Sixth Installment:

Amsterdam and the Netherlands

Landscape Photographs will be added soon

 

To Amsterdam Day 1

What a lovely town Winchester is.  I wish I'd remembered how nice it was as I would have planned to spend more time there.  When you're traveling on a limited time budget your decision to make a side trip to Lymington means there's that much less time for Winchester.  I wish I'd brought the camera on that at last one or two hour-long walk round and round the town last night.  It would have made for great shots… such sheer beauty with tudor-style buildings with the timbers against the white matrix or the flint/chert-walled variety, the huge Norman cathedral, the gardens, the watercourses, the Saxon wall.  Had a lovely full English, this time including a slice of cantaloupe, and the hostlady helped carry my bags rushing down the street and across the park that was given to abbots and nuns, so is kept up ever so nicely, to the short #5 bus ride to the train.  On the way she was telling me that Winchester has loads of streams and underground rivers, just the main one being the Itchin that flows south to Southampton harbor.  The town has obviously kept the central district up, preserving the old buildings, most of which either are many hundreds of years old, or use the same old methods and materials so that they look like they are.  They have a code and new things are made to fit in.  This is at total odds to how New York City, and many other U.S. cities prioritize things.  Don't get me started on that diversion.

The TV this morning was pretty funny.  I have watched snatches of the news, and as much weather as I can find.  Today they were talking about what gets your goat in the supermarket.  Thirty-seven percent are irritated that they always locate the veg in the front, and then you put the soap powder boxes, cans, and other things on top squashing it.  I never thought about it, but that's true.  One said that they hate how, as you're trying to check out, you encounter somebody with enough items in their cart to fill the Royal Albert Hall and it destroys your will to live.  There's something about the way that comes off the tongue with the local accent that's so amusing.

Since arriving early for once, along with the commuters to London (the trip took just an hour), I got what was left of my UK currency changed to Euros (2% charge at the window in the train station) and was thus, not tempted by all the sweets and pastry shops lining the platform entrances on the way to the Eurostar check in.   In having bought the Eurostar ticket at Waterloo station days before, I just needed to be there a half hour early to check in.  I had no idea that it was almost like an international airline check in procedure, but wasn't surprised either.  I'd figured that the Chunnel would be a wonderful terrorist target and wondered how they protected it.  So first they checked tickets, then scanned all the luggage, walked through metal detector, then customs.  My ticket had a specific seat number which was about the worst (I'd thought later to ask for a window seat, but had forgotten).  Some of the windows are huge, then there are 18" non-windowed areas that are lined up with rows of seats.  I got an aisle seat near one of those.  Argh!  No good!  I asked a chap across the aisle from me if he thought the train might fill up, and he thought good chance I could move, so with a 4-seat group of facing seats and table free, up one row and across, I darted for that as soon as the train took off.  :-)

The day had turned very gray, and the weather forecast had been gloomy for England, but the rain that had hit me along the coast the day before was now in Europe, probably over Belgium and the Netherlands.  I must say, and the English have also been remarking, that the weather has been most unusually warm.  They Never get days where it's comfortable to be running around in a T-shirt this late in the year, and there have been many.  I'd packed a wool heather-colored brown sweater that I'd bought onsale in Winchester back in Feb. '95 when I realized that my London Fog style raincoat wasn't going to be enough to protect me from the damp cold.  I have yet to use it this trip.

The trip to the Channel was mostly along preexisting trainlines through bad parts of London (e.g. Brixton) suburbs, then sheep, but then as we approached the Channel area, it was clear to me that the lines were new, there were fences, and densely planted trees, newly installed, beyond the fences, which will soon blot out viewing the downs.  Shortly before we entered the Chunnel, they announced the trip under would last about 20 minutes, and that the time in Europe is one hour ahead (I reset my watch).  It had only taken less than an hour from London to get to the Chunnel.  The train emerged a little over 20 minutes later at Calais.  Now that we're in France, the announcements are French first, English second, and German third.  It was only another half hour to the Lille, France stop.  Not too much longer before we get to Belgium.  It has been very pleasant in my new seat, catching up with travelogues and downloading pix from the camera.  There was even something new in the bathrooms on the train (I'm not surprised).  Just above the sink is a three-part horizontal unit, with soap dispenser on left, water out of the middle, and hot air out of the right.  You operate the middle with a floor pedal, and flush the toilet with a different floor pedal.  Of course, in Europe nothing in this area is standardized (there used to be some really interesting designs, best of all the string or chain attached to a unit on the ceiling), and it's always an adventure to figure it all out.  Just the day before I'd gone to a public toilet in Lyme Regis and instead of pushing a button behind the toilet to flush, you just move your hand near the lit button and the motion sensor operates the flusher.  Neat!

In Brussels, I needed to buy a ticket to Amsterdam, not being able to purchase that online. Getting off the special train, it was in a separate part of the station and there were signs for everything except getting to the main hall to buy tickets.  Eventually, I did get there, but there was one office for picking up pre-booked tix (they clearly said go to the Travel Centre to buy new tix, but there was no indication anywhere where that would be.  I often find this sort of parochialism… ‘ Well everybody knows where That is! ‘  So had to stand in a line to find out where it was, when some well-placed signs would have done the trick.  They had the same sort of ticket to get a ticket sort of system that I last saw in the Florence post office a couple of years ago.  There are different zones and you need to know which zone you need to be in.  In order to get your place in line you go to an electronic kiosk, punch in your language and where you want a ticket.  Then it ejects the zone and the number on a chit.  After all that, I was taken almost instantaneously anyway, and by the guy next to the one who'd told me to go get a number from the kiosk.  You know that I adore bureaucracy… now it's electronic as well.

With my ticket and 10 euros in pocket, I went in search of food and an ATM (cash point).  I looked at the Belgian chocolates but passed on it.  After the free internet zone (neato but not enough time before my train), the next thing I saw (and I really Was looking for proper food) was Haagen Dazs.  This guy was walking away with a Belgian waffle with dark chocolate sauce on it.  Oh Boy!  They had ice creams too, so in honor of being in Belgium for such a short time, I had a Belgian waffle sundae with whipped cream, chocolate sauce and Belgian chocolate ice cream.  How delectable was that?

I noticed that as soon as we were in the Netherlands that every available wall along the railroad was covered with NYC style graffiti ­ 1980s vintage.  The land sure is flat with lots of small canals (really they're irrigation ditches) through the farm fields.  It reminds me of south Florida.  Of course it would ..  both these places are on the maps of areas that will disappear when the water rises.  And the bicycles!  At every train station on the way to Amsterdam there were a hundred or more.  And between towns there were lots of bike paths with folks bicycling.  I got to Amsterdam Centraal at 5:40pm, and had time to get train tix to the venue and back (they don't take credit cards ­ the guy behind the counter said they were still in the stone age), got some brochures at the large kiosk / office nearby selling canal boat and sightseeing tours, and got to the hotel.  Most folks in the tourist industry speak English, but not everybody in the Netherlands does.

 

The Concert

The Bijlmer station is apparently just about finished and right next to the Heineken Hall, so that was very convenient from the central station.  The Heineken Hall sells lots of beer, not surprising.  It's a big hall, floor pretty flat, with the balcony way back, but a couple of narrow "wings" that come forward some.  There were some notable happenings this evening:  First off, there was a swarm of 6 or7 bazooka-toting paparazzi buzzing about the stage for the first three songs.  They were right in their faces.  I hope that all this at least translates to some good press for them.  This activity clearly bothered both of the Jays and threw them off stride.  Jus rolled his eyes at Norda at one point, and it took a few songs for either one of them to feel at ease and start smiling.  John didn't even smile once until he was done with his second song, and it was into the second act for him to be anywhere near normal.  Norda goosed Graeme in the butt as they were dancing together for Higher and Higher … retribution from the last time ­ see one follows the other, then they reverse.  Somehow Graeme's belt came undone and he spent quite a bit of time fixing it right in the middle of his dance…  Graeme also missed the start of See-Saw.  Normally, he's the one to do all the accompaniment to the clapping while Gordy is standing on his seat beating his sticks, but he was still fiddling so Gordy just beat on one of his tom toms instead since everyone had started to clap.  Graeme also didn't make the joke about incontinent.  I can imagine that this could have been taken quite badly in translation…  He also looked really bad after his solo this night (BTW, it isn't a solo… Gordy's also drumming).  No snide remarks from Graeme this night.  The guy next to me had stood outside before the band arrived and got Justin to sign an enlargement of the two of them together in 1991.  What a good picture that was of both of them.  He also came prepared with a sign that he hung around his neck ­ Justin, please give me your pick, so Justin did after Nights.  John didn't give out any.  In fact, I realize he hasn't given out many (any?) this whole tour.  I can remember him flicking pics more often in the past.

Coming back up the escalator to the Bijlmer station, we saw a train heading in the right direction, and quickly hopped on it.  Unfortunately, not only was this not the correct train but it was the Metro,  This train by-passed the central station and headed out to the western suburbs.  I realized this first, since it was taking too long.  We hopped off and got one back, and changed to the right one.  Took a bit of time, but ok.  I got back to the central station and had the awkward situation of having a ticket, not for the Metro, but for the train, and there were 3 guards standing there.  Thankfully, I played dumb, and they just directed me out when I told them I wanted to leave.  There were still a number of people on the streets after midnight, and lots of bikes parked at the central station.  I get the impression seeing masses of bikes everywhere that you own a few and keep one at each end of your commute, and maybe a few more.  I went to a kiosk for some food, since I hadn't had any dinner.  It was a middle-eastern kebab sort of place which is quite common in Europe.  The swarthy guy behind the counter threw what looked like a partially empty bottle of water at a waste can near the door.. it bounced off and landed at my feet.  He made no effort to get it, apologize or even look at me, so I took that as an unwelcoming act, and moved on.   Next stop, another fast food joint, a chain called Febo, but the shopkeeper was just engrossed in conversation with a couple of guys, so I moved on to the McDonalds.  Oh well.  I tried.  Maybe I'll explore in a different direction tomorrow night if I need sustenance. 

 

Amsterdam 2

 Finding a tourist office in the center city on another mild Amsterdam morning without a horrendous wait proved to be a challenge.  I'd thought to go on a bike tour in the afternoon and then book a tour to their waterworks (where they've kept back the river or reclaimed land or something) or failing that, a guided trip to Bruges.  The reality of being in Amsterdam for 3 days seeing Moodies concerts at night meant that my body clock was shifting….  Getting to bed late here meant the ability to get up late too, since it's not necessary to get from point A to point B.  This also meant that any idea of going on a full day tour was out.  There are still logistics to get straight ­ my flight to Atlanta and my visit to Brooklyn friend, Marina, who lives up in Gronigen, a couple of hours north of here, near the German border.  So seeking some quick info, after first going to a large kiosk with tours which had lines out the door, went to the information "i" establishment, and the lines were similar or worse.  Then I went to the train info and they suggested the "i" on platform 2.  Even that place took 25 minutes to get out of.  That ensured that I'd be late to my cycle tour of choice ­ one of Mike's four-hour bike tours.  They also indicated no more water tours for the year.  I might just end up cruising around aimlessly in town on a rental for the last day.

After running into a little grocery inside Centraal to buy a sandwich and yogurt, I finally hopped a tram for 1.60 euros down to the Kaiser Gracht (pronounced Kracht, meaning crack or creek - minor canal), walking to the home base for Mike's bikes, making it a few minutes late, and then realizing that the meeting place was over near the Rijksmuseum, so missed the half-hour introduction.  I finished my yogurt and sandwich (breakfast) while I waited for the 1 pm start and noticed that this outfit is allied with some who give fat-tired tours in other European cities.  The fellow leading us on these heavy, balloon-tired bikes was an American who's lived in Amsterdam for quite a while.   It was rather strange at first, with the handlebars that wrapped way out.  Traffic in Amsterdam is more like that of a third world country since there are so many bicycles.  There are more of those than anything else, but they share streets with trams, which always have right-of-way, buses, cars and trucks (not many), and pedestrians, who are often squeezed into tiny elevated strips (and the cyclists are not shy about ringing their bells or saying things to you if you're in the wrong spot).  None of the bikes are racing bikes or have more than about 4 speeds, they all have chain guards (really big ones) and upright handlebars, people ride in their work clothes, nobody wears a helmet (and I mean nobody), and tram tracks and tram stop islands where people stand to wait, make navigation a bit dicey.  We stopped for history lessons, discussions of politics, sex shops, coffee shops, etc.  Our tour leader said a few times that we were a fast group, so he took us out to the polder (reclaimed land) area which he doesn't always do, which had a lot in common with parts of New Orleans, with houses on land several meters below sea level, to a windmill and statue of Rembrandt (who is celebrating his 400th this year), and then a farm where they demonstrate how to make cheese and wooden shoes.  One of the couples on this tour, from Bath near Bristol, got to talking with me.  It turns out that the lady's mother, Sally Rollison, went out with Justin's brother, and she said maybe Justin himself.  Her mother and the brothers had met at Sunday school and weren't that old at the time.  The lady was born in Poole, but now she and her husband live in Bath.  Another couple, up from Versailles, were going to the Moodies show that night.  This piqued the interest of our bike ride leader as well.  Quite a lot of Moody stuff happening in that tour!

 

Concert

Though there were a couple of professional cameras there for the first few songs tonight, the Jays took it in stride.  Yesterday must have been mainly first day jitters.  Jus and John were smiling from the get go.  Graeme didn't make his toss so did a frown at Norda.  I'm losing track with the goosings.  I think Norda must have goosed Graeme twice in a row this time.  During Higher and Higher, Graeme is now singing an octave lower than John as Justin does the same melody with his guitar, just an octave higher.  This time after doing the doo doo doos, he yelled, I like to sing!  He omitted both the incontinent notion and also hair were brown teeth were white thing.  But his pants stayed up!  By the end of Nights, I was ready for a run to the front, and boy, I don't think I have Ever seen (and been part of) such a fast stampede.  But I got to the front from the middle of the third row.  The locals crowded in as well.  The Jays were really up by the end ­ you know that a lively audience is what they like.  The crowd was very loud in its approval after Question. 

Afterwards we went to one of about 200 licensed Amsterdam coffee shops that are left from their heyday.  They have extensive menus, and I had some of the finest they had to offer in a brownie…They called it special cake.  It was dry and came with instructions.

We walked all over the place after that.  There was an amusement park at the Dam (square).  Much of the city (or at least it seems it) is under construction.  Whole streets along canals are passable only on boards.  We got back, and I downloaded and enjoyed pix from this afternoon's excursion and the concert.  Set for another day in Amsterdam tomorrow.

 

Amsterdam 3

It was another late morning getting up after walking the town.  This time, my body got its revenge, giving me the dreaded left-side migraine.  We took our time getting out for some fast food, and though originally, I'd thought to maybe either take a train to Bruge, Belgium (my friends in NY suggested it), or even just rent a bike and tool around taking pix of the architecture and canals for a few hours, Nyet.  The headache and intermittent rain nixed that.  So, I walked around, took pix, and toted my laptop so that if I found a wifi spot, I could send out another travelogue (which I did do, sitting on a stoop somewhere).  The day before I'd found one and there was a few benches in a nice part of a side street .  Mike's Bikes had suggested I might like the Jordaan area west of centraal, and it was nice.  It seems to be named for Johnny Jordaan.  I caught up on phone calls (to Mom and to Marina, who I was going to see in Gronigen the next day) and travelogues, and reconfirmed my flight.  The leaves were just starting to turn yellow and fall, though everyone says they should already be down.  There was one canal where somebody put some large planters on each side of the bridge over, and planted it with red geraniums.  What a Lovely picture!  Actually, two.

 

Concert

This night I decided to take Metro to the Bijlmer stop (pronounced Bellmer) where the Heineken Hall is, instead of the train.  This was because it turned out I ended up taking the metro back the first two nights anyway (the metro and train share the station and we were getting out at Nieuwmarket).  I think the train is actually a little cheaper and had fewer stops than the metro (the subway), but as I got to Centraal this evening, I was too close to the 7:13 departure to get a ticket for the 15 minute ride (I never spent the time to figure out how to buy tix using the machines, my Dutch being almost nonexistent), and I started hearing about the power problems forcing delays and cancellations of the trains to Utrecht (Bijlmer is on that line). I'd been taking trams once or twice a day.  You can buy a strippenkart or something like that, which has a few rides on it, but not as elegant as the NYC Metrocard, where it's credit card-sized and the money is put on and taken off in machines that operate in a couple of languages. 

Getting to the venue, I passed the usual bag search (they aren't as thorough as those in the US, where they put their hands in and play with your stuff, feeling it up from below, etc)  Thank goodness for decorum here!  They really seem to be interested just in cans and bottles.  They really want to sell their beer!  The night before, I'd thought to buy one of these Heineken Hall beverage cards with the Moodies pic and the three dates on it for 10 euros.  A Dutch fan, John (I may have misspelled this, as it is pronounced Yahn) said he'd give me 10 euros and his spent card for my new one so that I could have it as a keepsake without being in the hole, so that was great. 

Tonight during H&H the hijinks continued when Graeme and Norda started their dance.  Graeme threw his hands skyward with his back to her, and then Norda goosed him a couple of times with her tambourine.  I wondered whether that was planned.  Graeme sang along with John again on the final doo doo doos, as he has been, an octave lower than John, yelling, then launching into the dance.  Graeme looked better after H&H this night than the night before.  Justin threw in plenty of extra unusual little solo bits in various songs including H&H; it's hard to describe them, but they're nice.  Though there were no press cameras tonight, one newspaper article with a so-so picture was circulating.  The first couple of days they would tell people who came forward to the front to take pictures (a fair number) to stop and go back.  The camera police were out in force, for the first time shutting people down who took pictures sitting in their seats.  Nonetheless, I managed to get off a lot of nice shots hiding behind the person next to me, choosing my shots, and being circumspect.  John's 12 string was glorious again tonight.  It may be that I could hear it better from the right side because of the way the speakers and sound are set up.  I was hearing Norda's guitar better, particularly on TOSOL , between verses, when I was sitting on her side.  The race to the front after Nights was again swift.  I had eyed my spot, and got to it  :-)    John smiled and put his hand to his ear waiting for everyone to say Question again tonight.  The Dutch do like to sing it.  It wasn't the usual end of tour show, where it's clear that it's all over. 

Walking back this time I saw a lot of the sex shop windows…  It's probably what 42nd St used to be decades ago, but maybe not.  You can choose what (actually who) you want before you buy…  Again we were late getting to the hotel, and my migraine had not abated.  I'm sure this had affected my enjoyment of the show.  These things often last 18 hours and this one probably lasted a little longer, overnight into the early morning.  I was happy that the bed, and particularly the pillow, was comfortable at the Multatuli Hotel, across from the Amsterdam Centraal, but leaving, they had to charge me over 5 euros for a 40-second phone call to local information that had been aborted.  Arguing did nothing.  Let this be another lesson.

 

Epilogue

I dragged my entourage of bags down the street and across the canal to Centraal, called Marina a few times to get our schedules straight (these pay phones in the UK and Netherlands do suck your money quickly, and sometimes they don't give you any warning before cutting you off ­ I suppose I should have bought phone cards, but the number of phone calls I had to make weren't that many).  Most require at least 20 pence or cents to start, but that lasts less than a minute, so it's best to start with more.  You have to watch the display to see how much you have left at any given moment.  It doesn't tell you when your money will expire so you end up spending more to be sure not to get cut off.  Yesterday I had encountered some pay phones (a rarity on the street in Amsterdam… ) which wouldn't take coins.  A guy on a bike appeared with cards of varying denomination to help out.  He didn't give precise change (taking 5 cents for himself…)  Ah capitalism.

I decided not to go to Schiphol (pronounced Skiphole) airport's Ibis hotel this last morning as I'd thought at first, because that would take at least an hour (probably more including the transfers to and from the hotel) and cost 8 or 9 euros round trip, and it was going to take over 2 hours as it was by train to get to Gronigen (pronounced CHronichen) with a guttural "ch".  I realize in seeing Dutch words with the g before a t that our words of night, light, etc., which are from German nacht, licht, came through Holland picking up the new spelling, but retaining original pronunciation.  On the way up to Gronigen, half the train, filled with kids and their parents, got off in Zwolle, where a Lego competition was being held, and the other half got off at the final stop with me.  They're tearing up the street there too.  I guess this is a sign of prosperity across Europe.  It was a low-key day just walking the streets, having a simple lunch but some interesting key lime pie, wanting to climb the tower, but it was closed, dodging raindrops, doing some shopping with Marina in the shops and the central flea and food market (I bought a nifty bike bell for 2.30 euro.  After walking back to Marina's place for some dinner, she brought her bathroom scale to the train station where I'd stored most of the luggage in a locker (4.50 euro), and the big one weighed 26 kilogram ­ 4 to 6 kg over the limit…  Taking the 7:38 pm train back to Schiphol, I was out for the count until shortly before Amsterdam and at the airport.  Everybody got out at Centraal, and it was a bit strange feeling like the only person on a train.  I figured that the door might not open automatically, as many don't, and I kept pressing the green button, starting to freak when it didn't respond, then finally hit the yellow one.  Bingo.   I decided to stop into the airport to check in and get a boarding pass and weigh the luggage..  The elevator took me from Schiphol train station right to the middle of the airport.  What a convenient thing having the train station right under the airport!  The conveyor escalators to the next floor (departures) did not have steps as our escalators do.  I saw a sign saying no more than 26 kg or so on this conveyor belt… hah.  I imagine it was because hanging onto a really heavy bag could drag you right back down the conveyor belt, so I made sure to stand firm.  The weight limit for checked bags being 20 or 22, I needed to do some rearranging and did so at the start of the train ride back.  Nobody was in line at KLM at 10:30pm and everybody was bored, so it was a perfect time to get there.  They weighed everything since I was curious…  the rolling duffel now 20 kg, laptop bag 5 kg, knapsack 10 kg, additional shoulder bag, 9 kg = 44 kg.  Now at 2.2 pounds per kg, that's a lot of stuff I've been dragging around / up/down stairs etc.  They want me to be at the boarding area 1.5 hours beforehand.  I've saved some time by getting the boarding pass early, and they have bagcheck in kiosks to speed that.

A small mob was waiting at the area for buses to the airport hotels.  The Ibis one came before long, and it was filled and then some.  The hotel itself is about as American as you can find in terms of room design and amenities, with café, bar, breakfast buffet, internet area, sport center, library and tourist center, massages available, etc etc.  But do remember your washcloth!  It's not That American.  It was a good deal ­ single or double at 79 euros, new and comfortable, TV that works well with lots of channels including BBC news, and a bathtub ensuite.  I watched a fascinating BBC special ­ It's my country too, about Muslim Americans of all kinds ­ comedians (one called Bin Laffin), rock musicians, Republicans and Democrats.   I'll bet this is never shown in the U.S.

Next morning I decide to rush through breakfast buffet having croissant, eggs, a taste of yogurt, juice and tomato,  and there's no line for hotel checkout, and I thought how great.  But, just for kicks, I decided for a second time to ask the Ibis if breakfast is included.  It's hard to keep track of which do and which don't have breakfast.  Last night they answered yes.  Now that I've eaten it, it's an additional 11 euros ($15), plus of course there's 4 euros tax.  So now my recommendation for this hotel has a severe caveat.  I don't know if I can successfully argue with the credit card bill.  I did protest to the clerk… At the airport, there was a line for checking bags, and the flight crews butted only into our non-EU line at immigration, but all was well.  I spent my extra pocket euros on Droste chocolate, some dark chocolate Bounty bars, and a Sunday Times, on which the front page had an article entitled, "Riddle of leaked divorce papers solved" and !

"McCartney staff named as witnesses to marital rows", these supposedly on behalf of Heather. It's gonna get more ugly…  the leaked papers have Paul as a "heartless, wife-beating drunk". They figured that Macca's team never had access to the papers, so we know who leaked them.  Yowtch.  Onboard, again sat at the emergency exit, this one allowing the seat to recline, and extra space for the feet, but no window…  The questions you gotta ask… They had onboard luggage screening at the gate, and therefore a place for everyone to sit ahead of the screening, and another afterwards.  The KLM flight was uneventful, lots of food, 3 major feedings, snacks including Belgian chocolate ice cream, hot wet towels, lots of movies, so could only sleep for a couple of hours.  I find the amount of sleep that you get going west is key to keeping jet lag at a dull roar.  Going into the wind, the travel time was well over 8 hours arriving after 1pm for a conference that goes well into the night and starts up early in the morning.  It would have been bad enough to go through immigration, baggage retrieval, then customs, which is the normal rigamarole.  This time, they threw in two more disgusting and tiring steps.  After the immigration step (and I put down that I'd handled livestock ­ they just asked me what ­ I petted a Shetland pony in Scotland, and that I had some food with me… chocolate, what else?), and the lengthy baggage claim, and standing in line again for customs, we had to recheck our previously checked bags, having to answer if we have liquids in the luggage, then go through security as if we were boarding a plane, taking off shoes, taking laptop out of the bag, emptying pockets, the whole nine yards, go through the metal detector and the stuff thru the xrays, and then down the corridors and long monorail ride to another baggage claim wait.  Argh!!!  Now, I ask you… what is this all about?  Are they trying to figure if between the time we got our bags from them the first time, wheeled it the short! distance to customs and were under scrutiny, that we put a bomb into our bags so we could explode it in the terminal?  If so, it means they've got a seriously degraded internal airport security.  Same thing with the rescreening of ourselves and the carry-on luggage.  It was hard enough for me; what would it be like for a parent with kids or an older person?  I didn't budget the day's effort level to include this plus the extra shlepping through 2 Atlanta trains and up more steps and through the CNN lobby and food court to the hotel, so by the evening's event felt like $h!t but the next day, today, felt right as rain, thankfully.

Somehow, it hasn't hit me terrifically hard that I've seen the last concert and that my long vacation is over.  Every so often a there's a twinge, and its sometimes more about leaving Europe.  Maybe after 13 shows I'm finally satiated? (maybe for now, anyway.)  The fact that there is talk of 3 concert tours next year beginning in February is good consolation.  My job situation tho, is such that I have no idea how I'll end up having time off to do it, but hopefully that will resolve positively within the next couple of months.  I hope that this travelogue and 13 concert reviews hasn't been too much for most, and that it might encourage some who have been hesitant, to travel afar to see our band, explore and really enjoy and appreciate what the rest of the world has to offer, and demystify logistics involved in doing it.