It turns out that Landon couldn't take leave (i.e. vacation time) for this weekend because he was involved in an exercise that lasted for two weeks. So, I decided to take the boys myself and carpool with our friends, the Meldroms. As you might imagine, there were a few bumps in the road.
I have a new-found appreciation for all the work Landon does for us when we take trips. He has his role and I have mine. I did both on this trip and it was a lot of work! But fortunately, I know that the Lord was watching out for us.
We started our journey in the parking lot across from the movie theater on Vogelweh Base. The Meldroms picked up their two teenage daughters, Sara and Katie, who had attended seminary earlier that morning. Katie rode with us for the first five hours. She was a lot of help with the boys. She entertained them with songs and videos from her Ipod and gave them snacks and drinks.
About thirty minutes from Duinrell (the place the Meldroms were spending the night) the Meldrom's vehicle overheated. I ended up taking Sara, and Eric in my car and driving to our first destination. We left the others there to fix the problem. They had to call ADAC (a roadside service here in Europe) and be towed to a repair shop. It turns out they needed a new water pump.
The kids and I ended up at Zaanse Schans. It's a place that has been created to replicate what Holland looked like in the 17th and 18th centuries. It included the classic windmills, a cheese factory, a wooden shoe store and other little shops. We shopped and ate Dutch pancakes--which are a lot like crepes.
Wedding shoes!
Flip flops!
Sarah, Eric, Jonathan and Erik
Although not very clear, this is a picture of inside one of the windmills.
Giddy up doggy?
Cheese factory
When we finished, we drove to Duinrell. The Meldroms had not yet arrived, and although their dungalow was reserved and they had called a left a message that we would be coming, the people at the front desk didn't want to give us the key since the dungalow had not yet been paid for. It was only through Erik's good looks and baby charm that we were able to get the key.
We only had to wait five minutes before the rest of the crew arrived. It was not long after that that I headed for my hotel, thus beginning my own set of adventures. It was only twelve miles away, but it took about thirty minutes to get there. Before I could reach the hotel, we had to drive onto a ferry to cross the canal. The little island was really quaint, complete with tiny little roads as narrow as the ones that lead to the village in which I live. The only difference is there was no room to pull over to let cars pass due to walls and foilage lining the sides of the road. At one point I had to back up my minivan to let another car pass. It's a good thing there wasn't another car behind me!
When I arrived, there were only two parking spaces left. One was between two cars and simply too small for me to fit into, and the other was by a tree with a pile of rocks and brick in a bucket and bikes to block the way. Now, those of you who are unfamiliar with European parking lots, let me fill you in. They're tiny. They are designed for the tiny cars that Europeans drive. Our Honda Accord is longer than my Swiss friend's minivan--just to give you an idea. Are they more environmentally conscious than we Americans? Yes, but it's more driven by economics than anything else. Try paying what they do in gasoline, and you would drive a small stick shift too. More on that later...
Long story short, it took me about as long to park as it did to get there! I had to move that bucket of bricks and a few bikes before I could make it in.
Our hotel. Can you see the stairs?
This is right next to where we parked. It was beautiful.
Darn bucket of bricks.
In the parking lot the morning we left the hotel.
I was relieved that the guy at the check in counter helped me with my luggage. We had to go up three windy fights of stairs (rarely have we had the luxury of an elevator in our hotels) to get to our room. Jonathan was commentating the whole way up stating that it was "high" and "hard." The stairs really were big for him. After making it to our room, I still had to go back and get the pack and play for Erik to sleep in. I was not about to pay 7.50 Euro when I could do it myself. Boy, did I appreciate Landon after all was said and done!
The next morning Beth and I went to the Anne Frank Museum and Hiding Place while Jonathan and the rest of the Meldrom family went on the rides at the amusement park where they were staying. I listened to the audio book of The Diary of Anne Frank a few months ago. I was amazed at the mature level of her thoughts and writing style. It was neat to be able to go visit the place she hid and hear the same church clock tower that help her keep track of time while she was there. It was also a very sobering thought to think of how her life ended as was the case with so many others. It's sickening to think of how a leader who was loved and admired by so many and gave hope to a struggling Germany was able to order such unthinkable acts. Even worse is the thought that it was everyday ordinary German people who carried out the orders. How can anyone deny such a large and terrible part of history?
Above: the building that housed the Frank's when they were in hiding. Below: the church she references in the book.
Pictures of Amsterdam near the Anne Frank House
There are a lot of canals in Holland.
There used to be a tax on the size of the front of your property. People got around this tax by having very narrow property fronts.
I loved Holland. Even larger cities like Amserdam were somewhat quaint.
Many people ride their bikes in Amsterdam. This bike has accommodations for two children: one in front and one in back.
Later that day we went to Keukenhoff gardens. It was difficult getting there because many of the roads were blocked off for the parade, and--unfortunately--we missed the parade altogether.
Jonathan, who had fallen asleep during all the driving, suddenly woke up crying. When I finally convinced him to stop crying and use his words to tell my what was wrong, he announced that he had to go potty. Luckily, we were able to pull over shortly thereafter and find a restroom for him to use. When he was all finished, he admitted, "I was so scared." It was so cute, sad, and funny all at the same time.
All of the detours and driving were worth seeing the gardens. They were so beautiful! Be prepared to see a lot of pictures of flowers!
I love tulips. They're one of my favorite kinds of flowers.
After seeing the gardens, it was time for us to leave. I was completely out of gas, but only decided to fill up half a tank because of the price of gas. I cost about 35 Euro which is about $50. I estimated that I could probably make it to Spangdahlem, a U.S. military base on the boarder of Germany and Belgium. I took out plenty of Euro just in case I didn't make it to the base and had to pay for gas on the local economy. Often times they don't take American cards.
I looked at my watch and seeing that it was 7:15 p.m., I hoped that my children would fall asleep for the journey.
As luck would have it they soon fell asleep, and I was feeling confident about my journey home. When my gas tank reached about the quarter-tank mark, I mentally noted that I needed to start looking for a gas station. I didn't see any signs for gas stations and as the gas needle sank lower and lower, it got darker and darker outside. When the needle finally hit E, I started to worry. I finally decided to set my GPS to a nearby gas station. Knowing better, I pulled of the highway to head to a gas station that was five miles away. This decision was made purely out of fear. I know better than to do this at 11:15 at night. I knew that in Europe the gas station located five miles off of the highway would be closed and that there wouldn't be a card machine either.
After driving in vain to a couple of gas stations, I stopped at a restaurant where a little old man and lady were cleaning up. I asked if they spoke English. They did not. Since I was in Belgium and fairly close to the boarder of Germany, I asked if they spoke German--they did. They informed me that there were no gas stations in the town that were open and that the nearest open gas station was about 40km or 24 miles away. TWENTY-FOUR MILES?! Landon's voice was ringing in my head, "When the gas light comes on, you have about 20 miles left." I had gone five to get to this little town, and I had to travel five back...
There was no way I was going to make it 24 miles. I was in a panic. It would be a dreadful situation to run out of gas on the highway (which is--at least in Germany--illegal) with two little boys. I would be stranded, scared, and responsible for the well-being of a two kids: one three years old and the other 13 months. It was at this point that I started praying--and hard. I worried. Maybe my prayer wouldn't be answered. Maybe I was making the wrong decision. Maybe I should pull off the highway and sleep in the car or try to find a hotel. I started to reason with myself. Why did I think that God would not answer my prayer? Did I not think it was possible? Of course it was possible. If the Lord fed 5,000 from a mere five loaves and two fishes, surely he can help me get to a gas station. If the Lord can resurrect someone from the dead, surely this would be easy for him. Then what was the problem? Maybe I was not worthy of this blessing, I began to think. But my kids are innocent! It was at this point that I quickly started to promise to improve a certain aspect in my life. One that I've been meaning and trying to change, but hadn't yet. This time, I promised, this time I would try a lot harder.
Next thing I knew, I saw St. Vith. I knew this was a boarder town because Landon and I had driven there once to look at furniture. We were brand new in Germany and didn't know that St. Vith was in Belgium. I hurriedly pulled off, even though I didn't not see a station. I was either going to get gas here, or sleep in the car.
Suddenly, I saw a very large Shell station. As I pulled up, I could see that it was closed. I looked at the odometer. I had gone twenty-five miles. My only hope was if the gas station had a card machine. I didn't see a place for cards at the pump I pulled up to , but I turned and looked across to the other side and saw a place for cards. I drove over there hoping they would take my Mastercard debit card. And, yes. They did. I was so relieved. I knew that I was being watched over and that my prayer was answered.
I drove the rest of the way home happily and climbed into my soft bed next to my sweet hubby around 1:30. Boy did it feel good to be home!
