Bicycles

The Dutch love their bicycles. I’m sure the country has many more bicycles than cars; it sure looks that way visiting Amsterdam. During a walking tour I got to experience the Dutch bicycle culture from a pedestrian perspective, and it ain’t a pretty picture.

When we managed to make it to Amsterdam in time to catch the boat, it also gave us time to take the walking tour of Amsterdam. The ship puts on a walking tour as part of the package in every place we stop. These tours utilize local guides, and so far they have been very good. They all speak English and use an in-ear audio system that allows you to hear them clearly from quite a distance. I’ve used these systems previously, and they are not always that good, but Viking’s system works great.

Bicycle Parking

As soon as we got off the ship we were warned about the Dutch bicyclists. Our guide cautioned us, “Do not cross when bicycles are coming, even though it is a crosswalk and they are required by law to stop they will not.” Following his lead we waited for a break in the bicycle traffic, and rushed across the bike lane.

Walking through the downtown of Amsterdam bicycles are everywhere. Most streets have long bike racks and these are crammed with bicycles, sometimes with additional bikes on top of others. The official bike racks do not come close to accommodating all of Amsterdam’s bicycles and every fence, railing, post or anything solid is covered with bicycles, chained there with massive bike locks. Walking down one street bordering a popular museum, I asked for a translation of a sign posted to every window, and discovered that is was a dire warning against locking your bike to the window bars. I then noticed no bikes on this street.

An interesting note about Amsterdam’s bikes is that they are all old and shabby looking; you see no fancy 18 speed bikes or slick road racers, these are all very solid utilitarian bikes. Our guide explained that everyone owns more than one bike, and indeed everyone has a fancy bike that is used for rides where you return home immediately, but the bikes parked downtown were used to drive to work and you never left your good bike here or it would be stolen, so everyone had a “beater” that was carefully aged, rusted and battered to be used everyday.

Personalizing your Ride

We were told to notice the stickers on some of the bikes. They were put there by the city and noted how long the bike was there. Anything left for too long was cut free and trucked about 15 klm out of town to a bike compound where you had to go ransom you imprisoned bicycle to get it back; an effective deterrent to long term storage on public property, but certainly necessary judging by the massive bike jams downtown.

I noted that the Dutch have adapted to cell phone use on bikes very well. I saw  many one handed bike-texters. Apparently there is a law against “Texting while driving” in Amsterdam that applies equally to bikes, but it is universally ignored, (Sounds familiar)

Walking back to the ship, we were again warned about crossing the bike lane carefully, and our guide deliberately challenged one biker by stepping into the marked crosswalk, but the rider refused to slow down and swerved around him uttering something in Dutch that our guide declined to translate . . .

Iceland?

We are off on another of our adventures, this one to Europe for a 14 day river cruise with Viking Cruises followed by 14 days in an apartment overlooking the Danube River in Budapest. This adventure did not get off to a good start however . . .

Iceland

 

We were informed at check-in at the airport that our first flight from Halifax to Toronto was “Delayed” in St. Johns with mechanical problems. We did not have a lot of time in Toronto between flights, so this was an immediate worry made worse when we were given the “good news” that the plane had left St. Johns NFLD. This was not good news for us since our plane from Toronto was not waiting around for us. The airline kindly offered us a hotel in Toronto and rearranged our flights to Amsterdam . . . . a flight to Dallas Texas in the morning and way later in the day, a flight to Amsterdam that would get us there by Monday, when the boat would be well on it’s way to Germany.

On the Boat

We could join the cruise, but not until Tuesday in Cologne, so we debated giving up and fighting with the Travel Insurance company and the cruise company for compensation, but finally elected to go to Toronto and hope for the best.

Fortunately I found a friendly and resourceful Westjet employee, who had some imagination and instead of saying “no” said “Let’s try something else.”, and after computer searches, phone calls and queries from me, suggested “This is a bit of a complicated route but it will get you there.” He found a flight to Iceland leaving in an hour with another flight an hour after getting to Iceland that would get us to Amsterdam by noon on Sunday in plenty of time to catch the boat.

River Boats

So almost exactly 24 hours after leaving home we had added another country to our list and we were tired but comfortably settling into our cozy cabin on the Viking Baldur. And we still had time to explore Amsterdam on a walking tour.

Engines, Exhaust Pipes, and Oily drip Pans

Ok, so girls, you may not want to read this blog post. I’m afraid it is about my visit to the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum in Hamilton Ontario, and I admit it, I love the engines, exhausts and oily drip pans. This one may not interest you.

On the way back from Niagara-on-the-lake I decided to stop at the Canadian Warplane Heritage Museum with my daughter’s significant other, Mark, who was really interested in visiting this attraction. It is a really nice museum featuring Canada’s aviation history with an emphasis on warplanes from the Second World War. What is interesting about this museum is that it is a working restoration and maintenance facility. As you walk around, you see the planes as they are being worked upon.

This is not a government museum, it is a charitable foundation started by two friends with a love of old planes. They started with a Fairey Firefly, that needed restoration, and now have over 40 planes in a hanger at Hamilton Airport. Their most significant airplane is a Lancaster bomber from world war two that is one of only two currently flying. Their mandate is to maintain a collection of aircraft from the second world war to the present, but a visit to their facility clearly shows that a strong emphasis has been placed on actually maintaining and flying these planes. Rather than sitting safely in a museum, the planes of the Canadian Warplanes Heritage Museum are used, the engines run, and they are flown on a regular basis.

As I walked around the museum, it was fascinating to see these planes being restored and maintained. One side of the museum is a working restoration facility, and you can see the planes in various stages of completion, and you can read about the trials and tribulations of the process. As I walked around, the huge Lancaster bomber was sitting in the middle of the hanger surrounded by people actively working on it. I watched as new tires and brakes were installed and the four massive Rolls Royce/Packard engines were exposed and being worked upon.

A closer look at the group of people working on the planes shows a mixed group of mostly older grey-haired airplane technicians, because although the foundation does have paid employees, 100% of the work done on these amazing planes is performed by volunteers doing it out of a love of Canada’s avation history. As I toured the facility I asked one gentleman who was cleaning a B25 Mitchell Bomber if the engines worked. He explained that any plane that had an oily drip tray under the engine could be started and flown. As I continued my tour I discovered that most of the planes had a dented oil stained metal tray under the engines. I was told that the Lancaster Bomber was being maintained for a transatlantic fright to England for a tour.

 

Interested in taking a flight? One way the foundation raises money to maintain the planes is to take people up for flights. The price varies depending on the plane, but I was told that someone had given over $200,000.00 to be on the Lancaster’s upcoming flight to England.

Wine Tasting

Waiting to ripen

The area around Niagara-on-the-Lake is rapidly being taken over by vineyards. Where they used to grow peaches and other fruit, the wine industry is encouraging the planting of grapes. The last peach canning plant closed years ago, and many farmers have cut down the peach trees and planted grapes. Everywhere you look there are neat rows of tidy grape vines, and all these grapes are being processed into wine by the many wineries in the area. Spending three days in the area tasting wine, we found at least two new wineries that had only opened in the past few years. The production of wine and the popular tourist wine tasting tours is becoming a major industry in the area.

Sit with a glass

Visiting some of the wineries in the area and tasting the wine has been very entertaining, and I have learned a lot about wine and wine tasting. One thing I have learned is that the person guiding the tasting makes a huge difference. On Saturday the wineries were very busy, and although we did taste many glasses of wine and bought some good bottles, it wasn’t until Sunday when we actually found some good hosts and did some real wine tasting.

The difference is subtle but important. All the wineries have someone behind a bar who will pour wine into a glass and let you taste it; the good ones have a person who pours you wine, talks to you about it, decides what you like and dislike and guides your tasting based on what he and you learn. Some have a list of wines you can taste and start at the top and work their way through allowing you to decide what you like, and hopefully want to buy. The good guides (I actually have no idea what these folk are called), start by asking you what your preferences are in wine. Then instead of just working through the list, they tailor the wine you taste to your preferences. They also ask you about the wine and based on what you liked or disliked suggest different options. I found that servers who expressed their own preferences and opinions ended up being very helpful. “Oh, I really like that one too, and I really like this other bottle, would you like to try that?”

Hmmmmmm. . . .

I enjoyed the knowledgeable servers who instead of just pouring a little wine in your glass, and stand back waiting for you reaction, add comments such as telling you what grapes are in the wine, and even food pairings for the wine. The very best servers had stories about the wine and how it was developed or how the wine maker developed the wine.

On Saturday I had wine poured for me, but on Sunday I had at least three servers who actively engaged me in the tasting and from these people I learned something about the wine and about how to taste wine. I discovered that I actually have pretty subtle and distinctive taste for certain wine, and those servers who worked with that were able to sell me some very nice wine.

Back To Portsmouth

Last year, during a trip to New England we stopped in Portsmouth over night. I searched Google Maps for places to eat, and discovered that Portsmouth has an amazing number of really good restaurants. However, they must also have a lot of hungry restaurant patrons, because every place I choose had waits of over an hour. One place I was interested in told me it would be at least two hours. We ended up having a decent meal in a chain restaurant in a huge mall out near the Interstate – BORING!

The Hotel Portsmouth

This year while going through New England on our way to Niagara On The Lake for another Wine Tour with the Children (We believe in demonstrating a positive parental attitude towards alcohol . . . . .), we decided to return to Portsmouth and give it another try. We booked a room at The Hotel Portsmouth, right downtown within walking distance of all the best eating establishments - really beautiful old hotel with reasonable rates, comfortable rooms and a wonderfully helpful desk clerk.

Wall Art In Portsmouth

We left early and walked downtown to Jumping Jay’s Fish Café, and had no problem getting a nice table at the window. This place had amazing reviews and it lived up to all of them. I literally have never seen such fast and efficient service. Someone here knows how to work a kitchen. We had our drinks and our shared appetizer arrived, thoughtfully served on two plates. We finished our appetizer and had barely time to chat when our mains arrived. Both dinners were cooked to perfection and delicious.

Good Seafood!

Now although we were pretty busy enjoying our meals, I did have time to spend some time “People Watching”. Sitting beside us was the oddest group. Two couples were enjoying a meal, but it was interesting to listen and observe them. They obviously were “old friends” who had gone their separate ways but got together on a fairly regular basis. Although “friends”, these two couples could not have been more different. One couple was fashionably thin, trim and stylish, the other were overweight, over dressed and out of their league. One couple ordered a bottle of chardonnay, asking the server for a recommendation; the other ordered a beer and an over ordered cocktail  - something with Southern Comfort and extra cherries . . . . . Huh?. In fact everything she ordered was a “special” order  -  “Could you blacken the fish and give me different vegetables?”. I had the meal she “changed” and in my opinion she ruined a delicious dish; man those roasted beets with balsamic reduction were “to die for”. . . . . .

Fun in Portsmouth

I am very glad I went back to Portsmouth . . . . .

April in Ottawa

Ottawa, our nation’s capital, is usually a beautiful city. Our tax dollars are used to ensure the city looks it’s best for visitors and guests. However like some great beauties she is not the best after just waking up from a sleep. It has been a hard cold winter, and in April the city is not quite ready to receive visitors.

The Ottawa River

We have experienced winter in Ottawa, and the civic workers who maintain the city have their hands full during the winter months just keeping the snow off the streets, so the daily debris from Ottawa’s busy inhabitants simply gets pushed around with the snow rather than picked up, and as the snowbanks disappear in April, months of neglect start to appear. Not only the public areas, but the little private patches of gardens and green in front of the houses are littered with winter’s debris.

Yesterday was a warm sunny April day, and fresh air and exercise was just what my stubborn cold needed, so I set off on a leisurely stroll around Ottawa, down through Centertown, Chinatown and down to the Ottawa river where I walked along the pedway below parliament to the Rideau which I followed to Summerset and finally cutting through

Tire Garden needing weeding

Elgin & Bank to get back to Ryan’s house. My walk showed me that Ottawa really is not at it’s best in April.

The Ottawa River was carrying the last of the melting river ice from upstream, but the ducks and Canada geese were dodging not only ice, but chunks of Styrofoam, logs, campfire remains and all other unsorted debris. The Rideau Canal looked no better, drained to a minimum water lever (for Spring cleaning?) with melting ice chunks still remaining, the skate changing houses sitting at awkward angles at the edges, and showing the castoff from a busy winter season of skating on the longest outdoor rink in Canada.

The River's Load

The normally pristine public walkways look the worse. Stairways corners are filled with leaves and garbage, and the grass alongside paths show the scars of snow plows and other Winter damage. I was surprised to see the amount of animal damage along the river. Many trees and shrubs were stripped of bark by hungry animals and one large tree was gnawed through and toppled by what I suspect was the good old Canadian symbol, the beaver.  The Rideau Canal walkways showed it’s use by winter skaters and the number of wet, lonely and muddy single woolen socks, mittens and hats was amazing.

A Garden?

Don’t worry, it’s only April, and on my walk I saw many little private gardens raked and cleaned with Springs flowers already poking through, and sawdust and piles of branches are evidence that the work crews have started the annual Spring cleanup. I’m sure that by the time the Canadian Tulip Festival in May rolls around, the city will be looking her usual best.

The wheels on the Bus

The last stop of our Tour of the South, was in Myrtle Beach South Carolina. We had friends from back home spending a month here, enjoying the sun and playing golf. We had planned on taking in another NASCAR race at the famous old track in Darlington South Carolina, nicknamed “The Lady In Black”. I had arranged to take our friend to the Sprint Cup race and he had another friend who also wanted to be introduced to the NASCAR experience.

Darlington Pit Lane

Regis and I drove to the track on Friday and it was not a bad commute, but is almost 2 hours away depending on traffic, so we decided to take a shuttle bus on Saturday leaving us free to enjoy a few beer as we watched the race. The bus was great getting us to the track. It picked us up at the designated location on time, and we had a relaxing drive to Darlington.

Not so much on the way home . . . . . the trip started out good, and it was nice to allow the bus driver to fight the traffic jam as thousands of people tried to leave the track at once, but about half way back to Myrtle Beach, the bus slowed and the driver pulled off the road announcing that her bus had “Quit”. After a couple of failed attempts to get the engine started, she left to confer with the driver of the other bus driving with us. Together, they tried a couple of things but to no avail.

Not exactly as Illustrated

Then the other driver pulled his bus (Full of people) out onto the road and pulled up beside our bus to attempt to jump the batteries. As a constant stream of traffic funneled into one lane around the two busses, they made a couple of attempts to fire the bus this way, but no luck. Finally the other driver closed his door and pulled away promising to come back for us if we did not get going. We were left on the side of the road in a dark bus, with 4 way flashers steadily growing weaker and dimmer as the poor batteries drained away.

By this time we had figured out that they knew this bus had a bad alternator and could not possibly make it to Darlington and back so they arranged to park together at the track to recharge the batteries, but this did not work properly. Our driver announced that she had a gas generator and battery charger, but with the busy road was not keen to be standing on the road setting this up as vehicles whizzed by her at 100 kph. I’m sure this is not standard equipment for “Operational” busses . . .

Finally someone suggested she call the police, and in the ensuing phone conversations we discovered that there was a serious question about who’s responsibility we were, because she was not exactly sure which side of the county line we were on. She knew we were next to the slaughter house, but not much else. This was starting to sound like a plot to a low budget horror movie – deserted road, broke-down bus, slaughter house . . . . .  They seemed to be arguing back and forth about who might come and help us.

The Fuzz

Finally we ended up with not one police car, but four sitting behind us with lights flashing. This did finally slow traffic down, and I’m sure that with four sheriff cars surrounding the bus and the highway full of police officers and passengers milling about it looked like a major drug bust or some serious crime.

After setting up the generator & charger the batteries took a charge and the company owner arrived and after some fiddling managed to get the bus running again. We were back on the road again.

Now the company was very apologetic about the trouble, and they brought the second bus to speed up the process and at our first stop everyone going to Lowes got off and went with the other driver. Now he did not however know where he was going and our driver had to keep him on the phone to give him directions. Sometime during the trip our driver checked to make sure we were all on the right bus, and asked “Are there any people going to Lowes?” no response.

“Ok good, so you are all getting off at Dick’s Sporting goods?” This was followed by lots of positive responses.  “Great!” she answered over the bus intercom, “You are all Dicks!”

This of course got an immediate response and she suddenly realized what she had said. Oops . . . .

And the wheels on the bus go round & round!