Tuesday, July 7, 2026

Carrying Around a Library of Comics

 Cass brought his copy of Tankers, a comic:


It's bonkers, and fun, and silly, and when Cass said he wanted to show "that girl" the gory pictures, and motioned to Irina, a cute young Serbian girl who had just finished her talk on Pynchon and Lewis Carroll/White Rabbits, I smiled and chuckled and said, "Cool, man. I'll go introduce you."

Anyway, on this trip, we ended up picking up various graphic novels, and they are all pretty cool.

The first, from Brussels:


This Tin-Tin story is a classic English version. First, let me say: I grew up watching Tin-Tin on HBO and enjoyed it, and have read a few different English editions as well. This piece had very little Tin-Tin. I mean, he's in it, and he's running the show, but it's mostly Captain Haddock yelling and screaming at people about the lack of whiskey, and Prof. Calculus. It's Calculus's first appearance, and he's one of the more annoying characters I have encountered un sequential art. He's mostly deaf and does nothing about it, besides mis-hearing everyone.

The next graphic novel we got was from the Anne Frank house.


I also bought our own copy of Anne Frank's diary. That girl could seriously write.

The next graphic novel was a rendition of the last few years of one of our favorite painters:


The lady at the Van Gogh museum  asked if this book was for me. "It's eh...it's not for kids..."

I checked it out. It may be a bit mature, but it isn't too far gone.

Epic Places to Stay

Corrie found some incredible places for us to stay. The AirBnB in Dortmund was a nice slice of home, and it was easy for us to slide in there and feel like we were doing a home-away-from-home thing. If we were to stay longer, we would have had to better figure out the cooking dinner part, but as it was, it was very nice.

Stairs, two bedrooms, a quiet street down from a park, and close to both a university-bound bus and the town center-bound subway.

Here's a shot Corrie took of us before we took the subway into to town to see the show at Domicil:

Zoom in pretty far

There we are!

The hotel in Aachen wasn't super-spectacular, but it was nice enough, had a fancy buffet breakfast so the kids could choose their own food, and was close to everything we wanted to do. It was also the site for a very pleasant evening of drinking beer and watching Germany play a World Cup game, and the resulting honking, even if my video in the earlier post never worked.

The hotel in Brussels was close to a tram stop that itself was close to the stuff we wanted to do there. It, the B and B Hotel Brussels, was chosen because of the cool stuff for kids. The swings in the lobby, a popcorn machine, the bunk beds carved into the wall, and another breakfast buffet. You're eating how many croissants?

All of those places were nice. But the AirBnB in Antwerp was freaking epic. Right on the square in an ancient building, with a view that I couldn't get enough of. I mean, I tried to be chill, but...

4 pm

10 pm

11 pm

8:30 am

10 am

It was like staying right on top of Times Square, if Times Square wasn't all about consumerism, full of automobiles, and in fact five-hundred years old.

I even found myself taking pictures of the room from the ground level, the four windows above the Rooden Hoed, at all hours of the day:





So...I may have had a few drinks in between some of these pics, but it was magical.


And then the Dikker and Thijs in Amsterdam. It sat on the corner of the main roads, the Leidsestraat, and the main canal, the Prinsengracht. That's it there, centered:


But our room was the top! The corner window and the two on both sides. It was super cool:


It was even above the tower on the left. 


See? And check 


The room key was made of balsa, and after that night where it rained heavily and my clothes got ratehr soaked, it warped:


It went back to normal by the end, which is pretty cool.

The room was featured in the screens on the elevator:


Well, not really...actually, that's the room below us:


This was the best, most epic hotel I've yet to stay in. And I know the kids don't appreciate it. The AirBnB in Antwerp? Holy hell, they may never understand that either.

Corrie killed it on this trip.

The Multi-Day Journey Home

Traveling long distances too a foreign destination, while often strenuous, if tempered by excitement, and this positive energy permeates one's entire outlook and disposition.

Returning, on the other hand, is after you've been away from home for however long, the stress accentuated if you have kids. For us, this is where the trip went super sideways.

We had an overnight layover in Toronto, and had plans to stay is a hotel in the middle of the city, walk about for a while and find food, and settle in for an easy night sleep and return to the airport the next day.

So, obviously that happened, right?

Firstly, we had to say goodbye to our epic hotel, the Dikker and Thijs, in Amsterdam:


Return the bikes, and see the public urinal that I remember being in mre places backj on '05:


But, it turned out that the Amsterdam airport sucked to get to, sucked to get through, had terrible signage in the tram stations, shuttle train (the sprinter) stations, the customs area, and inside the international terminal. After chatting up a worker, me trying my best to hide my anger and frustration, he led us to a different line, and we made it through quickly. But our terminal, once we realized where it was located, despite the terrible signs, was at least a half-mile away, and we had to run to make it.

Like a terrible movie.

We made the flight, and headed towards North America.

Hours later, as we approached Toronto, I noticed the fliught icon of the plane, as it appeared on the video screen if you didn't want to watch anything had been settled on 25 minutes for nearly an hour. Twenty more minutes and the trubulence started to get bad, and the pilot came on the intercom. He informed us that yes, we were circling, that briefly Toronto's airport had been closed due to the turbulence-inducing thunderstorms, and that we may be rerouted for Niagra Falls. This elicited a groan, in between nervous oohs and aahs as the cabin lurched in different directions. "We, aaahhh, have, probably enough fuel for that," the pilot said.

Great. 

The bouncing of the cabin in the turbulence for over half an hour led to half of the kids on the flight barfing into their barf bags. Our kids were okay, but it was touch and go with Camille for a few minutes.

When we were finally cleared to land in Toronto, we did, but then got stuck on the tarmac for a while, and then it was announced that there had been a medical emergency on the plane and we'd have to wait for the paramedics to arrive and get the person off first.

Another groan, but at least we had plans. Of course after another half-hour of waiting, no paramedics arrived, and the pilot forced them to let all of us off. At least we hadn't missed our flight---it was the next day. We had to gather our bags since...in Canada apparently, you have to get your bags and put them through customs again.

So...find a cab. Get to the hotel. Drop off the stuff in the room and eat in the hotel restaurant. It was 9:30 local Toronto time when we finally got food, the US was playing Bosnia on every television and a loud contingent of Croatian fans were singing as they prepped for the next day's match against Portugal in Toronto. 9:30 is tough for food, but it was 3:30 am for the kids.

The high-rise density surpasses DTLA

The CN Tower and the Roger's Center

Once the kids got to bed and we had a beer, we went up to bed, mercifully ending a long-ass day.


The next day, as we flew into the sun some more, we passed over part of the Grand Canyon, and eventually made it home after a long taxi ride. Gotta love the 405.


Picasso was very glad to see us, and finally let up on his clinginess.


I tried to get to these posts before too long, as it happened with Southeast Asia back in 2014, or Rome in 2019, things quickly recede to dream status in our memories, and typing these up has allowed me, or forced me, to reflect on them as if I were discussing them with friends or family.

I have a few more posts to go, mostly asides like epic places to stay, beer discussions, movies on the plane, and the field trip in Dortmund that I didn't have the camera for. Anyway, the bulk of the pictures and time overseas is up, in narrative form, and all that's left is to fill in the blanks that only I can see.

Amsterdam: Sounded Like America

Day 1: Arrival

We traveled to Amsterdam back in 2005, young American backpackers there to have a good time. And we did.

This time we wanted to show the kids one of the world's "cool" cities, and we did. But we weren't alone in this desire. I can say American English was more present in the ambient noise in Amsterdam than anywhere in this trip, including Toronto's airport, or hanging in the city proper on our overnight layover.

So many Americans on this trip. And way more than I remember there being here twenty-one years ago.

But it's a classic European city, and we were excited to show it to our kids.


The canals are very iconic, and there are so many pictures on my phone that have canals:


The street-vistas are also pretty iconic:


Our hotel was called the Dikker and Thijs (in Dutch the "ij" is it's own sound, the 'hard I'), which was the fancoest hotel we stayed in on this trip, and probably the fanciest hotel Corrie and I have visited since the Biltmore in DTLA in the early summer of 2003.

(I have pictures coming.)

The first day, before we went to find a place to eat, we wandered, and found a little park to let the kids go crazy in:


A family showed up with two daughters, the oldest of whom was probably 4. Both daughters were in strollers, and both of them were strapped in. I don't remember when we stopped tying the kids in, but it was early.

Anyway, they took one wary look at our kids swashbuckling style of play, rough and tumble and all, and hovered over their little girls. Corrie called our kids over and in a hoarse whisper shout, informed them: "If you crowd, or bother in any way, those little girls, we will leave and walk for an entire hour before getting dinner." Our kids, eyes wide, hungry and tired, nodded their understanding.

Amsterdam: Canals and Bikes

Golden Hour Wandering


Right down the street from our place was the Cafe Pieper. Corrie and I tried to get a beer out on their outdoor veranda, as the heatwave had finally broken.


We were told that they were not letting anyone sit because of the coming rainstorm.

We did head inside to sit, but it was at least 90 degrees inside. I mean, check our how old the place is:

1665!

That night, before the deluge arrived, we ended up around the corner at a Mikkeller bar, technically Mikkeller at Morebeer:


This was a thing for our boy Ryan Talyat. He told us about Mikkeller back when he would make the beer trips from SLO to SD and our own environs. Mikkeller was a guest brewer/traveling brewer, and his collabs were hot items a dozen years ago.

And here was a bar in Amsterdam that had ten of his beers on tap. I had a sour here that I wanted to talk about, but'll add it in an anecdote later.

This bar was very nice, an gave us an umbrella to use on our trip back to the hotel. By that time it was pouring rain, dumping really, and it was still warm. We tried to refuse, but the bartender said that the umbrella had been left months ago, and we were welcome to it. We thanked him, and said we'd bring it back before we left for the States. And since it didn't rain again, it was easy to bring it right back on our last night.

Day 2: Rijks Museum and Canal Tour

The first proper day we thought about checking out both the Rijks (sounds like 'Reeks') Museum and the Van Gogh, since they're right down in the Museumplatz. It would be a long-ass day, yes, but the next day was thew Anne Frank house, and we figured that we could ride our rented bikes around, find the enormous city park, and generally relax before the heaviness.

But the Van Gogh Museum was sold out, and since we didn't make reservations, we were shut out for the day. We got spots for an upcoming day. But...

The Rijks!


So, Corrie and I had already been to both the Rijks and the Van Gogh, but we like taking the kids to these classic museums.


Right inside the door, in one of the permanent exhibits, is a classic painting of Varanasi: 


The original Nightwatch, by Rembrandt, was tgere, but there were lifesize recreations in two separate spots so people the could snap pictures (the original was thirty feet behind machine-gun proof glass).


I love the angry swan!


This painting I liked because it shows a moment in time that isn't talked about often in Dutch history classes. The Spanish, when they were in charge before the events of 1588 (when their hegemonic power over swaths of Europe started to wane), forbid the Protestant Dutch to worship in public. When the Dutch finally shook off the yoke of Spanish rule, they stormed many Catholic cathedrals and hacked up, or pulled down, or otherwise destroyed, many icons of Catholic identity. Thsi painting depicts just that.


Of course, the Dutch returned the favor, and disallowed the Catholics to practice their religion in public. Religion can make people feel a little oppressive...?

After the Rijks, and lunch, and playtime at a large playground, we went and did a canal tour. It was 90 minutes instead of 60, and drinks were included for us, eh, thirsty folks.


It was a great time where we got a little history of Amsterdam from our very engaging captain, Capt Joe.


Some of the buildings of Amsterdam, due to differential settling and improper glueing of them to their neighbors, are starting to buckle and fall over. Sometimes it looks obvious and scary.


Joe took us around to the Gentlemen's Canal (the Herrengracht), which we'd never been to before. We stayed on the Prinsengracht (Prince's Canal), which has all of the super tight and small places, barely 7m across. They were used as warehouses for the merchants back in the 1600 and 1700s. The Gentleman's Canal is where thsoe rich merchants built their enormous canal-side palaces:


At one spot I tried to take the iconic "Seven Bridges" shot, but I'm still not sure how it turned out:


Captain Joe loved Cass, kept an ongoing conversation going with him for most of the time, and even let his steer again, long after the acceptable "let the kids steer" time was over. And, right into the sun, at that:


Amsterdam, American tourists notwithstanding, can be a magical place, too.


Day 3: Parks and the Anne Frank House

One things Captain Joe had mentioned the day before was that Amsterdam was a city of bikes. One million people and four million bikes. He said there was a joke about how the canals are only three meters deep: one meter of water, one meter of mud, and one meter of bicycle.

On this morning, as we prepared to go on a long bike ride before seeing the Anne Frank house, we could see the dredger and the floating trashcan, pulling up bikes with their muddy claw:


A little closer, along the canal-side road:


We found a large playground next to a restaurant, that had some epic climbing deals:



We rode around and around, finding different spots in this enormous park. 


One spot had a large-diameter pool that was less than a foot deep, for local parents with little kids, and some more playground and swing equipment, and tons of local moms.

After a time there, and rehydrating, it was off to the Anne Frank house. Since you can't take pictures inside, a few establishing shots are important. This cathedral is right next to the museum's entrance:


It bears the standard Amsterdam city "logo", the three X's, one each for three historical nuisances: fire, flood, and plague:


The Anne Frank house was sobering and intense, trying to imagine having to keep quiet during the day because workers at the warehouse might hear you; how each day the forced Jewish schools would have less and less students, and nobody knew if they had gone into hidiong, had fled entirely, or been taken away to work camps.

That was one thing I thought was just, staggering: Dutch people in Amsterdam woke up one morning with their neighbor, Germany, and their Nazi army rolling through their streets with tanks and trucks full of machine-gun toting soldiers. Soon enough this occupying force were putting up proclamations detailing new laws for Jewish people, how they all had to go to the same schools, how they had to shop at certain times only, how they couldn't ever hang out with their non-Jewish friends anymore, and, after a short time, about how they needed to report to the train-station when their car was pulled. A fancy work camp trip awaited.

Since we have some folks in hiding right now, in California and Minnesota at the least, we felt it was necessary to not lose collective memory of how terrible all this is: a fascist bully government causing its citizens and/or residents to cower in fear and be compelled to keep hidden. 

Day 4: De Dam and the Van Gogh Museum

We were finally getting to the Van Gogh museum, but first had to take the kids to the Dam, the central square where they first dammed up the Amstel river, giving the city its name, the dam on the Amstel, eh, Amsterdam.

I always loved how it blocked the older church

Not quite an obelisk


Before our time at Van Gogh was scheduled, Corrie wantef to go seethe  Oude Kerk, Captain Joe's favorite building in Amsterdam. It was a quick ride away from the dam, and we got to see some of the oldest buildings still being used in the city:


And there it was...


It dates back to the Spanish Catholic era, and had wild paintings on its ceiling were painted over later, only to be discovered and returned to the light of day. Inside, the floor is a giant necropolis, as the site was originally a burial ground. 

The gravestones date from all over, and when I saw the following one, clearly readable as Saskia and 1642, I took a picture:


It turned out this was the most famous burial in the Oude Kerk, Saskia, Rembrandt's second wife.

From the Oude Kerk we had to book it to the Van Gogh Museum. Corrie and I had been there before, back in 2005, but both our kids love Vincent's work, so we were excited to let them loose inside.

It was...crowded. I'm only sharing a few pictures heer, because we've all seen them before, if not in books or posters, then through cultural osmosis. The first was the famous self portrait with the felt hat:


Then the sunflowers, painted with three shades yellow and still shining like it's crafted out of gold:


And this last one, this one I was sure would be here and wanted to see. This was the last painting Vincent worked on, the gnarled roots expressing his emotional state at the time. This was his last painting, he didn't finish, instead shooting himself in the chest and dying a few days later:


Amsterdam and bikes! Here's Camille on the 'kids' bike they had for her:


When we got back on our last full day and night in Amsterdam, we got a huge double rainbow:


That night Corrie and I left the Dikker and Thijs one last time and, went back to the Mikkeller, and enjoyed our last night:


So many more tourists than we remember, but the city is still captivating. Cass said he wanted to move there. Maybe the cute concierge may have had something to do with it ("She studies psychology...is that like archeology? Why are you laughing?"). 

Both kids loved the ability to bike around, and the weather was a little more accommodating. It was a great time.