Scrubbed and steamed

Baden-baden is a resort town built around some geothermal hot springs. First built up by the Romans and utilized as a getaway for kings and emperors, this beautiful place has the feel of old money. The combinations of restaurants and upscale shops felt like South Coast Plaza, for all you non-californians that's an uppity mall near the ocean.

The town was a short train ride away (remember that our hostel was right next to the station) and the spa was right near a large plaza. The Friederichsbad is a 150 year-old bath house with a four-hour regimen of hot and cold treatments, all for less than the cost of an hour at Massage Envy. Many days of the week, men and women are separate, but on Sunday the facilities are joined, so Devon and Matt spent their time together.

Did we mention we were naked the whole time? Yes, naked. It may be indelicate to say, but if we had our druthers, we'd be naked all the time. Except when its windy.

Both of us got the full package, including a soap and brush massage. The bespeckled man who scrubbed us down looked exactly like you think a German Masseuse would. Let's just say he was a man very comfortable "giving instructions". Ha, Germans are funny.

Devon got a soft brush, but Matt elected form the hard brush. He felt like a potato that was about to be wrapped in foil. We'd like to take a moment to memorialize all of the layers of skin that are no longer with him.

We came out relaxed, glowing and hungry. Dinner was traditional German food: meat in some familiar-yet-mysterious sauce, starch, and salad. With beer. Mmm, beer. Welcome to Germany.

An easy relaxing Sunday, with no particular hurry. On Monday morning, we catch our train to Paris. (As we write this, we are on that train, and we just hit 320 kilometers per hour).

Oh, and Devon found some German translations of American comics at a bookstore, so we got nerdy excited about that. Matt bought a Batman and stumbled through reading it to her while we waited for our return train.

Museum, pancakes, and trains

After a bakery breakfast, we spent most of Saturday at the Rijkmusuem, the Dutch National Museum. It turns out that the only tickets available for purchase are good for an entire year. Since we spent most of our time in the 17th Century and 20th Century sections, there is still more to see. We'll just have to come back, maybe in the winter.

We were due to catch a late-afternoon train to Karlsruhe, in Germany. After the museum, we made time for postcards and loaded up on pancakes, again. There is a certain regret with going to the same place twice when there are so many other options, but come on. Pancakes. We've said enough about that.

Saturday night was a long ride, with reading and puzzles. Matt decided to blow off writing, so there is a bit of delay in the posts. Karlsruhe is a handy base of operations for our spa day on Sunday in Baden-Baden.

We got there at 11:00pm, but the good news is that our hostel was literally right next to the train station. Also, the bad news is that our hostel was literally right next to the train station. Fortunately, one of our roommate's snoring drowned out the train.

I will write that again. The snoring of our roommate drowned out the noise of the trains arriving next door. Epic.

Spa day tomorrow! Aren't we fancy!

Walking and no pancakes

On the morning of Friday, June 14, the weather reminded our travellers of a February in Chapel Hill. It was grey and drizzling as we set out for Jordaan, a neighborhood of shops and artisans between the apartment and the city center.

We walked to Winkel, a cafe that had a top rating on Yelp, and had a light lunch and shared a piece of apple pie. The pie was to have been legendary, the best in the city; and it was, in fact... (wait for it) .... pretty good, really. Okay, it was legendary.

We have tended to mention the food in our travels often, and we will continue to do so. It's so satisfying to find the very best places, and a great meal so far from home is a great comfort. Service was very friendly, but slow, as was to have been expected. By the time we finished, we were raring to go.

Friday was to have been museum day, but the sun peeked out, and we spent most of the afternoon strolling. Winding our way through tiny streets, we found many crafts places (including a lovely yarn shop where Devon bought buttons for a scarf she is crocheting for Matt) and the Lambiek, which is the oldest comics shop in Holland.

We ended up delaying museum time to Saturday, because the clouds broke up more and more as the day went on.

At one specialty red light clothing store, the clerk took such a shine to Devon that she gifted us with a large 100-page, full-color catalog. Many of the models inside are adult-only, if you catch our drift.

After a long afternoon of walking, we returned to the apartment for a short nap. Matt got in touch with Verizon customer service and restored full functionality (yay!) to his phone. Hello walking *and* transit directions through google maps. The days of stumbling around are over.

We returned to the Leidesplan, because why not. Dinner at a little counter- service noodle place called Wok to Walk (think Noodles & Company with more customization) that was super-cheap and really hit the spot. More strolling, this time south to a giant plaza outside the national museum. The sun setting against the buildings was very romantic.

We enjoyed a quiet beer at an outdoor cafe near the concert hall, and at twilight realized it was already 11:00. We are so far north that the days are crazy-long. Neither of us felt like a party, so it was the tram and a short walk (without getting lost!) then bed.

Matt stayed up to do the laundry in the sink. How charmingly domestic.

Amsterdam night after a long day

Trista's flat, where we stayed for two nights, is on the western side of the city. It was outside of the usual tourist areas, just far enough to feel like a normal neighbourhood, but a short 20 minute walk to the heart of the city.

After a travel-day nap, we set out to explore during the evening of Thursday the 13th. Both Matt and Devon had been to Amsterdam and as we walked, the feel of the city -- interlocking canals and ring roads -- felt familiar. In what was planned as a one-time visit, we headed form the Leidesplan, a bright, busy plaza towards the southern edge of tourist zones.

Pedestrians definitely have the right-of-way in this city. Even the electric trolleys stop and clang their bells at wayward walkers, rather than try to push on through. This is great when walking around aimlessly, but it can be maddening when trying to ride somewhere. Leidesplan was a hive of tourists. It might be something like the Times Square of Amsterdam -- it's doubtful that any local would want to visit.

Rather than hit the bars, young and carefree travellers like Matt and Devon found our way to one of a bajillion coffee shops. Our first stop was to the Bulldog, a large multi-story trap of the plaza.

It was dark, loud, and kinda gross. We did not linger.

Just around the corner, though, there was a charming little spot right next to a canal. (To be fair, approx. 30% of all buildings at city center are next to a canal.) This shop, called Easy Times (so many names are hokey and obvious), was clean and quiet, and reminded us of the Orange County Social Club, Matt's favorite bar in Carrboro. Devon soon made friends with the man behind the bar, because she makes friends where ever she goes. We shared a space cake, which is a "special brownie", and were on our way, on the search for food.

We did not lack for options.

A few of Matt's friends may have heard about the amazing pancake place he ate at one time. Maybe too often. (Pancakes? Really? Can they be that good?) Such rave reviews; enthusiasm beyond the norms of decency and decorum.

It's now safe to say that the Pancake Corner is now one of Devon's favorite places on planet Earth. It's hard to convey how awesome this restaurant is, but suffice to say, they have over 70 different kinds. Including bacon, which Devon enjoyed. Matt has a honey and apple pancake.

Mainly because of pancakes, the Leidesplan, more than the red-light district to the north, would become the center of our Amsterdam

After pancake dinner, we paced a bit more, and decided to call it an early night. The walk back to the apartment was quite an adventure. Every canal bridge we came to elicited from Devon the comment: "Oh good. This looks familiar." Matt tried to caution that there were countless canal bridges, but it fell on deaf ears. Where there were no bridges, concern increased, and we pulled out the map, checked street signs to confirm that, yes, we were in fact going in the right direction. This reassurance was forgotten alarmingly quickly, and the cycle was repeated every 100 meters or so.

It took a while to get home.

Over the channel we go

The morning of Thursday, June 13 went by in a fog. We caught the airport bus in the dark just down the street from our Dublin hostel, and arrived at the airport as the sun was coming up.

The gate displays at the Dublin airport really make you wait for it. Most flights don't display their gates until 60 minutes before takeoff. The time of display seems to be about 20 minutes before the flight boards, so I guess for most flights, passengers just line up when they arrive at their gates. Maybe keeps people in the shops longer.

This morning though, in what turned out to be a glitch, as soon as our flight to Eindhoven showed the gate number, it immediately noted that boarding was in the final stages.

Dash down yards of corridor. At 6:30 in the morning. The exercise woke us up.

False alarm. We and 3 dozen other passengers arrived confused and hurried to see the flight before us lined up at the gate. We were still 50 minutes early.

The rest of the morning was a parade of transport that arrived with perfect timing, right in front of us, so that from plane to bus to train to bus, we never waited more than 5 minutes.

The train was much more comfortable than the plane. Because he is so old, Matt was only eligible for a train pass with 1st class access. No bargain ticket for him. What a burden. We sat in a "quiet" cabin, and Devon really like the sliding seat backs. We have a little splitter that lets us both use headphones to listen to one thing, and it's nice to share.

We'd made reservations to stay in the spare bedroom of an apartment in a quiet neighborhood in western Amsterdam. Matt couldn't read the tiny picture of a map section that we got with the listing, so we walked way farther than we needed to.

But everyone in Amsterdam speaks English, it seems, so we asked a nice person, and they whipped out their phone, and we were back on track. Remember, Devon's phone was gone, and Matt's was seemingly crippled (he learned how to enable GPS later, don't worry), but on Thursday, we had only our wits. Good thing we are witty.

Up to the apartment for a quick tour. A modern-ish building and Trista, our host is friendly. On Thursday afternoon, we would have Bern happy with a cot. We nabbed a quick picnic lunch from a grocery store, and sacked out for a bit.

By 4:00, we ready to hit the tourist traps. More on that later.

Here is a photo of Trista's apartment, with a snacking Devon.

Making Belfast-ade

It's what you do when stuck with Belfast.

Stuck with? Hardly. This place is beautiful. On version 1 of trip planning, Belfast was on the itinerary. After changing and having the plan, it was to have lost out to a trip to Giant's Causeway. Thanks to our Passport Adventure (see previous post), it's back on!

We left you last at an lovely b&b called Evelyn's in south Belfast. It was exactly lie the abridgment said, and better. We had or own room, Queen sized bed, beautiful shared shower/bathroom, and Evelyn was a doll. To make Devon even happier she had a super cute dog, named Carrie.

The night we arrived we found that in all the excitement we forgotten to eat lunch; and so, we walked through the botanical garden to the university main drag. There we found a lovely restaurant, with a happy hour special. After we ordered, the bartender came up and informed us they were out of bitters for matts drink. He changed his order, but got the the first one for free, as it had already been partially made. Free booze! Someone else had done the same thing, so they brought us that one too. 3 drinks for the price of one. Happy hour, indeed.

We stumbled our way home that night and fell asleep in our beautiful Victorian style room.

9am breakfast, and we were signed out by 1010. We retuned to the botanical garden to explore the beautiful green houses, and then headed into town. There we explored the historic city center, after dropping our bags off at the tourist info center. Linen public Belfast library, the craft store ( for some Irish made yarn) and an awesome tour of the Belfast City Hall.

At the city Hall, there was a behind the scenes tour. So many fancy rooms and portraits.

Soon we were of to the train station to board the enterprise again. We made or back to Dublin around 6. We stopped at the 1 euro store for pens and an umbrella. Checked into Ashfield House and then finished the day with wonderful Indian food on St. George's street ( the gayest street in Dublin).

Skipped with the parents and hit the sack. Wake up call is at 430am for or early flight!

This photo is of Devon in front of the City Hall. So charming.
Matt is in the throne of the Lord Mayor of Belfast, looking just a little too comfortable. We were soon asked to leave the tour because of trespassing. No, not really. Everyone gets a turn.

Friendly Irish cops and the American Consulate

The back of a Belfast police car. Behind the gates of the American consulate. You just can't buy this kind of access. Well, there is a cost for that kind of adventure.

The plan was to stop over in Belfast long enough to change from a train to a bus, and continue to Giant's Causeway, a natural rock formation on the northern coast. Our day bag holds some important things for Devon -- cash and credit cards, her phone and tablet, and passport. Did I say "holds"? I meant held.

Who knows where that bag is now.

A change of possession before using the restroom. A stop on the bench by the train tracks. A brisk walk through downtown Belfast. Only after we had traveled most of the way to the bus station did we notice the day bag was gone.

"I thought you had it." "I thought *you* had it."

Rats. A dash back to the train station. Even though we were gone for 20 minutes or so, pessimism won the day. No bag. Some morally compromised individual hit the jackpot.

Thanks to Devon's dad for cancelling the cards. Sorry we had to wake you up.

Belfast police are super friendly. It soon became obvious that we weren't going anywhere. It took a bit of time before we were able to file a report with an officer, as most are otherwise occupied. Thanks, Obama. (Google "Belfast G8 conference for more on that.)

When the hour grew late, the officer phoned ahead to the consulate to make sure they would stay open for us. And we got chauffeured in the back of his patrol car! He wasn't allowed to hit the lights, though, as apparently that is strictly regulated.

We are back in businesses. The consulate rushed a replacement, found us lodging for the night, and even gave us a lift to the random b&b in a lovely university neighbourhood.

It was an expensive mistake, to be sure. But we remain unbowed.  Matt's money belt held our tickets, 2nd cash stash, and other reservations, which meant those were still intact. The plan was always to have redundant resources so Devon and Matt back each other up. It was never the plan to blow through the backup on Day 2.

Onward and upward! We're still gonna do this thing.

This photo is the last image of the bag we have, and it shows Devon in front of our train, the enterprise. Live long and prosper.