We expected this trip to the Netherlands to be special, and it was. Our first family trip to the Netherlands, almost two years ago, opened our eyes to the joys and practicalities of family travel with small children. On this trip, I learned yet even more about the joys and practicalities of travelling with children -- this time, doing it without Mummy's help, while she stayed in London to study.
I had no expectations for this trip except to have fun. Like diners at an authentic sushi restaurant putting their experience in the chef's hands (omekase), so we were all putting ourselves into Gugu's hands, she being the veteran Dutch traveler. Along for the trip with Bob, Gugu, and me were Uncle Kevin, Lincoln (on his first European trip), and Nainai. The itinerary would include Delft, Rotterdam, flowers, and Amsterdam.
At the table in our Delft apartment, a little Dutch boy waits for his family to wake up. The street and canal out the window is Hippolytusbuurt, one of the central and oldest canals in Delft. He helped to buy the tulips at the central market.
Looking down the Hippolytusbuurt for boats in Delft.
Finding some time to bounce at the Playground Speelplaats Amstelveld on Prinsengracht nearby our rented apartment.
Rolling into the Dutch countryside on the Eurostar, calmly awaiting for the adventure that awaits, while looking for tractors in the countryside. He also became familiar with windmills, or windmolen, the Dutch word, as we kept calling them.
Saying goodbye to the "soopuh fasht!" Eurostar in Rotterdam Centraal, the three of us excited for what awaits us in the low country (Nainai having travels with the two of us from London). I'm a lean packer. And talk about best laid plans going awry, Bob spilled a healthy pour of coffee down my shirt on the train, but luckily the coffee didn't much show up on the blue shirt, so I could still wear it all week.
As we all know about best-laid plans, awry they often go. Bob has taught us nothing if not the importance of a regular sleeping schedule for the joint happiness of the family unit, and everyone on this trip, Lincoln included, was dealing with jet lag, except for Bobby and me. Bob just loves waking up early, even while his nainai is a famously late sleeper. Lincoln, meanwhile, just slept whenever he could. Gugu had made a number of dinner reservations, but this wasn't the kind of trip where we were able to stick close to any schedule. Gugu tried to organize a trip with a meticulous schedule that would have made her dad proud but instead ended up with a flexible schedule along the lines that Nainai had often advocated for, demonstrated most memorably during the San Francisco 2002 family vacation when her husband was hustling her out of bed (after he'd already been up, showered, and drank a cup of coffee): "Going on a trip with you isn't a vacation! It's an endurance contest!"
I was up early every day with Bobby. And when our travelling companions wanted to rest, well, Bob was having none of it. So the two of us spent literally every waking moment together, often joined not at the hip but the torso (courtesy of our Ergo Baby, still going strong after all these years). The first morning in Delft, Bob was awake around six. Everyone else was still asleep. Every morning, Bob needs a few minutes to get his whits abound him, and then he is -- quite literally -- full speed off to the races, even running laps some mornings. We had bought groceries the night before, so we breakfasted together at the house's big, wide, antique, wooden table, and still everyone was sleeping. Should we wait around for the family so we can explore the city together on Gugu's itinerary? Well, we can still do that even if Bob and I head out early and explore the city while everyone else sleeps.
Delft isn't big, so we couldn't get too far away before our tour director called us back. We were staying in a rented apartment in the historic center of Delft. There are two long canals bisecting the center, and our house was between these. The apartment was equidistant from the old church (Oude Kerk) and the new church (Nieuwe Kerk), so you get the idea of how centrally located we were. On Saturday mornings, there is a market off the main central square at Brabantse Turfmarkt. Bob and I showed up to the market, but it was still being set up. (It's funny: in Chicago, there was a Saturday morning farmer's market down the road from our North Dearborn apartment; before Bob, we always wanted to go but rarely did because we never woke up early enough; now, here we are visiting markets before they're even open.) Bob and I walked the quiet, sleepy streets for a while, retracing our steps from the previous day, looking at the canals, buildings, churches, and we also found a tram line.
Trams are a BIG deal to our little vehicle fanatic. He sees underground passenger trains at least once a week. Intercity passenger trains pass right by our London apartment building, and we usually can spot at least one on the way to nursery in the morning and another in the evening. But trams, well we have only found trams a handful of times: Prague, Edinburgh, Lisbon, Dublin, Amsterdam, Croydon (south London). And trams have bells, just like many of the buses in London. So you can see that bells are a big deal too.
What I didn't anticipate about sleepy little Delft was the intimate relationship we would develop with the church bells. The ringing bells reverberate through town, carried over the tops of the low-rise roofs, not drowned out by traffic as the city center allows few cars. And church bells sound like tram bells. The little boy was very excited when we stood in the main town square, the Markt, and heard the Nieuwe Kerk's bells ring: "Sound like a tam: ding-ding, ding-ding!" While we explored the city together -- on the first morning, as well as the subsequent mornings and afternoons -- the bells were a major activity: anticipating their ringing every 15 minutes and then celebrating once they rang. At the hour and half-hour, there was an extended song. At the hour, the bells then ring for the number of hours in the day. The Nieuwe Kerk's bells ring first, and then the Oude Kerk's bells ring once. I felt a connection to the past, as these bells have been ringing for hundreds of years, only silenced during major disasters, like German occupation during World War II.
While the bells would be an ongoing fascination during our time in Delft, that morning we did eventually make it to the market, where we bought tulips and fresh stroopwafels. It's tradition for Bob and I to go search in the mornings for local pastries. Other mornings, we went to various coffee shops and had coffees, babycinos, and apple cakes, apple cake being a very common menu item in the Netherlands. Even at pubs you may spot an apple cake at the bar. That first morning, eventually the rest of our gang woke up, and we all visited the market together. It was much more crowded by that time, and Bob and I could smile and remember that we were among the first ones there in the morning.
Buying flowers in the Brabantse Turfmarkt
In fact, for Bob and me, much of our time in Delft was spent walking the streets, starting early in the morning when everyone else was asleep, looking for cars, boats, trams, and bikes ("bie-kuhl"). Central Delft isn't so big, with several of the main buildings -- the churches, the Stadhuis (town hall) -- all close by. Once the rest of our contingent was ready to walk the streets with us, it was easy for us to come back home and find them. Delft is so miniature, you never feel far away. When killing time and waiting for the family, we were able to listen to the bells at the Oude Kerk and then go to the Nieuwe Kerk and listen to its bells 15 minutes later. We watched a pilot, taking a boat driving lesson, bump into the side of an arched bridge -- which Bob called a tunnel -- and after that Bob was very interested to see if any other boats would hit the bridges. Even the canals in Delft are a bit miniature, compared to Amsterdam, and the houses too.
Our rented apartment was really more of an entire house: three stories on top of a hairdresser's on the ground floor. As is typical with Dutch houses, it was narrow with steep stairs, which Bobby found fascinating and wanted to continually go up and down. The house was built in the early 17th century, with the ceiling beams on the top floor made from a ship's mast. Wood and exposed beams featured very heavily in the design and furnishings.
It had been a while since Bobby had taken a nap in his Ergo Baby. From an objective point of view, he may look just about too big for the Ergo Baby, but he doesn't feel too heavy for me; I like the feeling of him in there. I thought maybe I'd put him down for a nap at home, but on the first day he wanted to go to sleep while we were out in town; so I turned him facing in, and he slept for three hours (where normally he would only sleep for one hour in the Ergo Baby). I even ate my lunch with Nainai and Gugu while Bob slept with his face burrowed into my chest. Every nap in the Netherlands ended up being in the Ergo Baby except for one nap in the car while we drove to Amsterdam. He also rode quite often on my shoulders. Sometimes he walked, but often it was just easier to carry him to protect him from all of the fast moving bicycles. He learned well to be careful of them, often imploring me, "Keh-full, Baba, bye-kul coming!" By the end of the day, I was very tired. This trip ended up being quite the athletic adventure for me, with workouts of the legs and upper body, lugging my travel companion with me everywhere, not to mention lugging suitcases up all of those narrow staircases, often carrying Bob and suitcases at the same time.
I didn't plan to potty train Bobby in the Netherlands, but it happened. While he had regressed a few times in learning to use the bathroom, in London we had been taking him out and about, further and further from home, suffering several accidents along the way. Our adventure in the Netherlands, however, ended up being an adventure in finding and exploring the small toilet stalls found in various restaurants. He had a few accidents, but by the end of the trip, he wouldn't need to wear a diaper to nursery anymore. Bobby and I were just so close the entire trip, our minds melded together, thinking only of spotting vehicles and making sure we got to whatever bathroom we could whenever we needed.
Steep stairs in our Delft apartment
Early morning coffees with Gugu on a barge moored in front of Stads-Koffyhuis, an old school cafe (50 years old apparently!), where inside you'll find big wooden tables and older men and women reading the newspapers and chatting with each other and the staff. Gugu's Instagram selfie is using the Oude Kerk (and its leaning clock tower) as a backdrop.
Some more shots of Stads Koffyhuis, from its website.
Playing soccer along the canals was high risk but still fun, as we killed time on the Hippolytusbuurt, waiting for instructions from tour director Gugu
Gugu and Lincoln in Delft on the way to the grocery store.
Dining with Gugu and Nainai at a nearby cafe called De Delf, while Bob slept; I had a "bravocado," which was an open-faced sandwich with batter and fried avocado slices. Fried food features heavily in Dutch cuisine. We frequently had bitterballen, which is batter and fried balls of beef and gravy -- not bad but not great. But just like we're seeing in the Midwest, another land of hearty meat and grain-based foods, in the Netherlands there is more and more use of fresh ingredients, with imported fruits and vegetables. In the old days you probably wouldn't have seen such a bright plate of food in Delft!
This blog is Law, Partially, so it's apt that here again I take the opportunity to diagonally participate in the legal industry. While I studied international law in school, I never had good enough grades to land a job as an international lawyer. Back in those studious days, I read often of Hugo Grotius, the father of international law, who was born in Delft. Here he is in statue form on Delft's main town square, the Markt, in front of the Nieuwe Kerk, where he is also buried.
Gugu rented a van, and we took a day trip to Rotterdam and also visited a few other small towns on the way to Amsterdam, our final destination. As we spent most of our time in Rotterdam waiting for Lincoln to wake up from his nap while Gugu shopped, we didn't get to do much except to have lunch at the Foodhallen, where I finally found my herring sandwich. A herring sandwich is a local favorite, consisting of pickled herring with a pickle and chopped onions on a bun. It wasn't a great sandwich, but when in Rotterdam! I also had a fried fish sandwich. While Gugu kept shopping, Nainai, Bobby, and I took a ride on the local tram line.
The next day, we were back in the van, to try to find those elusive tulip fields in bloom and shift our residence to Amsterdam. Well, the tulips didn't bloom, and we did see some flower fields, but not tulips to the horizon. But Gugu did arrange for us to have lunch at a restaurant in a train station in the little hamlet of Lisse (Het tussen station Lisse), where a few trains did pass us by. We also saw a number of tractors throughout the day, farming that lovely, verdant, and moist Dutch countryside -- tractors also being on the list of most favorite vehicles.
In Amsterdam, we were moving into luxury, where we learned that living in a beautiful space is good for the mind, body, and soul. We had three stories in a canal house. Everything in the house was first class, with top quality materials, beautiful wood floors, old wooden bureaus and cabinets, and unobstructed views of the canal out front, the Prinsengracht. Bob and I did walk the streets in Amsterdam like Delft, but we spent less time doing so. Partly this was because it took longer to get outside because the house was taller, our house was on a quieter canal so we had to walk further, Rachel wanted me to watch Lincoln more often, and the house was so lovely it just felt nice to hang out there. Bob and Lincoln played on the rug, Bob kicking the soccer ball to Lincoln, crawling around all over; once, Bobby told Lincoln, in a tone of fraternal wisdom, "Lincoln, don't eat soccer ball."
The common room of our beautiful Amsterdam canal house. The wide open spaces facilitated Bob running his laps and playing indoor soccer.
The view from my bedroom.
Another view of Prinsengracht, this one from my bathroom. I have always wanted a bathroom with a view.
But we did venture out into the city. Nainai and I took Bobby to the Rijksmuseum. This was Bob's second time there, and it was his second time sleeping through his museum tour. After he woke up, we took him to get some apple cake in the cafe. We also took a canal boat tour, which of course Bobby really enjoyed. The bike traffic in Amsterdam is much heavier than in Delft, and there are a lot more trams. Amsterdam's vehicular panorama ranks at the top of the world for Bobby.
Running away from the Rijksmuseum on Museumplein.
One of us asleep on the Night Watch.
obligatory canal selfie, nearby the Anne Frank Huis, with Bob falling asleep on my chest.
TRAM!!!! Just walking around Amsterdam looking for trams, then excited for the next one. We never got to ride an Amsterdam tram this time, but we did ride the spotless subway.
Bobby and I were incredibly close during the trip. The boy seems very well behaved when you're tuned into his every thought when it's just the two of you at all times. It felt like we were even looking at the same things at all times -- I was constantly scanning the streetscape for vehicles, and I knew the ones he'd want to identify. Our minds were just melded. I think sometimes the bad behavior arises because he's wanting something that's different than what his parents want, but if you're constantly tuned into his desires you can work together to agree where to direct the attention.
And a young travel companion, observing the world, where to him everything is new, can help you to appreciate what you otherwise may not have. I don't care much for church tourism, but ever since this trip Bobby has been very interested in churches, pointing them out whenever he sees them: "chuhch!" Europe is a great place to visit churches if you wanted to. Reading travel reviews of Delft, many tourists complain about the incessant bells. But how lovely is it to just listen and appreciate them and connect to the generations past who heard the same bells? The bells are quite literally a shared experience for everyone in the town every day, and one that we also share across generations. How selfish and jaded to complain that the bells disturbed your breakfast.
I enjoyed so much our time in the low country; I want to go back and relive it with Christine. But it's hard to find the feeling when you go off chasing the same one again. Or, as some old Greek guy, Heraticlus, said, you cannot step in the same river twice. Or canal, as it were. So we will go to some other rivers. This fall, the three of us will set off for two months exploring, among others, the Arno, Po, Manzanares, Guadalquivir, Tagus, and Douro. Let's hope the three of us can enjoy our time together travelling as much as two of us did in the Netherlands.
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