Riding the rails, a Bohemian thing to do in North America but a very bourgeoisie thing to do in Europe. Our family comes from a driving culture so taking the tram or the train is a novel experience. My anxiety level rises because in order to take trains you cannot miss the connections, if you do you'll be screwed up the rest of the day. Then my anxiety will go through the roof. So we need to make our connection at 9:23 at Tram number 10. Ok if we miss that one we can get the next one at 9:33 but that's the last chance! 9:23 to 9:28, get off and get bus 36 at 9:35 which will take us across the Rhine river to the Basel Badischer Bahnhof by 9:48 which is great because we need to be there by 10:11 so we don't miss the 10:22 departure.

Which is what happened. Our friends Andy and Manuela and their kids Eleanor and Jonathan met us to say good-bye. Sad partings and fond farewells. They were also good hosts for us. Our time in Switzerland was memorable because of the people we met as much as the places we visited and things that we did.

So what's it like to ride first class in a train in Europe? Anything special? Yes and no. There were no free meals (although the girls got free popsicles and gummi bear candy and Wanda & I each got a small piece of chocolate). But we found a compartment in each train where all six seats were sealed off from the rest and we could talk and laugh and argue freely. The seats were made of soft leather but reclined only slightly. The train ride is relatively smooth with swaying around corners and the occasional rough start and stop. The girls were enamored at first but by hour 5 the novelty was wearing off.

The landscape changed from a rural south to an urban north. Golden fields of wheat interspersed with green fields of corn dotted the countryside with towns and villages clustered around churches with steeples. The urban landscape is both wonderfully ordered and at times filled with tagged bridges and walls. Graffiti is an urban reality everywhere, not just in Europe or North America. The culture of tagging is something I cannot fathom but those 'artists' don't see it as an eyesore or vandalism, it is art in their eyes.

We finally arrived at Amsterdam Centraal at 5:30, about 5 minutes late. The Centraal was hopping, it was rush hour at the station. We managed to not get run over by hordes of commuters, tourists and bicyclists. We eventually found the ticket office and purchased tickets to Almere Musicwijk. Finding the right train took some time but eventually we found it and rode the rails one more time in the day. Miriam was there to greet us at the station and we packed all our bags in the car and 3/5's of our family walked (2/5's of our family needed to use the bathroom quickly).

We were warmly welcomed once again by Bob & Miriam. The girls went out to pick the blueberries on his bushes which were used in pancakes for supper. It did feel like coming home. Everyone was tired, at least that was the story, but the parents were in bed first with the girls staying up late. Oh well, its vacation . . .