Our last stop on the tour de friendship was Amsterdam, or more specifically a little town called Leiden which is nestled about 30 minutes outside of the city.  I love visiting small towns one would never ordinarily imagine visiting.   In my travels, I would often ask people I met if they had ever been to the US.  “Oh yeah, sure,” they’d answer.  “I’ve been to NYC, LA, Orlando and Las Vegas.”  While those cities are all well and good, do those places really give the best depiction of our country?  Do they paint the picture of the good ole’ US of A? They certainly provide a snapshot, but small towns and cities really show our way of life.  Same goes for traveling.  I loved seeing the big cities, like Amsterdam, but if I had an oppurntunity to get off the beaten path, I’d always take it.

When Julia and I were in Vietnam we had met a Dutch couple, Iris and Yorick. We were all on a “junkboat” touring through Halong Bay. This thing truly was junk, and both Julia and I and Iris and Yorick had the distinct pleasure of sleeping in rooms that spelled like engine fluid.  If you are thinking about going to Halong Bay, get in touch with me as I have some very strong feelings on this whole situation.  Regardless, we had all been traveling through Vietnam/Cambodia/Thailand for a about a month, and after weeks of eating only Asian food, the four of us bonded over discussions of beer, cheese and real bread.  We were talking about these foods and they told us “Holland has great beer, cheese and real bread. You should visit us at some point along your travels.” We said “We love great beer, cheese and real bread! How ’bout May?” Note: Don’t offer a Wetherhold girl to visit you if you don’t mean it.  She WILL take you up on your offer.  And so it was set.  We would visit our new friends months later when we were touring again though Europe.

After leaving our parents, Julia and I took an overnight train from Vienna to Amsterdam. These things can be so hit or miss. Julia and I got our own cabin right by the train entrance and thought we had a real, sweet situation on our hands.

 

We thought we had perfect little set up, until approximately 1:00am when two guys burst into the cabin and made themselves comfortable right beside us. There was so much commotion and to say I was annoyed was an understatement. There is plenty of room in other cabins? Why did these guys need to come right in here with us. Keep moving down the train. I mean really. These two guys were in the cabin with us for the next 5 hours or so and we tried to make the best of it. They were speaking Spanish and I was able to interpret from my limited skills that they were from Paraguay. Around 6:00am they started rustling to get their things together, to get off the train. We were all transferring in Cologne, Germany. As the train pulled into the station, I observed one guy leave the cabin and come back with a wheelchair. He then proceeded to lift up his friend off the train seat, put him in the wheelchair and push him off the train. I noticed the man wasn’t able to move his legs at all and needed total assistance from his friend.

This whole train ride I never realized the man was a paraplegic. It now became clear to me that they had jumped into the first cabin with open seats they saw so as to not have to continue down further into the train. Although I was kind to these men, I was inwardly totally embarrassed by myself. I had gottten so annoyed with them for not looking for another empty cabin.  It really gave me pause. Nothing like being totally humbled at 6:00am in the middle Cologne.

Julia and I had about a 30 minute “layover” in Cologne. It was just enough time to run to the restroom, buy a coffee, and GET MY PURSE STOLEN. But don’t worry. I got it back with a vengeance.

Long story short, Julia and I hopped off the train, grabbed some coffee and then ran to the restroom. We had a ton of luggage and it was one of those European bathrooms with the turnstiles that force you to pay one euro to use. I mean really. A euro to use a public bathroom in a train station, nonetheless? But such is life.  I waited outside with all our luggage, while Julia ran to into the turnstile loving, euro demanding bathroom.

As I was waiting all of our things were propped against the wall next to the bathroom. I made the very amateur (can I blame it on sleep deprivation?) mistake of taking my purse off and laying it on top of my luggage.   Rookie mistake! Never take your purse off your person! But I did. I was standing right beside my luggage when I literally took one step to my right to look for Julia walking back from the bathroom.  I turned back to my things and instantly realized my purse was gone. I mean I was within arms length from my purse. I could have easily reached out to touch it and yet somehow it was gone. For a spilt second I thought “did I even have my purse on me? Is it in my backpack?” While thinking this I turned around a saw a man facing the other direction slowly walking away only a few feet from me. Some instinct told me to grab him and spin him toward me. He turned around holding my purse, looked me square in the eye and said “What?” I replied “This purse is MINE!” and proceeded to rip it out of his hands. He turned back around and kept walking.

It was honestly one of the most unsettling feelings I’ve ever had. It was just eerie and totally creeped me out. My heart was racing and I can only thank God  for my quick thinking. Julia came back right then and I said “Lets get the hell out of Cologne.”

I’m sure you’re a good city Cologne. I just had a bad 30 minutes with you. I hope to see you again sometime, and maybe we’ll have a better experience.

Perhaps I will purchase this contraption prior to returning to Cologne:

We finally made it to Leiden to visit our friends and just had the best time visiting this little city.  Isn’t always said that the Netherlands has one of the highest levels of quality of life?  It’s totally understandable.  Everyone bikes everywhere, the people are so friendly,  there is an abundance of cheese, and they specialize in this little cookie called a stroopwafel, which is essentially two thin waffle cookies with caramel in the center.