livingdeb | Entries tagged with travel

Decades ago I went to a conference in Albuquerque that was held on Thursday, Friday, and Saturday. So I took the whole week off, flew in early, rented a car, and drove all around northwestern New Mexico, checking out the sites.

There was one place, advertised on many billboards (that should have been a sign, I mean a figurative sign), that sounded really interesting. It was called volcano and ice cave or something. Eh, it was mildly interesting. The volcano looked like a human-sized ant mound. The ice cave was a cave with a frozen pond in it.

Then there was another place I was going to stop at only because it was on my route, even though it sounded kind of boring: El Morro, a rock famous for its graffiti. But it was pretty cool. The land around the rock kept eroding, so the vertical dimension is like a timeline. The eye-level graffiti is kind of boring, but above that is a signature from one of the guys from the Army's camel experiment portrayed in the movie "Hawmps!" that my mom liked. Above that is fancy Spanish script from the 1600s. And above that are petroglyphs.

So it's hard to know ahead of time which things are going to be the most fun.

I just had a similar experience while decluttering books. I had thought re-reading Edgar Allen Poe's "Eight Tales of Terror" would be fun and bring me back to my early grad school years when, in certain situations, it was exciting for my friends to find excuses to use the word "putrescence" or the phrase "yellow ichor." Well, those words were not in this particular collection. And in fact, getting into the sixth story, I found myself thinking, "wow, what a drama queen!" I did used to like swimming in the creepiness. And I do like that he can do terror without gore. But this book is not my thing so I will not be keeping it.

I also pulled out a paperback called "The Mathematician's Delight" from 1943. Clearly I found this as a used book back when I thought I was going to be a math teacher some day. No longer relevant. But I opened it and started reading it anyway, just to make sure. And now I'm writing a book review of it!

This is the second book I have from the 1940s where they actually know how to teach. He talked about how many people hate and fear math, and mostly that's due to bad teaching. He opposes "parrot learning," comparing it to teaching a deaf person to play the piano. Maybe they can learn, but they'll get no fun out of it at all.

He said there were "imitation courses" in all kinds of subjects, not just math (where people may be taught to memorize formulas without understanding them). 'One can learn imitation history--kings and dates, but not the slightest idea of the motives behind it all; imitation literature--stacks of notes on Shakespeare's phrases, and a complete destruction of the power to enjoy Shakespeare.' Sounds all-too-familiar! The poor guy actually thought we would get better at teaching.

I kept the book mostly for his ideas on how people should go about learning in general. One strategy he recommends is having specific goals for your learning. "Two students of law once provided a good illustration: one learnt by heart long lists of clauses; the other imagined himself to be a farmer, with wife and children, and he related everything to this farm. If he had to draw up a will, he would say, 'I must not forget to provide for Minnie's education, and something will have to be arranged about that mortgage.' One moved in a world of half-meaningless words; the other lived in the world of real things.'

Even better: 'If you want to remember a subject and enjoy it, you must somehow find a way of linking it up with something in which you are really interested. It is very unlikely that you will find much entertainment in text-books. If you read only the text-books, you will find the subject dull. Text-books are written for people who already possess a strong desire to study mathematics: they are not written to create such a desire. Do not begin by reading the subject: begin by reading round the subject--books about real life, which somehow bring in the subject, which show how the subject came to be needed.' He even thinks reading about the history of mathematics, including biographies of the discoverers, will give you good insights into what's going on.

Strangely, he admits that it's possible for calculus that you might have no interest in any of the topics for which calculus is helpful, in which case you shouldn't worry about learning it. (He does not admit any such thing for any other normal math topic, including logarithms and trigonometry, though.)

I remember deciding something similar about college courses versus high school courses--they no longer try to be interesting. But my conclusion was that you were supposed to be able to just be mature and suck it up! (Wrong answer! Thank you for playing!) Although I did start looking at the recommended reading at the ends of chapters, and now during my books-from-other-countries project, I will usually follow up with some online research of some aspect of the book that interested me.

Another strategy he recommends is just messing around with things, trying to see patterns yourself. And he gives lots of exercises to help you do this efficiently for math topics.

But first, "It is essential, if you are trying to overcome your dread of a subject, to realize what is your first objective. Your first job is not to learn any particular result. It is to get rid of fear. You must go back a certain way, and start with work which you are absolutely sure you can do. In learning a foreign language, for instance, it is helpful to get a book written in that language for children just learning to read. However badly you have been taught, you will amost certainly be able to read it. This is your first victory--you have read a book genuinely written for the use of someone speaking a foreign language.'

Okay, last time I checked, I couldn't actually read kids' books because of the imperative, etc. but I get his point. He continues that every time you come to something you don't understand, go back to the prerequisite skills.

I'm not going to say I learned a lot of math reading the book. I already knew most of it, and my eyes glazed at most of the parts I didn't know. He did get me with a math puzzle, though. Awesome!

Then, terrifyingly, he says there are some subjects 'on which everybody disagrees. These are the subjects which do not depend on evidence at all--what you like, what you think ought to be done, the kind of person you admire, the political party you vote for; these are things for which you yourself take responsibility, they show what sort of person you are. You may be ready to fight to secure the type of world you think best; indeed, you should be. But you do not change your basic ideas of what is desirable as the result of argument and evidence.'

No! I don't want politics to not be based on rationality! But research supports him in general. (It's about emotion; when people hear things that disprove their beliefs, they discount them somehow and even end up even more entrenched in their beliefs.) Which makes me even angrier when people politicize things, because it pulls those things into the land of emotion.

(I'm still processing that idea. I don't like it. It's definitely not true for me. Or at least not totally true. I've changed several of my political opinions after learning more fects. [For example I changed from pro-life to pro-choice and, in the other direction, I became pro-concealed-carry (in the US, anyway).])

Finally, I even enjoyed the mini-biography of author, W.W. Sawyer, on the back of the book. In college he specialized in quantum theory and relativity. Then he swerved into researching applications of math to industry and strategies for teaching math to "industrial students." Then he taught college math in the Gold Coast (now called Ghana) to help Africans in their quest "master modern knowledge and achieve self government." Several years before Ghana gained independence! Then he moved to New Zealand to help them reduce their shortage of math teachers by organizing student groups sort of like Dead Poets Societies but about math. And during all this, he managed to get a wife and a kid. And he looks like a total dork. (He's in a respectable suit and tie, with respectably short hair--that will not do what it's told.)

In other silliness, apparently children do not have gender. They are referred to as "it/its."

So it turns out I'll be keeping that book.

Working at UT I generally get the whole week off between Christmas and New Year's, inclusive, sometimes more. We get the same number of days off as other state workers, but we bundle many of them up into this period.

I don't like to travel during this period because everyone else is doing so. Also, it's cold. I used to try to do projects, but if you don't get all of your supplies ahead of time, it might not work out because places are closed.

This year, Robin also has off since he's between jobs. And by the time I'm retired, he wants to be getting an income, so we might not have time off together for some time. Our cash flow is pretty terrible right now, but I do have savings. So I told Robin, hey, let's go somewhere.

Let's see where trains go. Let's see where buses go. Let's just go somewhere that's interesting to walk around, even if it's just Salado.

And ... we're going to New Orleans. (By car.) Neither one of has ever visited there. And even if most things are closed, it's still pretty to walk around in. We've reserved our hotel, so it's happening.

So feel free to give us suggestions. We already know we should try seafood, cajun food, and beignets. And apparently macaroni and cheese. (And we've already found burger places and a pho place.) Sadly, we're not really into jazz.

There's a sculpture garden outside the art museum. And apparently swamp tours, plantation tours, ghost tours, and cemetary tours (though these might be closed). An aquarium. And an insectarium. And they have a river running through town just like we do, except it's the Mississippi River.

Saturday we took a trip back to Robin's childhood and visited Mirando City, Texas, his favorite place he lived as a child (with the possible exception of Hawaii) and home of the best Tex Mex restaurant ever, where his family used to go every Friday night.

It's very easy to get to Mirando City from here. Go south on I-35 until you hit Laredo. Turn left on 359 and drive for about 30 minutes. Then turn right on 649 which is Main Street and go 1 mile.

We actually took a different slightly shorter route on the way there, but that's the route we took home.

The first half of the trip was full of wildflowers. Thank you Ladybird Johnson.

The second half was just South Texas land, which actually was quite pretty to me: mostly yellow grasses and bright green mesquite, with other grasses and bushes in multiple earth tones and, in the background, hilliness tinged with blue (like mountains are, even though there aren't any mountains). Also, millions of pale yellow butterflies.

First we stopped at Lala's Cafe. In the olden days, Lala and her kids and grandkids were all running around helping. Lala taught them to make their tortillas by hand: no tortilla press for them. The large plate was less than $1.00 and you could get an additional side of enchiladas for about $0.65. Robin could still taste those enchiladas forty years later.

Lala is gone now, though her picture is on the wall. We met a daughter and granddaughter of hers. They are still using the same recipes. The prices are about the same, too, except multiplied by ten. Robin got the large plate and side of enchiladas, just like in the olden days, plus a side of guacamole. I got the large plate as well.

Fortunately, this is not like "Scooby Doo," where you are embarrassed to have liked it so much as a kid--it's more like "Speed Racer," which is actually kind of good.

The most unique thing is that the crisp corn tortillas are super thick, so you don't have to worry about them going soggy, even when the tacos and chalupa are sitting in the enchilada gravy. So the tacos remind me of what are called "puffy tacos" in town, only not dripping with grease. I also love the taco meat and the rice, plus they use real cheese and plenty of it. Mostly it's what I expect from Tex Mex, but the enchilada gravy is more like a chicken gravy than a chili gravy (still good, though), and the guacamole is also not spicy (but still fresh and good).

Mimi, Lala's granddaughter, warned us that most people had left and that the teacherages were gone. Robin's family lived in a house reserved for teachers as part of their salary. Also, the schools are no longer in use--they had been consolidated in another small town. Still, we walked all around the place.

It was a lot like I had heard. The entire place was built on a grid of streets: about five streets by five streets. There was plenty of grass and scrub, though we didn't see any rattlesnakes, and it would have been great fun riding around on your bike as a kid (ages 7 - 11 like Robin was) and walking up and down the railroad tracks.

When Robin was taking a picture of a rusted-out oil-drilling thingy, a local pulled up and told us where to see a full antique one just north of town. Robin introduced himself, and it turns out they recognized each other's names. Fun! So that guy told us that the music teacher's teacherage was still there and we found it. But the rich guy's house was gone! Leveled.

The high school was still there, and with a historic sign on it. The newer elementary school, with its green glass brick was still there, too. Both were carefully boarded up with perfectly-sized boards. Some had warped and we could see inside.

Many, many of the remaining houses were also boarded up. As were many of the businesses. Although the area was rich with oil money, it doesn't look rich at all.

After our walk, we talked to Mimi a bit more and learned where many of the people had moved to: mostly Corpus Christi, but also San Antonio and Laredo.

We thought of spending the night in Laredo (googling showed that it's considered safe, though Nuevo Laredo across the border in Mexico is no longer considered safe at all), but it just looked like a generic city, so we just drove home.

Robin got permission to make a Facebook page. Which is why you can see my car in the picture! I'll link to Robin's Mirando City pictures when they are ready.

Blog entry of the day - Eco Cat Lady's How I Control Migraines Naturally - "Now for the triggers... and unfortunately they are numerous. It's pretty much impossible to avoid all of the things that can trigger headaches for me, but I've found that there's sort of a cumulative effect, so if I know that I'm gonna be exposed to one trigger, I try extra hard to avoid all of the other ones."

This is a very interesting and informative article. Fortunately, I don't get real migraines. My headache symptoms are all cute miniature versions of migraine symptoms, and ibuprofen kills them for me. But if you do get migraines, you may find an interesting idea or two in here to check out. Warning--the author loves lolcats.

Tropenmuseum

This morning we started out for a local market, but first we noticed the Tropenmuseum, which I'd read that you might be tempted to skip, but you shouldn't.

So we decided to check it out. It turned out to be a culture museum, but it didn't have just artifacts, it also had videos.

However, much of the museum was putting cultural traits in the context of environmental traits, so it was generally quite depressing. For example, in Suriname, people in the south used to farm and those in the north herded animals because it was drier in the north. Then in the dry season, the herders would come south and their animals would eat the farm stubble and fertilize the crops. Now the southerners want to raise their own animals and no longer welcome the herders, and the northerners want to grow their own crops, too, which doesn't work well because of the dryness.

Robin enjoyed seeing jeepneys which are old jeeps which have been converted for use as public transportation, especially in the Philippines. In our country, they might be called art cars. Robin says one of these played a key role in the book Cryptonomicon. We got to see a real one which they let us actually climb into. And we got to see them in action in videos. The decorations are amazing.

Robin also quite liked a car form covered in knitting to look like a red Ferrari Testarossa. (Robin tells me that Testarossa means "redhead" in Italian and the engine heads are painted in a red crackle finish in Testarossas because they just couldn't resist the pun.)

I learned you can make a dome just by making each circular brick layer out of fewer and fewer bricks. This way you can have rooms wider than the longest available tree trunks.

There was an interesting quote about Mexico City I didn't think to write down about how the city was killing everything around it in a horrible tragedy, but those who loved the city just couldn't resist her.

Some of the displays came together to cause me to ask myself: If I left my native culture (of the United States), what would I try to bring with me? Which artifacts? Which cultural norms and practices? I sure love not having to be religious. And I like being considered a real human being even though I'm female (and whatever else). I love ibuprofen, but it would eventually run out.

Dapperstraat Market

As we left, we saw this bike with plenty of carrying capacity.

We did find the market and also three grocery stores, none of which apparently struck me as photogenic. Then we were off to find the Houseboat Museum.

Hausbootmuseum

On the way, I decided to capture the inside of a tram.

Note the single seats on one side, double seats on the other. The accordion-looking part is flexible for when the track turns, but people also leaned against it. The next stop was announced both visually, as shown (actually, this is showing the time and that we are on the #10 line), and verbally, often in both Dutch and Liam-Neesen-accented English.

We did find the museum.

The brochure explains that this is a former commercial sailing ship built in 1914. Here is the entrance.

"The deckhouse, where the skipper's family resided, including the cupboard bed, is still in place."

This is the bigger bed of the two, if you can believe it (the other is across the way on the left). It's both longer and wider. Apparently the taller spouse sleeps on the doorway side.

"The former cargo hold has now been converted into a comfortable living space."

This actually does look quite livable to me. Here's the other side of that room.

This was described as the kitchen.

Here's a passageway with the level of the water outside illustrated inside. So technically the windows don't have to be so high in order not to be underwater or anything.

They also had a slide show with pictures of all kinds of houseboats that was fun. And we got to learn a bit more about the houseboat lifestyle.

Many, but not all, houseboats have been converted from regular boats. This sort of house must, by law, be brought into the shipyard for maintenance every four years. The required maintenance takes about a week to perform, during which time you may continue living in your house, though I assume your commute to work could change quite a bit.

Another kind of "houseboat" is made form concrete which, since it does not rust, is not required to be taken for maintenance. It tends to be more block shaped. Neither kind of houseboat is likely to have a motor and thus must be towed in order to be moved.

Next stop: red light district.

Pannenkoeken

But first, here's another typical Amsterdam view, with one wonky building.

Canal view at night.

Here's another nice bike.

Note the rack in front and the seat in back.

On the way, we found a place with pannenkoeken, which I'd wanted to try. These are Dutch pancakes. I'd heard they are thinner than what I'm used to, but thicker than crepes, and they are served mostly in savory flavors. I ordered one with cheese.

It was the size of a plate, perfectly cooked on one side, then broiled to finish off the other side and to make the cheese a golden brown. (In real life, they are not nuclear yellow--this is just what my camera does in poor lighting.)

It was moist and soft--only the cheese was crispy. It was very tasty, but the pancake part was faintly sweet, so I think I would have preferred a sweet flavor.

This restaurant also sold apple pie. Real Dutch apple pie looks different from how I make mine. The crust looks more like biscuits or cake and it's much taller. I never did taste any. (By this time, I was mostly craving savory things. The Dutch are really, really great at making sweet things that appeal to me, but not so much savory).

Red Light District

As we neared the red light district, the streets became crowded with pedestrians and were full of bars and delicious-looking restaurants and plenty of bright lights. The district itself was also crowded and well-lit, and thin ladies who wore bikini-type outfits and posed, wiggled, smiled (even to me), and motioned people in.

Our guide for the bicycle tour told us that in each room there are at least three buttons that the ladies can hit to get help so that no matter what someone does to them, there should always be one within reach. Some of them are hidden. And police arrive quickly, like one minute.

Adjacent to this district is, apparently, Chinatown. At least there are all kinds of Asian restaurants and markets.

We also saw this narrow church.

And here's a terrible picture, but it shows the hooks at the tops of the buildings.

In real life, these buildings seemed to lean in over us in a threatening way.

We popped out of this area of narrow streets at a building that looks like a castle.

It turns out to be a fancy restaurant...

...built in 1617.

The nearest tram stop was at Central Station, so we bought our tram tickets for the next day.

Going Home

We took a tram and train back to the airport after all, just as we had come, no longer afraid. The train was quite crowded--we were perched near the stairwell.

I couldn't resist getting a snack I found in a snack machine at the train station for a friend. Robin said, "Travis has dreamed all of his life of these gummy apeheads." They turned out to be licorice and banana flavored.

I had decided to exchange any remaining euros for Leonidas chocolates and did in fact have some money left with which to do so.

Due to the actions of a friend of Robin's, we got some fancier seating on the flight from London to Chicago. I liked that you could lean your seat back without affecting the person behind you. And all of a sudden, unlike in coach, they understand that people like to drink a lot of water. Being stuck between two strangers, I tried to time my bathroom trips while one of them was up. But people really set up camp in this section more than in the sardine section, so it's not that easy to get out.

I remember feeling like an impostor. Not even just as a prole riding with royalty, but also like a little kid trying to act grown up. (Only I have a much better disguise for the latter now than in the olden days. Surely.) No jumping up and down on the seat. And oh, yes, I know just what this hot wet washcloth is for.

We got back a little early(!?) and so it was no problem for me to go to work the next day.

While doing my final research for this entry, I found the ingredient list of some hummus that I really liked (except for the salsa on top) from one of the stores. I had no idea what most of it meant, but figured the internet would be my friend (when I got home and it was fast and reliable again).

* gekooktekikkerwten (42%) - cooked chickpeas
* zuurteregelarr (E-500) - apparently sodium carbonate, a base used as an acid regulator and/or anti-caking agent; zuur is acid and E-500 is, specifically, sodium carbonate.
* plantaardige oile - plant oil
* water - water
* sesamzaad-pasta (sesamzaad, zout) - sesame seed paste (sesame seed, salt) (aka tahini)
* tomaten concentraat - tomato puree
* wortelen, - carrots
* zout - salt
* specerijen - spices
* voedingszuur - food acid (?)
* citroenzuur - citric acid
* peterselie - parsley
* gedroogde chilipepper (0.2%) - dried chili pepper (0.2%)
* geconcentreerd citroensap - concentrated lemon juice
* gedroogde koriander - dried coriander

Well, I'm hardly cooking up something with a food additive as the #2 ingredient. I hope that's not what made this magical. I think I already knew to use tahini and lemon juice. Oh, well.

Overall a good trip, but I felt quite touristy in a bad way. Not as good as visiting friends who have a bit of a clue about what's cool and how things work. I may want to look into visiting my next foreign country a different way. Looneymarble has made it clear to me that a group tour is not necessarily the way to go, either, though some groups may attract more fun people than others (would tours for college alumni be better if you liked your college?).

I miss those bike lanes. I don't miss the cold (actually, I've been experiencing the same cold, but with no snow, all week). I liked the trams but they were expensive. I miss the sweets but not the savories. I don't miss spending so many euros.

So, I leave you with this typical tourist shot.

Commuting through Amsterdam

First, an obligatory lichen shot. Some people are bird watchers--I admire plants that can grow on rocks. Though I don't learn their names or have a life list.

Here's an over-the-top light pole.

Here's a broader view of that same bridge.

Because you needed to see a string of those over-the-top lightposts in context with multiple fake ship bows.

Here's a building with a lot of red shutters.

I have a fascination with real shutters. They can be so useful. Even in these windows that are such a silly shape to make real shutters for.

I don't think I'd like lichens on shutters, though. Two great tastes that don't go together.

And here's another fine example of the triple crosses of protection.

Here's a modern building, and I think it's on a street with a street market.

Rembrandt's house

We saw all those things on our way to our first stop of the day: Rembrandt's house. Finally we got to see the inside of one of the tall, skinny houses. And they let us take pictures! (I didn't use a flash, though.)

(I wonder why we call Rembrandt van Rijn "Rembrandt" and Vincent van Gogh "van Gogh.")

Of course I can hardly claim it is a representative Dutch house. Rembrandt bought it at the height of his career, but still couldn't afford it. He never paid the mortgage and ended up in bankruptcy. So, I expect it's a rather finer-than-average place.

At the time of this bankruptcy, many of his things were sold off and records were kept. So they had a clue on how to refurnish the house when it became a museum.

So, shall I show you inside?

Here is the center stairwell.

Robin really liked the hand rail because couldn't fit his whole foot on the step. I think I could have, but I actually walked up it sideways myself. You can see from the wear pattern that no one uses the inside part.

Each floor had two to three rooms. Maybe they all had three rooms, but we were always allowed into the front and rear rooms and only sometimes was there a room sticking out one side room into which we were allowed. On the bottom floor were the kitchen and the living room/bedroom. The notes say that the kitchen was the most comfortable room in the house, I'm guessing because it was warm. It's certainly huge.

The cook slept in a "box bed" in one wall.

In the living room was Rembrandt's box bed. I expect that this sort of bed was more protected from drafts than beds out in the middle of the floor.

This room does look a tiny bit fancy.

The next floor up has the entry. Here is where he welcomed visitors. In his chair by the window, he could watch the traffic go by (when the shutter was open).

Then he would take them to the ante room (through that door) to do business. Like many other artists, he was also an art dealer, selling both his own works and those of others.

In back room he kept his favorite works (maybe).

In the back room of the next floor, he stored his collections.

He did his painting in the front room. Here's where the paints were mixed (usually by an apprentice) (notice how there are no tubes of paint here).

Here's a side view of a huge easel. You can see that even with the bottom shutters closed, there's still some good light in here.

He didn't just paint, he also did etchings. I haven't been a fan in the past, but this one of Amsterdam I photographed and later, in the Rijksmuseum gift shop, I bought the refrigerator magnet version to take home.

Here's a view of his courtyard.

And another view.

Here's the front.

Mmm. Green shutters.

Commuting through Amsterdam some more

Here's a silly cafe next door to Rembrandt's house.

Here is a view of another modern building taken from a bridge. I remember that a guy was blowing bubbles here, making people smile, but soap on the wet surface was very, very slick.

After this visit, we dropped some stuff off at home and returned to the Rijksmuseum. So I got some more shots from our neighborhood.

The flamingos were out.

Here's my old pal the stegosaurus again.

And here's the other dinosaur looking very fierce.

"Don't think I don't see you there."

Then I tried to capture the way they do their roads.

You can see the tram lane in the middle, then the car lane, then the car parking, then the bike lane (brick color), then the sidewalk (grey color). Notice how you can park your car without entering the bike lane. My city's method of just making the bike lanes extra wide to fit parallel parking in them seems barbarian by comparison.

Here's a shot of some traffic lights.

You can't see the light for cars from here, but I had perfect timing so the other three were all different colors. The small tram light is red, the bicycle light is yellow, and the pedestrian light is green. Cool, eh?

Night Watch

They did let us take a picture of the outside of the Rijksmuseum. This side is not under construction.

Robin really likes Rembrandt's Night Watch, so we went back to look at that for a while. Back in those days it was common to paint a portrait of a company of men, but you generally posed them standing in rows. In this painting, he caught them all in action, much more fun.

The most shocking thing I learned about it was that the edges were cut off so that it could be fitted into the spot made for it in a (different) museum. Unbelievable.

I actually preferred the painting on the other end of the room from Night Watch, Frans Hals and Pieter Codde's The Meagre Company. It is also a painting of a bunch of guys, but these guys, although kind of standing in rows, are gesturing and talking and doing other small things and so it's still interesting and you can see more of their personalities than in a regular painting. The other fascinating thing was that they were so clearly real people. For example, one was Nicolas Cage. Another was Robin Williams.

Etching

We also learned a little about etching. First you cover a sheet of copper with a thin layer of a wax mixture. Then you carve through this (and maybe sometimes through the copper as well, for bolder lines). Then put the whole thing in a mildly acidic solution to etch the copper in all the places where the wax mixture was scraped away. Then wipe off the coating and cover the whole thing with ink (the consistency of oil paint) kind of like silk screening. Then scrape it off the surface (leaving some behind in the etched areas). Then wipe more ink off with gauze. Then wipe even more off by rubbing it with chalk dust with the side of your hand. Then finally put it on one of those big printing press machines, lay a piece of paper over it and roll a weight across it. Ta da!

I learned that I like how Rembrandt etched curly hair (as well as how he etched windmills and tall skinny buildings).

Bye-bye Rijksmuseum.

Canal Cruise

We went on a lovely, romantic evening canal cruise, since taking a canal cruise is a must-do according to all the tour books. The tour guide was rather terrible, though. He sure liked to go on and on about a lot of boring things. And since most of the few people on the boat were ignoring him, he looked to me as his audience, thus pressuring me to not roll my eyes that much.

I now think (based on these two data points, plus one from Jamaica) that the best tour guides are outsiders who love the place and then move there. (Our bike tour guide was from England, and our Jamaica tour guide was an outsider, too.)

He did teach me the name for bell gables (which must be the ones that look like singing sisters to me). And step gables (the most common kind in Belgium). And I noticed for the first time that bell gables are semi-false fronts--the roofs behind them are just regular pointed roofs.

On gables you might find gable hooks for hauling things up to the top floor. And you might find gable stones with address-like things such as the profession of the resident. (There were no house numbers (or family names) until Napoleon.) Many gable stones have gone missing, but it's fashionable to replace them now.

We saw a one-window-wide house (less than two meters wide). But it's not the narrowest house. In one area, regular lots are seven meters wide, but double lots (14 meters) were sold for a while. Those houses were 40 meters deep. So each floor of the regular lot was a little smaller than my house, but there are several floors.

I noticed some houses with parallelogram floorplans. I first noticed this when I saw ceiling beams at a 45-degree angle from what I expected considering they were going from one side of the room to the other. Normally such beams would be parallel to the front wall.

This guide is the one who told us that the vibrations from modern cars (and, fairly recently, trucks) are part of what causes the foundation troubles for buildings these days. Modern foundations are concrete and are 30 - 40 meters high.

He said Holland was the richest of the seven provinces of the Netherlands, and so the only one most foreigners cared about, so that's why people sometimes refer to the Netherlands as Holland.

He also said that the Calvinist rulers required the rich (in guilds) to finance welfare such as almshouses and orphanages. He said the Palace of Justice (to be replaced in two years) used to be an orphan house. And the Hermitage had old ladies living in it as late as three years ago.

He showed us hand-holds (handles) on the under side of some of the bridges. The canals are only three meters deep, so barges can be poled through them except under low bridges. So the hand-holds let them pull their barge through.

We also saw a Mennonite church which looked to me to be straight out of the American West, a white wood church building , right between all the Amsterdam-looking buildings.

Commuting in the dark

On the way back we saw this car.

Robin says it's quite rare, since it was built in the days before rustproofing, so enjoy!

Our neighborhood

Today was museum day. To get to the museumplein, we tried a new tram into town. This required us to turn the other direction when leaving our hotel.

First, here is a picture of a window just like ours. (Remember, I told you it would be smaller than it looked.)

Here's an interesting building just down the street.

And remember how we're in the area with the zoo? It's also the area with the aquarium and quite a few other things we didn't see. But I couldn't resist this stegosaurus, perhaps my favorite dinosaur.

And this apotosaurus (aka brontosaurus). Not usually a favorite, but totally irresistible here.

Lunch

The first thing we did when we got to the Museumplein was to get hot drinks. Yea! They came with cookies!

We almost forgot to pay. We went to several places where you order at a counter and then they don't take your money. Then they serve you. Then you go back to the counter to pay. Disconcerting.

Then Robin couldn't resist this burger stand.

Look at their truck (for catering?)!

Speaking of cute little motorized vehicles, check this out.

There's actually plenty of room inside for two people. And Winnie-the-Pooh.

We spent time time in a gift shop and then headed for the Stedelijk Museum (City Museum), a really big art museum. But it was basically closed. A guy in the security area said no paintings were available for viewing but the Rodins had been moved to the Van Gogh museum.

Van Gogh museum

Vincent Van Gogh and his brother started life working for an art dealer. Vincent had to be let go when a new-found religiousness interfered with his job duties. Then he decided to make art himself.

The museum exhibits were very well done. There were lots of interesting descriptions, plus they included artwork that inspired him (sometimes with quotes from him) and art by people who were inspired by him.

I found out the reason he did a lot of self-portraits was because it was a way to practice doing portraits without having to pay for models. He also practiced by re-doing other paintings and even Japanese prints.

We also got to see an actual vase his sister-in-law saved that was pictured in several of his paintings, and it was displayed next to one of those paintings.

It was during Van Gogh's lifetime that it became reasonably possible to paint outside for the first time. For example, paint became available in tubes. Later, one could paint from photos, adding color back in, and still being able to change the emphasis, exaggerate things, change the time of day, etc.

He thought it would be cool to start an artist commune where the residents would be an inspiration to each other. To lure one of his friends to join, he painted several paintings for his rooms. His friend stayed something like three months before they argued and split up, and that was the end of his commune.

He always tried to really say something special with his paintings and always felt that he had failed, partly because everyone told him so. He was mostly made fun of during his lifetime. At best, he was considered a crude imitation of other, better painters. He attempted a masterpiece with The Potato Eaters (several different people all in one painting), but when it flopped, too, he decided never to do another.

All in all, a really great museum, even though I'm not much of a Van Gogh fan.

(Note: we could find only one Rodin in the Van Gogh museum.)

Lunch

Next, we hunted for Wagamama, recommended highly by Robin's friend, J.O., as his favorite noodle house ever.

On the way, there was an unexpected lizard.

And this building has very interesting windows, both in the corner and on the side.

The one we were looking for was said to be near the Hard Rock Cafe. We were getting warmer.

Score!

I tried a potsticker thing and a fried noodle thing. They were whole grain, tasty, and interesting, and probably the healthiest thing I'd eaten so far, but not a favorite of mine. So sad. (Though the nearest one to me now is in Boston, so maybe it's just as well.)

Here is a nice bicycle. Check out the basket, leather handle grips, leather seat with spring, reinforcements. This one also has a mesh reinforcement for the rear fender.

Rijksmuseum

We spent an hour at the Rijksmuseum (State Museum) (pronounced sort of like RIKES-museum) before it closed.

(Robin liked this next building better--you'll hear more about this company later because we signed up here for a canal tour the next evening.)

The Rijksmuseum was full of fabulous paintings from the Dutch masters. We also saw two dollhouses that were each so big that we were provided step ladders so we could see into all the floors. And we saw a huge model ship.

Dinner

We wandered around a bit more, then ate groceries from yesterday's trip to the store. I learned that I quite like Swiss cheese at room temperature. Who knew?

I leave you with this image of neon mammals from somewhere in Leidseplein.

The Hermitage

After a lovely breakfast of cheesy pastries, we started the day with a trip to the Amsterdam branch of the Hermitage. On the way, we saw this cool houseboat.

The Hermitage is huge. However, it's pretty new and still fairly empty. They have only a couple of permanent exhibits. One is on the Hermitage (greatly expanded by Catherine the Great who, when she heard of the death of a collector, would send someone to buy the entire collection). The other permanent collection has things like a copy of a kitchen from the 1700s, only Robin felt there were clear anachronisms.

And there was one exhibit on loan, however, on Alexander the Great. (Had I known, I might have read up a bit on him first.) When he was my age, he'd been dead for 14 years. We didn't stay long--Robin had no interest. It occurred to me, though, that whenever Alexander the Great wanted to visit an interesting new place, he would conquer it. And there I was whining about how my money wouldn't work.

Buildings and food

So then we wandered around a couple of squares that were recommended for tourists. We saw this over-the-top gothic post office I'd read about in the tour books.

Then we saw this building:

I thought it was pretty and didn't even notice the words. They probably mean "Cleve Port" (the port of Cleve), not, "Die! Port van Cleve."

Here's a torture museum. I've been in too many torture museums already--I don't need any more horrible pictures etched into my brain forever. But the outside is cool looking.

You can walk through this building:

(Something tells me this was not all original--there may have been some adding on.)

Here's an example of one of those buildings that's not quite as upright as it once was.

No one will notice it's leaning over if we just fill in the extra part with bricks. And push the sign over so that it's leaning even more.

Here's some interesting building decoration:

Walking down one interesting narrow street, I noticed the Van Dobben, which is where I'd read that you should go for croquets. (And it says right on the sign, "Prima Croquetten"!) So we did.

I'd forgotten what croquets were, though, other than some kind of fried something. After getting one, I still didn't know. Here's what one looks like:

The goo inside tasted like chicken soup. Dipping it in mustard is a pretty good idea.

Turns out it's fried mashed potatoes (with flavorings). We decided we could totally sell this at the State Fair as Fried Chicken Soup, though.

Look at this very interesting building. I really like all the real shutters.

But some of them don't really open all the way. And some of the windows don't let in as much light as one might hope. Oops. (I assume the building on the right is the newer building. Surely.)

Then we came back to the hotel. As you can see, we had the sign of the triple X keeping us safe at night over our bed.

Also on our wardrobe. So our clothes (and groceries) were safe, too.

See how it looks like two beds pushed together?

Really it's two half-comforters. Turns out we like that. Also, that window, which looks like a perfectly reasonable size, is actually quite small (picture later).

We went in search of the local grocery store, which we eventually found. On the way, we saw this pretty bird:

And some pretty modern buildings:

We saw this thingy that lets you decide which year had the cooler-looking trains:

We didn't find any fabulous bargains (you never know what's going to be cheap in another place), but we found plenty of tasty things. I got very delicious bread. And a soft garlic-flavored cheese. And a nutpack with cashews on one side and chocolate-covered peanuts on the other.

Library

I'd read and heard in lots of places that, bizarre as it seems, one simply must visit the new library. And so we did. There was a lot of construction, and I didn't know exactly where it was, but by this point, I was pretty sure we were going to be able to find it:

Notice that oddly boat-looking thing near it? Turns out that's the science museum. And it has a real boat in front of it.

(Sadly, that real boat reminds me of the boats in front of Treasure Island in Las Vegas.)

Here's what the library looks like from the front:

There are computers with internet access everywhere.

Here's an interesting staircase:

That counter on the left has a bunch of brochures on current happenings. (Too bad I forgot to go back and take a closer look; got distracted.)

There are all kinds of seating.

Here's a private area:

I decided this might be Di's favorite:

And this might be my favorite:

There's a whole floor for kids.

I like these characters on the children's floor:

There are art and video displays and what looks to me like a dance floor.

This display of yellow and orange thingies really grabbed my eye.

The escalators are well-labeled.

And there's a practice piano--no uptightness about not making noise, but they do want you to actually already know how to play the piano.

(Reflected in the piano is a guy who is just about to sit down at the piano. I snapped that picture in the nick of time!)

In summary, I'd have to agree. Cool library.

Another houseboat

We started with a houseboat, and we'll end with a striking houseboat we saw on the way back.

I think they might not enjoy solicitors. Or maybe they just don't like ordinary doorbells.

Robin wanted to rent bikes and ride them everywhere. I didn't like how it would be so easy to get lost and so hard to talk to each other, plus being in a foreign country I didn't feel comfortable, plus I don't like riding bikes. So we decided to start with a bike tour. This was my favorite part of the whole trip.

We picked a place that was easy to get to. Just leave the hotel, turn left, go two blocks, turn left, and keep going until we get there. Turns out it was not so easy to stay on that street and we ended up way off course. We saw some nice things, though.

At one point, we knew we wouldn't make it in time for the tour, but then we decided to try anyway, and we made it after all.

History of the Netherlands

First we got a brief history lesson. The following is how I interpreted the tour guide and has not been confirmed and thus should be taken with a grain of salt.

The whole area is naturally boggy. If people stopped trying to keep the water out, all of Amsterdam would be under water.

Originally people came for the fishing and the bog peat (which makes a good fuel). It's always been a center for trade. And it's always been a shipping center. The people tend to be daring. They made bigger ships than the others, and this led to their hey day.

The Dutch are not creative with naming things. You have the Amstel River, the Amstel Dam, and the town, Amsterdam. You have the Old Church and the New Church, the East Church and the West Church. You can tell where they colonized by the names: South Africa. East Indies.

Britain and Spain cut them off, so they lost power, but they stayed out of World War I (though reputed to have started it). They helped move food around and got rich.

They tried to stay out of World War II, but Hitler bombed one city to the ground over five days. They learned the lesson and didn't resist. They were occupied many years and, being a haven to weirdos (like Jews) (remember all that bit in history class about people escaping to Holland back when America was a colony because of the open mindedness?), they suffered huge losses (1/4 to 1/3 of the population). The Canadians finally came to their rescue, but when the Nazis left, they took all the bicycles with them. You'll still hear creative cheers at sporting events against the Germans such as "Bring back my grandmother's bicycle!"

Hippies were big in the Netherlands, taking over all the parks. In the 1970s, real estate was down, so speculators bought it up, but they let it get run down. Meanwhile, there were lots of homeless hippies. So a law was made that if your property was vacant for over a year (as pointed out by a potential squatter and confirmed by neighbors), squatters could move in. After that it became difficult, though possible, to get your property back. It would take 1 1/2 to 2 years to get through all the paperwork.

Without these squatters rights, Amsterdam would not be what it is today. The squatters moved in, had the plumbing and gas turned on, and would start businesses. Being not being very entrepreneurial, they would have art galleries. Or collect things and become museums. Amsterdam still has a lot of art galleries and museums.

But letting all the hippies come in led to drug problems. The Dutch once had the highest rates for hard drug addiction. But the main drug was cannabis. Cannabis was decriminalized so you could consume it without being exposed to hard drugs. The Dutch had the first free needle exchange program, methadone clinics, and drug counseling. Fifteen years later, the Dutch were at the bottom of the list for hard drug addiction.

Cannabis is not legal, though, and is imported, so who knows what the money supports. The West (especially the US) is pressuring them not to make it legal. So in the future, tourists will not be allowed. You'll have to become a member, and to do that, you'll have to be a resident.

Canals

After the history lesson, we got lessons on how to use our bikes and then we rode all over the place. It was a three-hour tour with one pub stop.

Our first stop was on a bridge over a canal. All the canals have locks and these are managed to create flow. So although there is no tidal flow, there is very little smell, even in summer (unlike in Venice where the canals cannot be controlled).

Architecture

Salt water is part of the canals and is needed to preserve the building foundations which start, on the bottom, with wood (from the tall, straight poplar) and clay. Then layers of leather 1 meter thick and of sand 2 meters thick are added. The sand traps the water water as it rises and falls to keep the moisture balance needed to preserve the foundations. Of the 400-year-old foundations, 30% are still in good shape, 20% need fixing, and 50% have been repaired. There weren't really any problems with foundations until cars started tooling around the city--those vibrations were more than the foundations could tolerate.

When a foundation fails, the building on top of it may lean on its neighbor.

The houses are small and tall because they are taxed yearly based on their footprint. This leads people to politely save land for their neighbors. Small bricks are used because they have more flexibility; big bricks are more likely to crack.

Brackets are also used to help hold buildings together. (I first noticed these brackets, which look like giants staples, in Belgium. It's cool to finally know what they are for.) (I also learned that Belgium used to be part of the Netherlands.)

Hooks near the top of the building let you winch your things up and put them through a window so you won't have to bring them up the stairs. Having the top of the building lean out gives you more leeway on windy days.

Houseboats were introduced to house the people who helped with rebuilding after the war. They were made cool by hippies. They have no footprint tax but there is a limit of 2,600 houseboats allowed in Amsterdam. That limit has now been reached so, due to the laws of supply and demand, houseboats now cost as much as regular houses. They are just as comfortable (if not more so because there are no steps inside).

Zoo

Our hotel is on the old Jewish side with the tax-free docks. A lot of ships would arrive from distant lands with pets or mascot animals that they dropped off in Amsterdam. So the area became known for the mystical creatures that roamed it. And this led to what is now the oldest zoo.

Windmills

There were once 800 windmills at the harbor. Why windmills? They couldn't build water mills because the land was so flat that the water flow was too slow. But flat land is good for wind and thus windmills.

These were used to pump water. First, you build some high ground. Then start the perimeter walls. The top section of the windmill turns--the wheel does not make contact with the deck. Set up the sails so they cover the trellis. (These are rolled up at the edge of the trellis in the pictured windmill.)

The wind turns it which turns a vertical cog which turns a horizontal cog which powers an Archimedes screw which pumps water up when suction is created. Once the islands were formed, some windmills might continue to pump water, but the others were converted to other uses. The one pictured above is a brewery. Maintaining a historical windmill reduces your tax, so you can charge less for your beer.

Old Entry Harbor

We also saw an armory/naval headquarters, at the old entry to Amsterdam. If you attack, they will defend.

Now there's a science museum that looks like a sinking ship. Cruise ships dock here. And there's a library that's considered one of the top five libraries in the world even though it's only five years old. It has great technology, the space is fantastic, and it's basically everything a library should be.

St. Andrew's Crosses

We saw a church with a St. Andrew's cross on it, which is tilted so it forms an X (see the top window below).

We've been seeing X's everywhere, usually in groups of three. It turns out that the three X's are for protection from the three scariest things. Want to guess what the three scariest things were to the Dutch in the olden days? Remember, it's at sea level or below. Also, the houses used to be made of wood.

One of the things was fire. The entire town has burned down. Twice. You used to have to pull your house down when it caught fire by using a hook to pull on loops in our walls to hopefully save your neighbor's houses.

The second thing was flood. Other Dutch cities have been completely flooded in the past.

The third thing was disease. This was quite prevalent before they learned not to throw their waste into the canals.

Calvinist churches like the one shown above were traditionally round so the preacher wouldn't be in front of and above everyone.

Brown Bars

Brown bars are green but full of wood panels inside. To impress the locals, order a jenever (the Dutch word for juniper).

Tram Tickets

At the end of the tour, Robin got our tour guide to tell us how to deal with trams. He said you can buy tickets, for cash, at any news agent. Such as the one just up the street. Which we easily found. And we bought five-day passes which turned out to be a fabulous idea (except 7-day passes would have been better). Our maps showed the trams, and we never really got lost again the way we would have with bikes or with only walking.

Spui

After getting tram tickets, we went back to our favorite part from the tour: Spui (pronounced sort of like "Spow"). I really wanted to check out the almshouse courtyard. Anyone can just walk right through that arched wooden door.

Then you are here.

Check out the floor.

And all this is inside.

Did you know that some people have a hobby of touring almshouses?

We spent the rest of the evening just wandering around town.

We had some street food. Robin had the famous raw herring ("haring" in Dutch).

We also had pastries. (Sorry about the terrible lighting--these were actually good.)

I don't know why everyone is bent over (except the kids) in this mural.

This was very sparkly, all done up for Christmas.

I really liked the ceiling in this shop.

Then we took the tram back to the hotel and collapsed.

On Biking

If we lived in Amsterdam, we would be bicycling everywhere. They have more bikes than people. They have bikes lanes everywhere, separate from the sidewalks, the streets, and the parking. Bicyclists have their own traffic signals--so if they have a green light, cars will have a red light and won't turn right in front of you. Most of the lanes are wide enough to pass people on. The only confusing thing is that the bike lanes look sort of like sidewalks, though a different color. If you do accidentally walk in a bike lane, an approaching cyclist will ring a bell (natives only once, tourists, perhaps more). (I'll show you some pictures later.)

I had no trouble biking during this tour because things were so flat (except the bridges). For a while I was panting and having real trouble keeping up, but it turned out it was because my tire was going flat. After that was fixed, it was easy again.

In the US, avid cyclists say it's safest to ride in the street with the cars (at least at the intersections where drivers tend not to notice anything in bike lanes or on sidewalks). I think people in Amsterdam would be just as horrified by that idea as I am.

But while we were in Amsterdam, we went with trams. We were still clueless tourists, after all.

The first day of our trip we spent in airports and on airplanes. Maudi's tacos at two for $3.50 were cheaper and better than the food for sale on the strangely empty flight to Chicago. In the Chicago airport, I quite enjoyed getting Chicago-style pizza. On our flight to London, we lucked out with extra wide seats that did not have TV screens on the seatbacks in front of us (they pulled out of the armrest).

We got to London so early that they didn't know which gate we'd be flying out of. When this happens in the US, they send you to some random empty gate and then tell you that the gate has changed. But in London, they just tell you what time to expect that information.

The part of the airport we were in had our favorite English chain restaurant (Pret a Manger, though it was just called Pret), and J's favorite chain restaurant in The Netherlands (Wagamama).

Adventures on the last flight

The pilot for our flight to Amsterdam, in a wonderful British accent, explained that although we had been assigned a time slot for leaving, that slot had already passed because the plane had been late coming in from Amsterdam due to bad weather. We were given a new slot, but it was two hours away. We might be moved up before then, but probably only a few minutes. Meanwhile, we had to pull away from the terminal to make room for another plane.

(This reminded me of that episode on the Simpsons where Homer is getting a present for Bart, and each time the storekeeper says something, Homer goes back and forth between saying, "that's good" and "that's bad." We have a time slot--that's good! But it's already passed--that's bad. Now we have a new time slot--that's good. But it's two hours away--that's bad. But we might get moved up--that's good. But only a few minutes--that's bad.) It turns out we didn't have to wait the whole two hours after all, more like 30 minutes.

I was able to fall asleep briefly on this flight but awoke just as the flight attendant asked me "Take off your wah-tern?" Over and over. He wanted me to take out my earplugs so I could understand him, but earplugs were not the problem. Finally, I figured it out and replied "water, please." He had been asking "Tea, coffee, or water?"

Once we got close to Amsterdam, it was time for another story in that lovely British accent. We'd been circling to land, but there was a long line of planes waiting to land, and our time slot was so far in the future that we didn't have enough fuel. As our airline prioritizes safety, we were going to land in Brussels and refuel.

(I was hoping he was going to say that we'd land at The Hague, because a lady next to us was trying to make a meeting there. But no.) (The guys behind us were upset that obviously the plane hadn't refueled in London as it should have.) (Mmmm, Brussels.)

About one minute later, the pilot explained that Schiphol had changed their minds and given us a better time slot for which we did have enough fuel. It was fun watching the graphic of our plane's flight show us making another U-turn.

Later he learned that the back-up of planes at the airport had gotten so out of control that they'd decided to open another landing strip, but the taxi back to the terminal would take a while: 10 minutes.

After landing, the plan was to take a train into town and then a tram to the hotel.

How to Get Money

In the past when I traveled to Europe, I brought a credit card and used an ATM to get local money. But I'd read that (especially with all the horrible fees they add for foreign use of cards) it's better to bring cash and exchange it at a particular bank which has better fees, and this bank has branches right at the airport. We did not, however, find any of those branches. We found branches of another bank with terrible rates.

Then we decided to try buying the train tickets from a machine with a credit card and put off exchanging money. None of our credit or debit cards worked. It turns out that you need both a PIN and a chip. Do any American credit cards even come with a chip?

Our credit cards also didn't work at the train ticket window. The clerk there was appalled at the insecurity. You mean we just sign for purchases? And it's worse that that! Sometimes, we'd rather sign than use a PIN because we don't want to trust stores with our PINs!

So we went to the expensive bank. I decided to exchange a small amount of money there and hold out for the better bank to exchange the rest. Then we went back to the counter and bought train tickets with euros. (On our way back, there was an announcement that due to technical difficulties, these counters could not sell tickets for cash. I don't know what we would have done if this had happened on our way in.)

After getting off the train, we needed to buy tram tickets, but all the machines required credit cards with chips. We waited in various lines to ask people what to do, and let me just say that although the rumors we heard that basically all the Dutch speak English is true, they were not very good at explaining to us how to by tram tickets.

Finally, we walked all the way down the long hall before exiting to look for "the white building" where we pulled a number, waited a bit and got one-way tram tickets. Robin vowed never to ride the tram again. We considered taking an overpriced shuttle from the hotel directly to the airport.

Our paranoid map checking allowed us to have no trouble finding our hotel and we had no trouble checking in. But after lugging our suitcases around all day, it seemed that for a place that's so famously flat, there are an awful lot of steps.

A lovely walk

We ran out for a short walk before it got dark. (Sunset in Amsterdam in December is at 5:30.)

Here's a little park and canal near our hotel.

Here is a row of buildings. Some of them lean forward a bit.

We found out the next day that sometimes the leaning is due to settling on foundations that are not quite good enough and sometimes forward leaning is intentional. (More information on that later.)

Here's a close-up view of an interesting bridge rail near our hotel.

Each panel is different.

Here are more buildings and a tram. I can't help thinking of the middle three buildings as sisters singing in a trio. See their hair and shoulders? Their white noses and square mouths?

Here's a night view of a canal. We heard that Amsterdam has more canals than Venice. Canals certainly used to be the obvious choice for transportation.

The early sunset was not problem for us that day. We fell into bed at 5:30. The bed was so extraordinarily horizontal (compared to plane chairs). It was positively luxurious.

I'm ready as I'll ever be for our upcoming one-week trip to The Netherlands.

Vacation time was requested and approved. Robin got plane tickets and made hotel reservations. We got new passports (old ones already expired!).

We've researched things to do and gotten tour books. Friends and friends of friends have made recommendations.

We've contacted our credit card companies and told them we have travel plans. The slimy one called us (automatically) at 8:15 the next morning at our home number to confirm--not that great of an idea on a workday or a weekend day.

We've finished off most of our Thanksgiving leftovers and put the rest in the freezer. All the bills are paid and the library books are returned or renewed. The laundry and dishes are caught up.

I was worried about the shrinking battery life of my beloved camera, which disappoints me just about every time I want to take pictures, so I just went and got a whole new camera. The pictures seem okay (hard to tell if they're just as good). The battery charges in just 1.5 hours. The memory card is huge. Basically, getting a lower-quality camera but waiting six or eight years to do so means that some things are actually better.

I did find a pretty good site for learning how to pronounce Dutch (http://www.learndutch.nu/). Most of the letters make sense. Some are hard to remember. The craziest for me is "ui." For example, the word "huis" sounds not at all like "Huey's" but somewhat like "house." And it actually means house. From there it goes on to pronouns and stuff, though, which I never quite got around to. I more wanted to learn how to say, "Please," "Thank-you," "Do you speak English?" and "Could you please spell that?" But most Netherlanders speak English, so it shouldn't be too scary. And I have a phrase book for my flight entertainment. And the complete Sherlock Holmes.

We have a friend who insisted on bring us to the airport and picking us up.

We're packed.

Bedtime now. The next entry should be a bit more interesting, whenever it happens.

Next month, Robin and I are going to the Netherlands. We'll be staying in Amsterdam.

Temperatures average in the forties. December is also the rainiest month--it's drizzly rather than thunderstormy, though. The sun sets at 4:30 and rises at 8 am. I don't know why this isn't the tourist season.

It's fun to hear recommendations.

J.O. says they have great museums and food and his favorite coffee shop. (Some of the food is a cross between British and German food. But they are good at snacks and street food and they are good at adopting ideas from their immigrants.) He has also shown us beautiful pictures. He says to hang out in the museum district and stay far away from the red light district.

T.B. says it's totally flat and otherwise perfect for bicycling. Also, they make cheese and glass.

I've just started doing book research. I'm looking forward to the geography. It's full of canals; tall, skinny buildings; and special roadways and even traffic lights just for bicyclists. They have crepe-like pancakes. They have rice-tables--bowls of rice with lots of different foods to try mixed in. In December, they have oil balls (fried doughnuts). They have chocolate--not only is there hot chocolate and chocolate-filled balls of chocolate; there are even chocolate sprinkles for the breakfast bread.

I will dress warmly. I will eat more ham than usual, just like I did in Belgium. I will try to learn a little Dutch, which is almost exactly like Flemish, quite a bit like German, and somewhat like English. I will rent a bike. I will look at paintings of the Dutch masters.

I will not be visiting Anne Frank's attic. I will not be smoking pot. I will not be trying out or even ogling any ladies of the evening. I am not expecting to bring home any clogs. Or windmills.

It may seem strange that I am going here, but if you look at the patterns of my foreign travel, it fits right in. (I've also visited Belgium--with side trips into France and Germany, Switzerland--with a side trip into France, England--all London all the time, and now The Netherlands--bordering on Belgium, Germany, and the English channel.)

Last weekend, Robin and I went to Denver to celebrate his friend T's graduation.

Even though it's summer I wimped out and wore jeans and brought a hoodie because people like to really overdo the air conditioning, like in airports and airplanes. I had already had a pair of long pants packed, but just left them in the suitcase; there was plenty of room. I knew we were going hiking right after we got in, and I'd just have to find a place to change into shorts.

When we arrived in Denver, it was 38 degrees. And the really sad thing is that none of the eleven guests thought to actually look up the weather, so T lent us all an extra layer. Watching us was like watching her closet walking around.

On the way to the mountains we actually drove through snow.

Favorite childhood driving story - M said that when he was a kid, his mom explained that they were about to go under this lake she pointed to. Sure enough, they get to a tunnel and he knows just what's going on. But he wonders why no one on the bus is closing their windows. And that's how he learned that if you driver under the lake fast enough, you don't have to close the windows.

Other fun driving conversations:
R - "Runaway Truck Ramp? What is it, six million water balloons?"
T - "Yep. That's where rivers come from."

[Time to switch lanes]
R - "I'd look for a white car to cut off."
T - "But we're the white car to cut off."
S - "You've cut yourself off."

T - "I can't move back to Texas. No magpies."
M - "But you'll get mockingbirds back."
R - "And grackles."

When we got there, we walked through rain and hail. Tiny, cute hail. We actually liked the hail better than the rain because it would just bounce off of us instead of getting absorbed.

I tasted my first (and second) pierogi. Yum.

We split into groups to explore. My group went to the scenic overlook.

We came back to this.

The next day we went to a party where the host basically begged us not to bring any food or wine. After attending the party, we understood.

Here's what happened. When we arrived, a large round coffee table was completely covered in plates of hors d'oeuvres. As one got close to being only 1/4 full, it would be replaced with a new plate of something different. This went on the entire time that ice cream was being churned on the back porch. They did allow guests to crank the ice cream maker. Then we sat down to dinner were several dishes were passed around. Then they just couldn't help bringing out a couple of more dishes and a couple of more dishes and then homemade peach ice cream and seconds on ice cream and then just a couple of more desserts. Also, lots of alcohol. Many different kinds. Including homemade wine. And commercial alcohols no one had ever tasted, like a couple of lemony things--regular and creamy.

Many people decided that putting Parmesan rind in beans (along with the usual garlic, etc.) makes them taste fabulous. We did agree that mushrooms still warm from cooking in butter are excellent. And lettuces from the backyard are a good idea.

It was clear that these guys love throwing this kind of party. I forgot to pay attention to how much they actually got to interact with their guests. My impression is that there wasn't much interaction before the dinner but that they did get to spend the majority of the time during and after dinner hanging out with us.

Favorite party quote: "The risotto is a bit sticky because my wife's husband didn't finish it right."

About half the guests were vegetarian. And they did not have to go with their usual policy of "Don't ask, don't tell." The host just came right out and explained that the only meat was that on the two skewered dishes. There was no lard hiding in the beans or anything like that. Sweet!

Favorite vegetarian story: One time when these vegetarians were actually in the majority, they ganged up on the meat eaters asking them questions. "What made you decide to start eating meat?" "Do you eat meat for health reasons or moral reasons?" "Doesn't that get boring after a while?" "So, is your diet healthy? How do you get your fiber?" "Do you always have to cook your food? Can't you ever just get something out of the refrigerator and eat it?"

I didn't really expect a three-day weekend with a large group of people, most of whom I don't know at all and only one of whom I know well, to be that fun. Especially since we spent a lot of time driving around.

(I bet no one else even noticed this as we drove by.)

But all of the people were quite interesting and I had a really nice time.

Most of them had serious life goals that made me feel like a lazy good-for-nothing.
* two math lovers, starting graduate programs in math, making me want to check out Mathematics: The Loss of Certainty because of the awesome writing style. One of them is lazy, but this pushes her to discover brilliant ways to get things done - she'd rather figure out an efficient way to do it than just do it some known but mind-numbing way.
* one person in grad school studying how to resist attempts to persuade you. When she finishes her masters, she may get her PhD from a psychology department or a marketing department.
* one person studying birth rituals and how they change when birth gets medicalized.
* one person studying something involving Tibet
* one person writing a new Bible
* one person helping poor people, who will always be poor due to factors like disability and low IQ, teaching them basic survival skills
* one person volunteering in hospitals.

I also got to hear a little Tibetan spoken--it sounds completely unfamiliar to me.

I got to see someone knitting the continental style (yarn in the left hand) who takes her hand off the knitting needle to wrap the yarn just like I do using the English style. She learned to knit by just showing up at a yarn store and asking someone how. And she just started a couple of weeks ago and is already doing stuff I don't know how to do.

I didn't listen quite well enough when hearing about life in Madagascar.

And I end with a picture for the hostess. These white flowers were more spectacular in real life.

Our original plan was to eat at some famous pizza place for lunch on Saturday, some famous burger place for dinner, have leftover pizza or free hotel food for breakfast, go our separate ways for lunch, and then maybe a new-to-us fast food burger joint for dinner Sunday.

As I already said, the pizza place was closed for two weeks for summer break. The burger place has turned into another place which also wasn't opened. However, the fast food place still had at least one outlet and so we lunched at In-n-Out Burger.

That cheese looks much yummier than it really was. The best part of this burger was the fresh, crisp veggies on it. Unfortunately, I appreciate good cheese much better than I appreciate good veggies.

Then for dinner we had snacks from a new-to-us grocery store we'd both heard many good things about.

Our hotel had a microwave so we had some pretty good suppers. We also stocked up so we could bring things home. This required checking some luggage, but that all worked out. Here's what I ended up with.

(Those are dried blueberries, not frozen.) So far, all of that has been pretty good although the paneer tikka masala seemed a little sweet and the trail mix has too many dehydrated apples in it.

I have since found similar dark-chocolate-covered things at my local grocery store, but not dark chocolate covered dried cherries, which turn out to be quite tasty.

We've heard that Trader Joe's will never open a store in my town just because we're the home of Whole Foods. So sad.

The next day, Robin had Trader Joe's leftovers and I had hotel food. After hiking, packing, and checking out, I went over to my grandparents to visit with them and my aunt and uncle. My aunt and grandma made us a fabulous lunch of salad, spaghetti and meatballs, garlic bread, and pumpkin pie.

They didn't bring lunch to where Robin was as planned because the water was out. He had no car, so he couldn't get lunch, but then the owner of the driving school found him and drove him around, a much better treat than mere lunch.

Meanwhile, I had found a part of town called Historic something-or-other which I figured would have places to eat. I was right. I wasn't hungry for dinner, so we went to an Italian seafood place we found there.

And now I'm going to have some more dinner (pasta with the above pictured alfredo sauce).

My second day in Phoenix I decided to start my day with a little hike. There was a huge park right near our hotel. I had done a little research but decided to drive to the visitor's center before deciding which trail to take and to get a map.

The visitor's center was closed.

So I tried to find the trail on my own, but that didn't happen. I saw almost no other motorized vehicles but many, many bicyclists.

Even though the road looks like this.

Finally I decided to stop at the next place with some cars parked and see if I could find a trailhead. This plan totally worked, and I began to hike up Ranger Trail.

Just like with the trail I had originally wanted to take, I got a view of Phoenix.

I saw four people on the trail on my way up. First, a boy and his father. The boy was complaining about the heat as I passed, and I hoped he would make it to the top, but I never saw him again, and their car was gone when I returned.

Then I saw an old guy jogging down the mountain. Then I saw a middle aged person jogging down the trail. Can that be wise? Isn't that hard on your knees? These guys were wise enough to be finishing up before it got crazy hot.

Check out this interesting saguaro.

And this little beauty.

The trail I had picked out was described as a three-hour trip that led to a peak. Likewise, the trail I actually found took me 1.5 hours to climb and led me to a peak. Here's what was on the other side (from Phoenix).

I also saw this relatively dense collection of succulents at the top.

Most of the tiny life covering the rocks was black, but I did find yellow lichens.

On the way down the trail, I saw two more humans. One was sitting at the side of the trail in rare shade, panting. The other was jogging up the trail shirtless. As if running up the trail weren't enough, he first had to bicycle to the trail (either that, or the tired guy did)--I saw this further down the trail.

It only took me 30 minutes to get back down the trail.

Closer to the entrance of the park is this lovely building.

And while I'm showing you plants, here is an interesting one from near our hotel:

I really enjoyed starting my day with a nice hike. But then my buttocks were aching for a couple of days after that. (Then, after an hour of hustle dance lessons, doing only two steps over and over the whole time, my right calf was aching for a couple of days. Today, after jogging 30 minutes yesterday, my thighs are aching (though not as badly as the buttock and calf incidents--I had post-exercise peanut butter). Exercise is supposed to make me healthier and make me feel better, but limping every day for over a week isn't my favorite.)

Related news article of the day - Can Running Actually Help Your Knees? by Gretchen Reynolds. A study "followed middle-aged, longtime distance runners (not necessarily marathoners) for nearly 20 years, beginning in 1984, when most were in their 50s or 60s. At that time, 6.7 percent of the runners had creaky, mildly arthritic knees, while none of an age-matched control group did. After 20 years, however, the runners' knees were healthier; only 20 percent showed arthritic changes, versus 32 percent of the control group's knees. Barely 2 percent of the runners' knees were severely arthritic, while almost 10 percent of the control group's were."

A long-term study! With a control group! (My favorite.) These guys were running only 90 minutes a week on average, and there was no mention of them running down mountainsides. (Note that other sports are associated with increasing your odds for bad knee problems.)

In Phoenix, we got to tour Taliesin West, a complex designed by and built for Frank Lloyd Wright.

The walls were built with local stone. Just build a form, set in the stone so that the flat side faces out, and fill with concrete.

Here is a pathway.

Here is another view of that same pathway.

Here's a very interesting exterior wall.

Here is a view.

Rumor has it that one day Wright saw a light on Camelback Mountain (you can probably guess which one that is) and decided it was time to move. The neighbors were getting too close. But his wife said it's one thing to pull up stakes and start over in your seventies, and quite another in your eighties. And so she talked him into staying, but he closed up all the windows facing this direction. (I don't actually believe this story is true, but it's a fun story.)

Here's where that view is from.

Here's another nice little spot.

Here's a dining room. At that time, metal-framed chairs were rare.

Here is a gift.

Originally this is said to have been designed to spit water. But no self-respecting dragon would ever do such a thing. So it was retrofitted with gas so it could spew fire instead.

Here is an admired petroglyph moved to the site of Taliesin West.

The spiral-looking one was particularly admired. Our tour guide said he thought it looked like two hands clasping. He said this was the inspiration for the Taliesin West symbol, which you can see here.

Here is an entry way.

And the theatre inside, the last building here designed in Wright's lifetime.

And here is a sculpture.

Quote of the Day - One person read from the label on a bottle of fruit punch: "Contains 0% juice." Other person responds, "It's made of nothing but science."

Vacation agrees with me.

The biggest difference I noticed when I got back this time was the sleeping. On vacation, I stayed awake until I was yawning a lot. Then I went to bed. Then I slept as long as I wanted. When I woke up, I wasn't late for anything and I hadn't missed anything.

At home, I often don't go to bed when I'm sleepy because I feel I haven't had enough fun yet. I'll stay up way too late reading. Then get up with the alarm. Or not. And hope I get to work on time. And try to think at work with sleepy brain.

Denver had perfect walking weather the entire weekend (except for the parts when it was raining). It smelled good--like pine needles, not like exhaust or grackle poop. (Actually, Austin is smelling nice lately, too--like flowers). I saw worms. And ducks. And mushrooms. And really big houses, one of which was for sale and came with a $15,000 credit to build a garage if you wanted.

We visited the Denver Art Museum. First we checked out some modern art. One thing I remember from that section was a painting of three teenagers. It was larger than life and had pretty bright colors. It was three dudes wearing baggy clothes, cell phones, etc., but in an odd pose involving a wedding ring among other things. The story is that this guy would paint regular modern people in the pose of people in a famous painting and the kids got to pick the painting. These guys chose "The Marriage of [somebody or other from medieval times probably]" even though one of them was clearly going to end up posing as the wife.

We also checked out the Psychedelic Experience. The accompanying exhibit was mostly hundreds of posters for bands from the sixties. It was interesting to read that they were not designed to be read but to be interpreted. Unlike most ads, they didn't make it easy to find the information-you almost had to decode the poster, even the font, to get the scoop on what was happening, when, and where.

Then they had another room with the "experience" part. You could watch the TV show "Laugh-in" or make your own poster, for example. My favorite part was basically a documentary showing on the TV in a sixties-era hippie living room that you could sit in. (The coffee table was made of a door lying across two stacks of concrete bricks, for example.)

From that I learned that the summer when Haight-Ashbury was getting a lot of news about cool events, young people around the country got the idea that they could get away from their troubles by running away from home and going to Haight-Ashbury where someone would give them a place to sleep and they could hang out. It reminded me of things I'd read in history books about people running away to "the new land" or during the gold rush. Scary. And this is even though no one was trumping up lies to get their money.

By the following year, there were just too many people and there were too many drugs and it was no fun anymore and not safe.

That night we watched "The Girlfriend Experience." This was a good contrast to the Psychedelic Experience where people wanted to be true to themselves and not have to work. The movie was about people who did want to work even though it sometimes or often meant being untrue, at least to their clients.

It was a good movie for talking about afterwards because then you can help each other figure out what happened in what order. Once you figure out the order things happened, it's easier to see why they happened and thus what actually happened. Ideally you want to be awake and paying attention during the movie.

Unlike most movies, it is about both work life and personal life and how the two are related even when you do your best to keep them apart. And the work part really shows the dog-eat-dog aspect, especially for people who are self-employed, always hustling for more clients. And it's about what it might be like to be one of the dolls from "Dollhouse" if the dolls were doing things voluntarily using their own personalities.

We saw this movie in the Mayan theatre, which reminds me of the Paramount in that it's highly decorated, only this one is in the Mayan Revival style of architecture. Who knew there was such a thing? Definitely cool. Although it was filled with the "cloying stench" of popcorn. Actually, E had a much longer phrase for this aroma that I love, but I remember only those two words.

The next day we visited the Denver Botanic Garden and their totally awesome Jurassic Gardens Exhibit. What that means is that nestled between the plants like garden gnomes or pink flamingos they have dinosaurs. It's like an Easter egg hunt only better because (most of) the eggs had hatched and because when someone else finds a dinosaur, that makes it more likely that you'll find it, too rather than that you won't find it. We met E's grampa there: the edmontosuarus.

We did also look at some plants. T noticed that the new bright green leaves on evergreens feel all rubbery like a koosh ball. This was true of all the different pine species we tried.

Later we saw "Monsters versus Aliens" in 3-D. I barely noticed the 3-D, but I still recommend the movie. It has plot problems but is fun.

Still later we saw "Logan's Run" which R had never seen and which I hadn't seen since it came out. I had forgotten pretty much everything except that the women wore short skirts. The plot was pleasingly more complex than I remembered. However, prepare yourself for huge plot problems, especially the idea that the ending is happy.

We also ate out at a bunch of interesting restaurants. Blue Sky Cafe and Yoga has a sky painted on the ceiling over a wooden floor. Breakfast and lunch are served in the cafe, then the place turns into a yoga studio in the evening. I couldn't resist the hot chocolate onto which they added not only whipped cream but also chocolate syrup and cocoa powder.

We also saw for ourselves Vita versus Lola. Vita is the elegant, affordable, delicious, totally empty restaurant we went to. Lala next door was the totally crowded slightly more expensive Mexican food place next door. We never could figure out why Lala was so much more popular than Vita. We felt that we had made the obvious best choice.

I also had yummy Tex Mex in a café, shockingly good ravioli in a bakery, egg salad on extremely thick but delicious bread in another bakery, noodles at T's favorite Vietnamese place, and other things I'm forgetting now.

We also saw a multi-use area sort of like our old airport and the Triangle and the Domain, only it had evil parking meters that would take your money even if parking was supposed to be free because it's Sunday. (At least we assume it took T's money-she paid with a credit card.) They had a big tourist-destination-type Whole Foods like the one we have on 6th street.

It was great having T drive us around and almost magically know where things were all over town. If one plan got knocked down, she would know something cool to do in a more convenient location.

On the plane home we had a plan to deal with the annoying TV screens on the backs of the airplane seats, which E and T taught us with their eyes rolling: change the contrast to nothing. Unfortunately this didn't work. They said it might not work at first, but would work once the plane was up. It didn't work then either. Or after the seatbelt light went off either. The contrast bar would claim it was reducing the contrast, but wouldn't actually do it. I had one giant sticky note sheet I had been using to keep track of characters that I used to cover up my screen because it was so annoying. Then I realized that R's screen might be broken and tried the controls for mine, which worked, so I let Robin block his screen with the paper for the rest of the flight. FYI, Frontier has more leg room than any other airline I've been on in years except Midwest (which I like even better because they also have chocolate chip cookies). It's the same amount of room as planes used to have.

**

It's weird remembering that my audience includes at least one of the hosts (no, it did not take me this long to think of nice things to say--I just was hoping to get some pictures but then decided to write something anyway). It includes a host's best friend. It includes the people whose recital party we accidentally scheduled this trip during. And whose next party I think we will be able to make it to unless our flight home from our next trip is very late. It includes other people who went to that recital or who stayed away from the recital. And it includes some people who don't know any of the people I have mentioned so far.

The airline I'm using to get to Denver this weekend allows one carry-on and one personal item.

"Your carry-on bag's dimensions can't exceed a total of 49 linear inches (9.5" height + 15.5" width + 24" length)." Mine is 9" x 14.5" x 22". Ha!

In the olden days, I brought a knapsack as my "personal item." These days just my purse counts or just my camera or just a computer bag or just a "reasonable amount of reading material," all of which I used to fit into my backpack.

It costs $15 to check a bag.

Fortunately, it's only a four-day trip. Because I'm feeling awfully stubborn.

Quote of the Day - Today's quote comes from today's Alamo Drafthouse newsletter.

THINGS I LEARNED AT LAST WEEKS PIRATE PARTY:
A short essay by Caitlin Stevens

I know it totally sucks to hear about fun things you missed a week after they happen, but there are some things that you just HAVE to share with the rest of the world. I successfully followed my golden rule of "drink slowly" and my other rule of "even though those rum drinks are OH SO DELICIOUS, stick with the Tecate" so I remember all the shenanigans that took place. First, it is super fun to yell and wave plastic swords and cutlasses at the people trying to peacefully watch the bats on the S. Congress bridge. Second, when you are actually on a boat, you do not get tired of singing "I'M ON A BOAT! I'M ON A BOAT!" especially when that song is remixed by Car Stereo (Wars). Third, it is wonderfully empowering to push Creative Director Henri Mazza off the upper deck of said boat in a mutiny. And finally, above all things, I learned to never, ever, under any circumstance, leap from the pedestrian bridge onto a boat NO MATTER HOW AWESOME IT LOOKS! Yes, there was someone who attempted that, and now he has broken legs and probably a hatred for pirates.

Robin took me to the Overholser Mansion in Oklahoma City, a Victorian style mansion built after Victorian houses had gone out of style. His friends made fun of him. Also they wondered why he built his house out in the middle of nowhere. Turns out that meant there was plenty of room for other rich people to build their houses nearby.

Here is the family entry way. (That figure is a little racy for company, we're thinking.)

This is from the guest entry.

They hired a guy to do some stenciling. I've heard that stenciling is the poor man's wallpaper. Not this stenciling. If I'm remembering correctly, it took three years for the person they hired to do the entire house. I think he earned his money, too.

No need for a stairwell to be boring.

Can't quite decide how to decorate? You can have it all. You can have drapes, sheers, and stained glass in the windows. You can have moldings and painted frames. You can have stenciling and a chandelier. Still looking a little empty? Just add an imported rug, large solid furniture, and a table runner. And wall lamps.

This room is over-the-top, too, but still I want to go in there and write some letters or something at that table.

This is probably my favorite room, though. Just a little pantry between the kitchen and dining room.

The other side of the pantry has the portable food warmer.

People make fun of Robin for his wagon-wheel table. This guy has a wagon-wheel ceiling over the table. Maybe no one will notice.

Of course they still had the modern conveniences.

Even a new stove. Of course sometimes the modern versions aren't as good as the versions being replaced. In this case the cook would not allow them to get rid of the old stove, or else she said she would leave.

Oklahoma City has a riverwalk. Unlike the one in San Antonio, it is completely man-made. Like the one in San Antonio, it is located in what used to be a run-down part of town, in this case, the factory area where all the buildings were made of red brick. Now this area is called Bricktown. The canal is drained and cleaned every few years (compared to every year for the San Antonio Riverwalk).

We took a cruise along this one-mile-long canal.

The most shocking thing I learned is that in 1993, the mayor imposed a 1-cent sales tax for five years specifically for the purpose of carrying out several building projects. Then after the five years were up, they actually stopped collecting the tax and did the projects. The projects included building the canal, a convention center, and a ball park, among other things.

Can you believe that? Saving up ahead of time? In my town, we call this sort of thing "bond issues." And then stopping collecting the tax? And still having all the money? In my town, the mayor would be crying about inflation and needing more money. And then it actually got done? In a reasonable amount of time? And people like it? And the stuff actually works (for example, the canal was full of water, the ball park was voted best minor league facility by someone).

It's sad that I feel this way.

The canal opened in 1993. They dug out where a street used to be to make it.

My favorite of the river guide's suggestions was about swimming. There's a hotel with a pool on the canal that charges $240 a night, which is a lot of money in Oklahoma City. And there is a $250 fine for swimming in the canal. So, if you want to go swimming, you can save $10 by staying at the hotel.

My favorite of the guide's puns is about the painted buffalo that popped up all over town for their centennial celebration. Their bison-tennial celebration.

Besides buffalo, there are a lot of nice murals around town.

And I couldn't quite stop staring at this downtown building.

Sonic headquarters is located on the canal.

My favorite canal site was the land run statues. Oklahoma City was one of the starting points where people were offered free land if they would just come and claim it. The term "Sooners" originally referred to the people who cheated by coming out early.

At the start of the local land run, there were 7 residents in the area. At the end of the day, there were 10,000. Oklahoma City had become the sixtieth-largest American city in a single day. Our guide said, "Maybe Rome wasn't built in a day, but Oklahoma sure was." (Now there are 1.3 million residents.)

Here's another work of art, commemorating the black man's struggle with the white world. Apparently there were lots of sit-ins in Oklahoma City during the civil rights era.

We ate at Chilinos, the only place to eat when the canal was first opened. (Hey, it was still in business. That has to be a good sign, right?) The best things there were the tortillas. And they knew it, too. Not only do they bring out chips and salsa to start with, they also bring out flour tortillas and queso. (The queso was more like a thick cheese soup than what I'm used to, but the tortillas were awesome.) Their enchiladas (made with corn tortillas) were quite good, too, which is why I'm making a blanket statement about the tortillas. So, if you're ever in Bricktown, I recommend getting visiting Chilinos and ordering something involving tortillas.

Tulsa has the third most art deco buildings of any city in the US (beaten by New York and Miami), so we went on a walking tour. The ones we saw were mostly skyscrapers, which I found to be not as much fun as the little two- and three-story hotels we saw in Miami.

For example, here's the Oklahoma Natural Gas Company Building (Noble) (1928) - a zig-zag building "constructed of reinforced concrete, enclosed with buff tapestry brick and Indiana limestone," according to my walking tour description. Zig-zag is the earliest, most ornamented style of art deco, the style popular in the 1920s.

Here's the Public Service Company of Oklahoma (TransOK) Building (1928) constructed as a zig-zag art deco style building; Robin prefers the addition on the right.

If you know what a Bell building looks like, you can recognize this one, even if the tower is camouflaged. Here's the Southwestern Bell Main Dial Building (1924), a zig-zag art deco building.

There are other styles of frou-frou, too. This is my favorite:

If you prefer the classical style, you might like this "MVNICIPAL BVILDING."

My favorite thing was probably the doorway on the gothic revival Trinity Episcopal Church.

This "Auto Hotel" also amused me. (Yes, I do think it's a parking garage.)

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Note of the Living Deb

Entries tagged with travel

Which one is more fun?

Winter Break 2014

Vacation to Mirando City

Amsterdam, Day 6

Amsterdam, Day 5 - Rembrandt and Canal Tour

Amsterdam, Day 4

Amsterdam, Day 3

Amsterdam, Bike Tour

Amsterdam, 12/5 - 12/6/10

Ready for Trip

Going to the Netherlands

Denver Trip

Food in Phoenix

South Mountain

Taliesin West

Trip to Denver

Carry-On Rules

Overholser Mansion

Bricktown Canal

Skyscrapers: Art Deco