Although I was starting to get used to the time zone difference (6 hours), it was still difficult dragging my butt out of bed. We had another 8am bus to catch on the morning of Tuesday, July 8, 2008. Whereas we had traveled to the northern part of Holland the day before, this bus would be taking us to the southern part of Holland. I got ready, dropped Jackie a note on the internet, and then enjoyed another great breakfast buffet – which was the exactly same everyday, but just perfect the way it was.
As we boarded the bus, the fact that it was pouring down rain didn’t escape anyone. I think we all were disappointed at the wet and windy weather, and I brought along my new sweatshirt to keep warm. Again, we had absolutely no idea where the bus would be taking us on this day. So after about 90 minutes on the bus, our first stop was a complete and total surprise. In fact as we exited the bus, no one in my party had any idea where we were. All we knew is that we were getting herded off the bus in the cold and the rain.
The Duffs take a nap after breakfast, ala Grady Sutton
Turns out we were in Delfshaven. Some of the Sons were standing around gaping at a church. As I examined the sign closely, I learned exactly where we were. The Church had been dubbed the Pelgrimskerk, or Pilgrim Father’s Church. It was here that a group of English religious dissenters who had fled to the Netherlands had worshipped the night before embarking for England on the Speedwell, where they docked and reboarded the Mayflower for the new land of America in 1620.
De Pelgrimskerk
Dodging the raindrops to get a picture at the church
The area was filled with shops, museums, and restaurants, but unfortunately no one could really enjoy any of it because we had to crowd into an alley under cover to get out of the rain. We would have had an hour to walk around here, but the convention organizers had mercy on us and we reboarded the bus after less than thirty minutes.
We were quickly dropped off in nearby Rotterdam where we boarded the the riverboat Nehalennia for a cruise down the river Maas. I was happy to relax on the boat, chatting with friends, and sipping hot chocolate as the rains of Holland fell upon us. But unfortunately we had to dock eventually.
Happier now with hot chocolate
Between cloudbursts on the Maas river out of Rotterdam
Again, we didn’t know where we were until we exited the boat in the pouring rain, but it turns out we were in the Dutch tourist village of Kinderdjik, where nineteen windmills dating from the 1500’s – and still in working condition – are used to drain water from the lower basins of the area, channeling it to the river.
I decided at this point to break down and buy a yellow umbrella. It didn’t necessarily have to be yellow, but that’s what it was. I ventured out of the gift shop / coffeeshop in order to get a couple of pictures with the windmills (as seen in the top photo), but soon found my way back into the shop to sit and chat and wait for our departure. We then got back on the boat and had the ‘pie incident’.
Ellen Sorkin, me, Peter van Rooij, Sjaak Bolder, Bill Leavy, Jamie McKenna as we struggle stay out of the rain and see some freakin’ windmills
The other Stan Laurel impersonator has nothing on me
The great pie incident began when convention organizers announced that as an apology for the weather, everyone would be entitled to have a free piece of pie in addition to the cheese sandwiches and ham sandwiches that they had provided. Unfortunately no waiter came around to get our order of pie. However, on the other side of the boat, there was an entire plate of pie at the bar, so I went to get some and was told that it was only for that side of the boat and we were on the other side of the boat. So I went back to our side of the boat and awaited further pie instructions.
By this point, I didn’t even want the pie. I just wanted the pie because they said we were going to get pie. Eventually I was steaming mad, so I went to the other side of the boat and stole two pieces of apple pie from the bar and came back and gave one to Jimmy. Then they told us that we couldn’t have ice cream, which made me even grumpier. Turns out the pie wasn’t even that good. Jimmy went and bought an ice cream, but I just decided to go on a temporary ice cream strike.
Lori, Kris, Marcia, Dee, Lee, Big Jimmy, and the best side of Bob Duncan enjoy lunch on the boat
Sharing a pre-pie moment with Little Bob on the boat back to Rotterdam
Convention host Bram Reijnhoudt and Clive Mitchell take a time-out on the boat
After an hour on the returning boat trip, we reboarded the bus. The rain had stopped as we traveled from Rotterdam to Delft. We started out at the Koninklijke Porceleyne Fles (translated as royal porcelain bottle, but typically known as the Royal Delft Factory). This was the last of 32 manufacturers of Delftware (for men like me who have no idea what this means, it is some fancy blue and white porcelain) and has survived since it was established in 1653.
The factory also served as somewhat of a Delftware museum, so we were able to see a display of some of the larger and more interesting pieces – in addition to watching workers transform this porcelain into other porcelain right before our eyes. The most humorous aspect of the tour was in the gift shop, where we saw items like porcelain chopsticks and thimbles on sale for over 100 euros.
With a giant Delftware tile collage
One of my famous ‘not really touching but looking like I’m about to do some serious damage’ poses
Having a cow in Delft
We then went on a guided tour of the city of Delft where we started out at the Nieuwe Kerk (New Church), which included the burial vault of the Dutch Royal Family, including the famous William of Orange (also known as William the Silent) assassinated founder of the state of the Netherlands. And by the way, the name New Church doesn’t carry a lot of meaning since it was actually completed in 1496. Unfortunately we struggled to hear a word of our female tour guide whose voice was only slightly louder than a piece of cotton touching a piece of felt, so we eventually moved onto another tour guide and then broke off completely from any tour group. Naturally Marcia and I posed Little Bob with the the grave monument of William of Orange.
Old guy with the New Church
Over the entrance to the Dutch royal family’s burial vault. I would have broken into it but the cover stone weighs more than 11,000 pounds
With the memorial grave of William of Orange
From the New Church, we walked over to the Oude Kere (or, you guessed it, the Old Church). This one was built in 1246, over two hundred years before its adolescent counterpart. Being much older, it didn’t seem nearly as fancy and majestic, but it was still pretty amazing to be in a building that was originally founded about midway between me and Christ.
On the route from the New Church to the Old Church was the Stadhuis, the Delft City Hall built in 1618
Young guy at the Old Church
Many sources say that famous painter Johannes Vermeer is buried in the church (along with approximately 400 others), although the church now only claimes to house his epitafen. Another sign indicates that the stone marks the site where ‘the grave once stood.’ A guide in the church stated that many of the bodies had been removed. So who knows?
The Vermeer stone in question
By this time it was around 6pm and we were ready to sit down to dinner. It didn’t take everyone too long to agree on a restaurant called ‘t Raedthuys. There’s no way I can pronounce that word, but our gorgeous waitress seemed to have little problem. I had chicken noodle soup and roast beef covered with fried egg.
At the table next to us, Lee and Dee MacBeath were celebrating their wedding anniversary with matching sundaes. The Duffs were at our table and one of the highlights of dinner was when John couldn’t get the attention of our waitress and he ‘pretended’ to whistle for her, inserting his fingers in his mouth and blowing. The only problem was, a tremendously loud whistle really did come out, so the waitress – along with everyone around us – turned and stared at a red-faced John.
Janet, me, Jimmy, Jimmy, Kris, and John enjoy dinner in Delft
Cheers!
The relative size of a Pepsi in Europe
The MacBeaths celebrate a special day
After a nice, typically long European dinner, we walked around a bit as we headed back to the bus which was to depart at 9pm. On the way back, I was forced to use a pay toilet for my one and only time in Europe. However, this is not to say that I actually paid. I jumped the turnstyle to get into it. Big Jimmy would have done the same thing, but he nearly got stuck trying to squeeze though it, so he dutifully plopped in his fifty cents.
We arrived back at the hotel around 9:30, at which time I helped Jimmy write his internet coverage of the pre-convention activities and sent out some emails. We wouldn’t be forced to get up quite so early the next day, because it was basically a day on our own, and the first one in which we would actually venture into Amsterdam.
It wasn’t ala Grady Sutton with the Duffs, it is more like Ma & Pa Kettle! Janet is still able to hold on to her seat though!
I see what they started as Clive & Bram join in on the fun!
Bob
August 25th, 2008