strange sight.



Flying corn???



More like flying porn!!

Nothing like flying phallic corn to set the mood of a layover. I was hoping that our Airbus 330 was more fuselage than stalk. I didn't want to arrive in the Netherlands like an obscene Dr. Strangelove riding an ear of corn-- though such an entrance would be rather fitting here.

Never fear. It was fine.

Delta did do me the honor of misplacing my luggage. They decided my bag needed to be stashed in the basement for safe keeping. It must be that my underwear is too precious to be put the belt alongside that of the riff-raff. I felt honored. Once I got over the annoyance.

Now, it's time for me to head out for the day. Don't know where I'm going, but that's half the fun.

Tot Ziens!