Monday started in typical fashion with K tackling her usual chores while I trundled off to Shane’s garage for a stretch. Loaded up our bags packed for four seasons and hopped in an Uber to YYC. After a nice lunch at the Vin Room (avec vin), we settled in awaiting our boarding call for the long KLM flight to the Netherlands. The flight was very full, but mostly octogenarians with a very audible contingent of infants and toddlers to keep us non-somnolent. My usual ability to fall asleep on a plane upon wheels up has abandoned me, we both got no winks over the next 9 hours on board. Arrival at Schiphol found no less than 79 (seventy nine!!!!) wheel chairs queued up to ferry the clan to their connecting flights (assuming connections because none of them wound up waiting forever for luggage with us at the carousel, and a clan because they all seemed to know each other - babies to nearly dead’s). Did I mention a long wait for luggage? The sign indicated that our flight was late (when it was actually early), and that all bags had been delivered to the “belt” already, which was clearly incorrect. Luggage arrived in fits and starts, but eventually our bags turned up after a seemingly interminable wait. Hiked over to the “App pick up point” and hailed an Uber to the fashionable Hyatt Regency Amsterdam. We were predictably moe, hongerig en dorstig, so we left our bags with the concierge and stumbled over to The Breakfast Club on Roeterstraat where we got an introduction to Dutch language menu’s and a lesson in patience - “no tipping” does have consequences! As we carried on our initial foray on the winding streets through the canal ridden central area of town, K started to fade a bit, said she felt like a zombie floating along in tow behind me. I was gobsmacked by the thousands of bicycles lining the sidewalks locked in place, many seeming to have been unmoved for decades.
Stumbled back to the hotel for a bevy and waited for our room to be ready. Found a Viking rep and got some intel on where the ship would dock, plus some advice on where to find a typically Dutch restaurant nearby. Once in our pleasant room overlooking a canal (shocker), K was out like a light while I was uncharacteristically wide awake. A quick rinse and short walk to the Albert Heijn grocery for water supply, woke K and prepared for the next feed. Turns out our walk along Roeterstraat needed a redo and we found our way to Cafe Plantage where we discovered Bitterballen - which reminded K of the Saucisse Lyonnaise, but for me, I did find this local delicacy to be edible. Otherwise, the meal was outstanding with pulpa en chorizo a great choice for me. We then decided to see if we could find an ADD at a speak easy since that is the current fad. And find one we did at the Pillow Hotel where the subterranean Fitz’s bar checked all the boxes. The tuxedo clad bartenders worked ignoring the only denizens (us) to a fine art, but we did enjoy a cocktail or two. Luca (who looked like Pascal to me) was a talented mixologist, but could have been much more attentive to his clientele, once more exhibiting a good reason not to tip hereabouts!
All in all, we had a great start to this adventure where I rediscovered my enthusiasm for exploring new frontiers - as this lengthy first post will attest. I was not that keen yesterday, but feeling much more better today!
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