Our last day in Munich was a sunny one so we went for another walk along the river. There we saw the usual assortment of naked old men and, finally, a (99.9%) nude woman! At least I think it was a woman, although, again, it wasn’t quite what I was hoping for (above.)

Our two-day layover in Amsterdam was foggy but restful. We rented bicycles and rode into Haarlem. As you will remember from 8th Grade American History class, New York City’s Harlem borough got its name from this Dutch original. (New York was settled by the Dutch as New Amsterdam and then “turned over” to the English when it became New York.)

In Haarlem we picked up souvenirs for the grandkids and saw this bicycle to add to my album of unusual bicycles:


The woman who rode this bicycle said she ferries four children to school on it – two on the seats and two on the rear rack with their feet in the saddle bags.

We took the night train into Amsterdam to see the famous Red Light District (our hotel was at the airport, ten miles distant.) About the only thing of note we saw in the district were swarms of other tourists come to see the Red Light District. We found ourselves behind another couple, briefly, who stopped every block to ask locals “Where is the Red Light District?” The answer: “You’re in it!” Although we didn’t see any of the prostitutes advertising their services (live) in display windows, there was a certain ambience to the night. The fog had lifted just as the sun went down and a full complement of stars along with a nearly full moon lit the night sky over the city.

Mary’s extensive shoe collection at home was never in danger of this Dutch addition:


Going through airport security was more than the usual hassle. My Jet Boil stove, buried in the innards of my pack, must have looked like a bomb on the x-ray scanner because they had me disassemble the pack twice. This was on top of a little incident at the body scanner. As I was standing in that thing with my arms raised like a criminal suspect, my one-track brain was simultaneously bombarded by instructions from Mary (“Lief, take off your watch!) and airport security (“Sir, do not move!”) I guess Mary has me pretty well trained because it was her instruction that I tried to obey. The airport security guy had to countermand her in a louder voice: “SIR, DO NOT MOVE!” After a few tense moments, we were allowed to join the uncriminal passengers.