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"Free air to Europe."
Sound good to be true? It actually wasn't.
Back when I was still with Expedia, a customer called to confirm a fare she'd just booked on a Vancouver-Bucharest routing, stopping over in Amsterdam, with a base fare of $0. Note to fellow travellers -- never call to confirm one of these right away, it's like robbing a bank and then asking for a receipt
Anyway I got word of this, and proceeded to book random dates in March, knowing that (a) it wouldn't last long, and (b) this one was actually refundable. The result: Ottawa-Bucharest roundtrip, with a five-day stopover in Amsterdam, for simply the taxes of about C$200pp (the miles alone are almost worth the trip).
Such 'misprints' and 'deals', by the way, can be found at sites such as FlyerTalk.
Fast forward five months, and we're off to Europe, and with great timing at that, as Jen and I had gone through some of life's major stressers in the preceding weeks, with a move to a new home, and a new job for each of us.
Click to see the trip photos
First stop, Romania, a new country for us, but someplace where I had some history, on my paternal grandmother's side of the family. And it turns out we knew people in Bucharest, a couple with whom we'd been tablemates on a cruise a couple of years back (see "Sailing Around the Hurricane"). So we had an enjoyable Sunday, visiting a folk village and the Palace of the People, the enormous monument to megalomania built by Ceausescu that now houses Romania’s Parliament. The next day we took the train to Brasov, gateway to Transylvania, and thanks to some stellar weather we made the most of our time in this medieval UNESCO World Heritage Site. Our final morning we walked around the centre of the city, taking in the square where Ceausescu gave his last speech as the revolution of December 1989 unfolded – the bullets are not only practically audible in the square, there are actually a few still lodged here and there.
All three evenings in Bucharest we dined at the same establishment, La Mama, Romanian cuisine popular with locals and expats alike, the highlights being their grilled meats, wonderful cabbage rolls, and of course the Romanian staple polenta. Our hotel, the Capitol, was centrally located, but service was lacking and rooms were dated – “they’re all the same,” snapped the manager when we inquired about renovation that the guidebooks had mentioned. This aside, however, we found Romanians to be friendly and hospitable enough. For a country that only recently has emerged from communism and in fact just this year entered the European Union, Romania certainly has its share of growing pains. And though only time will tell if present-day development efforts will yield successful results for the majority of Romanians, our quick trip here gave enough of a glimpse to tell us that from a traveller’s perspective, this is a good place to be right now.
KLM next brought us back to Amsterdam, where we’d booked the new Movenpick Hotel, a fifteen minute walk from Centraal Station in the revitalised Eastern Docklands area. This was our second visit to Amsterdam, the first having been Jen’s premier European sojourn seven years ago. The weather was markedly better this time around, a mix of sun and cloud and that ever-present Dutch breeze, but no real precipitation of which to speak, which over a five day span is quite fortunate. We were determined on our first evening to repeat our experience of rijsttafel, the Dutch version of an Indonesia feast, this one at Puri Mas in the colourful Leidseplein neighbourhood. And disappointed we were not, for as often as they say “you can’t go back” – and for as often as this is true – this meal was as wonderful as the first time. A bit sweet, a bit spicy, accompanied by a few pints of Heineken draught, an experience for the senses.
We had four full days in Holland, two of which we spent in Amsterdam, the other two further afield. As the weather gods seemed to be smiling, we first went to Zaanse Schans, a folk village on the river Zaan with several working windmills. The guidebooks don’t warn you, however, that the walk from the train station to the village takes you by a cocoa factory, the aroma of which I hadn’t experienced since Hershey, Pennsylvania. From here we travelled south to the charming city of Delft, which Vermeer featured in many of his works. We both agreed that Delft was a place we’d certainly come back to, with its quaint canals, vibrant market square, and a great pancake house. We wound up this day in The Hague, where a version of Holland in miniature form exists in Madurodam, and with the sun setting and the lights coming on, we enjoyed this theme park nearly to ourselves.
Our other day out and about began at Schiphol (our favourite airport in Europe), where we picked up our friend Sylvia who’d flown in from Madrid, and continued on to the Keukenhof, the famed gardens where for two months every spring, Holland’s famed tulips come into bloom. This year’s edition had just begun, and despite some overcast and a stiff breeze, we were treated to an amazing array of colours, shapes, and arrangements, both of tulips and the grounds themselves outside, and of beautiful orchids in the Queen Beatrix Pavilion. We proceeded to the nearby town of Leiden, where we warmed up with hot cocoa and (more) pancakes, before taking the train up to Haarlem, passing by the tantalizingly colourful tulip fields, rows of yellow, red, violet and others of the spectrum flashing by. Haarlem itself is nice enough, with its quaint square and small-town feeling, and just fifteen minutes by train from Amsterdam – we tried the smoked herring at the stand here, to which the girls gave a sour face, but I rather enjoyed it, perhaps as part of the overall experience.
Our time in Amsterdam itself saw largely sunny skies, ideal for walking the many canals, getting semi-lost in the unique neighbourhoods before finding ourselves again on a main canal or square. The Rijksmuseum is, of course, one of the world’s greatest, and though renovations are currently taking place, the best works byRembrandt, Steen, Vermeer, Hals et all are on display in the Philips Wing. Across the park is the Van Gogh museum – I still attempt to pronounce his name as the Dutch do, more like “Fon Hoch” – with some of Vincent’s finest pieces on display (cheaper than what came to Ottawa some years back and far more extensive). We did the tourist boat tour of the major canals, which was worth it, I’d have to say, especially to get a different perspective of the city. And we had the Heineken Experience, housed in a brewery and complete with enough samples to satisfy (though I was desperately searching for a loo as we later walked the canals). The meals we enjoyed were hearty Dutch and flavourful Indonesian, as well as outstanding fries (with mayonnaise of course) on the Damrak. And Jen found her dessert fix in the form of chocolates from neighbourhood shops, some of the best in the world we’d have to say.
So as our journey came to a close, we left with fond memories, and the ever-present desire to get back to Europe as soon as possible.
Click to see the trip photos
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