Day Zero

The kids finished school on the 11th, and we left ion the 12th. It was like that. We woke, I showered (everyone else had showered the night before), and called the Uber. We said goodbye to Picasso and made our way to the LAX.

We flew to Toronto, five hours away and had dinner, but late and at a bar because of the three hour difference, and put eyes on USA beating the hell out of that first opponent. From there we flew to Amsterdam, and tried to navigate the airport to get to our first hotel, in the Dutch countryside that normal Yanks would see on a map and say, "Yeah, that's not quite Amsterdam's city center, but..."

Little would they know that Amstelveen, as the hamlet is known, is in the view of the local Dutch, like...the countryside. Getting there, once we left the free WiFi confines of the airport, much more challenging.

The weather turned chilly, the sky was ominous, and the locals viewed us with, if not scorn, then a general bewilderment. They didn't get tourists in this part of town, especially families of four with rolly bags designed for three weeks of travel.

The damp Dutch countryside

The bus we wanted arrived once the first few drops started dropping, after we walked around looking for the correct way---without a map---for a while, and finally made it to the Hotel Chariot.

After dinner, when Cass and I split the smoked eel appetizer, we got the kids down with the help of some melatonin, and finally, the first collection of travel, from one continent to the other, was done, and we went to bed.

We were to learn soon that Cass was going to be up for fish at all times, and of all kinds, for the duration of this trip.