Our New Family in Latina Part One

18 Sept 2010 19:44

We left Milan at 8:15 a.m. on a fast train for Rome.  The plan had been to tour Rome for a few hours before catching the train for Latina and connecting with Claudio, our friend from Houston and his Italian family. But once in Rome, we were laden with luggage (and we have relatively little) and felt assaulted by a portly old woman outside the train station who kept lifting her skirt up to reveal her naked genitals. She would stand there with her skirt around her waist and yell and swish her buttocks back and forth. Not a pretty picture. We were sitting outside the station trying to eat lunch and finally put it all away and headed inside to catch a train an hour earlier than our original plan.  We found a train leaving in about 15 minutes and headed to the platform.  It was a regional train, meaning it was old and cramped and very full.  We kept passing car after car looking in the window for a car that had some empty seats.  We finally found one and stepped up into the train when we heard a very loud voice yell, "Hey!" We spun around and, lo and behold! there was Claudio! He and his wife Ramona had been on a Mediterranean  cruise and were going to spend a week in Latina where Claudio's family lives. Like us, they also took a train other than the one they had planned on taking! We were supposed to meet up in Latina, but by some stroke of luck we found each other in the Rome Terminal! We followed Claudio down to their train car and settled in with him and Ramona, thrilled that we were together. Once in Latina we were met by Claudio's neice Francesca and nephew Davida in 2 separate cars to hold 4 passengers and LOTS of luggage. After 5 minutes at Claudio's family's home, I think I now know the real way to see Italy-spend time in the home of an Italian family. When we stayed with the Piero and Luisa Laverda two years ago for a few days, we were guests. Here, in Claudio’s family home, surrounded by siblings, nieces, nephews and his wonderful mother we are family and living and breathing the Italian lifestyle. Claudio is home. He talks 90 miles a minute and I catch every 5th word, so I smile wide and nod my head a lot. His mother Stella is lovely, 81 years old, sharp and active. She has smiling eyes and a gentle smile. When I showed her the picture I took of her and Claudio, she dropped her chin to her chest and muttered, “Old, old…”

 I want to gather her up in my arms and hug her. I told her I was going to move in and that I would cook for her. I received a big smile in response. The homestead is really a compound. Claudio’s sister, Mariuccia and her husband, Pietro and two sons live next door. There is a large empty lot on the other side of Stella's house and, as we stood in the back yard I watched some gypsies wring the necks of about 8 chickens.  Stella said something had been killing them so they must have decided to finish them off themselves.

Gypsies with their now dead chickens piled on the table!

Stella's sweet dog, Yogi. (I am probably spelling this wrong)

We were soon herded next door for lunch. Walking through the yard, there were plum and pomegranate trees, an olive tree full of olives, fruiting cactus, an apricot tree and a lemon tree with lemons as big as my fist.

We were welcomed into the dining room and soon a robust red wine was served. Massive plates of spaghetti were set before us and crusty bread was put out. I watched as Mariuccia diced a small red pepper onto Claudio’s pile of spaghetti. She looked at me and I held my plate out. “Picante” she said tentatively and I smiled wide and nodded my head, “Yes, I’m from Texas…picante is good…” She diced the pepper over my pasta. I scarfed down my entire plate…it was so phenomenally good and reinforced my thinking about food in Italy-Simple is Best. Claudio’s wife Ramona was sitting next to me and related a story about their last visit to Latina. Claudio’s father asked Ramona and her daughter, Daniela if they’d like to accompany him to town because he was out of cheese. They ended up at a local goat farm where they picked up their cheese and Daniela was allowed to pet the goats. “That is the reason,” Ramona told me, “all the food here tastes so good! Everything is unbelievably fresh!” Pietro had risen from the table and was puttering in the kitchen. He returned carrying a tray of sausage, wafer thin slices of prosciutto and chunks of braeseola. On a cutting board was a wedge of pale yellow cheese. The tray and board were passed around and we all filled our plates again. More bread was torn from the loaves and we commenced to eat. As we emptied wine bottles, more were brought to the table. Our glasses were never empty. There was lots of conversation and a particular point would be made by waving a finger, a chunk of bread or a fork in the air. The laughter was infectious and although most of the time I couldn’t understand what was being said, I laughed along. Pietro once again left the table and returned with a plate filled with huge slices of yellow melon. It had a sweet, creamy flavor and after much discussion it was decided it would have been better in a day or two. I thought it was delicious…I couldn’t imagine what transformation it would go through had we waited to cut it. Pietro wouldn’t sit still and jumped from his chair again to grab some small cut glass cups and a large tin which he set in the middle of the table. He then went to the freezer and took out a bottle frosted from the cold. The liquid inside was syrupy and brilliant yellow…ahhh, limoncello! I have been so enthralled with this delicious liqueur from past visits to Italy, I actually made a batch last year as gifts. Pietro filled the tiny glasses and took the lid off the tin. “From Sardinia.” He told us. Two kinds of cookies filled the tin. He pointed to the puffy golden rounds -“Amaretti” and then to the heavily iced irregularly shaped wafers, “Especial from Sardinia!” The amaretti were sweet and almond flavored. They were delicious between sips of the icy Limoncello. The other cookies were biscuit like. I didn’t know which I liked better. Espresso finished the meal. I was stuffed. Ramona cocked her head in my direction and whispered, “It’s hard to believe we’ll eat again in six hours!” When we returned to Stella’s home, Claudio’s brother Nuncio was there. He and Claudio demonstrated how to pick the cactus fruit and then Nuncio proceeded to peel some for us to taste.

It was decided we would pay a visit to the beach for the afternoon. Latina sits south of Rome and consists of three small towns. Latina Scalo is the farthest East and is where the train station is located. Latina (Latina proper) is the main town and where Claudio’s family live. Latina Lido is the beach town. As we drove through the streets, it began to rain. Nuncio drove with one hand on the wheel and the other gesturing to Claudio in the back seat. It made for an exciting ride. We drove along the beach road with the rolling waves of the Mediterranean on one side and small shops and restaurants on the other. The rainstorm had already moved through here and it was mostly deserted. We stopped at a small café that had a sign outside reading Gelato Artigianale. Really? After the meal we just had? Scott believes the major food groups in Italy are gelato, espresso, pasta and wine and he makes sure he indulges himself as often as is humanly possible. We ordered our scoops and Nuncio and Scott also ordered espresso. I had nocciola (hazelnut) gelato, my fall back flavor when yogurt or ginger or some other fairly exotic taste isn’t on the menu. We wandered to a table close to the street and ate and talked. I was itching to get to the water. Soon we crossed the street and walked down the sidewalk until we found a place to enter the beach. The sand was damp from the rain and I took off my shoes and walked to the waters edge. I stepped into the water and walked down the beach. Everyone else held back on the sand. The waves soaked the bottom of my pants and sand clung to the hem. I was in heaven. The waves rolled onto the beach. Claudio called after me, “You are such a hippie!” I wasn’t sure what that meant, but it was okay with me.

Nuncio, Claudio, Ramona and Scott

Photos

Not a lot of time to write (and I know that's a good thing, 'cuz I've been wordy) so here's a bunch of pictures.

A typical train.  I think this was from Holland to Southern Germany. They are very comfy.

Scott at the Muiderslot Castle in The Netherlands.

A falcon at the castle.

This big owl had deep yellow eyes.  The young man who ran the falconry told us that if an owl has black eyes, he can see (and therefore hunts) at night.  With yellow eyes, they see and hunt during the day. If they have orange eyes, they can see night AND day.  This guy was really beautiful!

The Neuschwanstein Castle built by King Ludwig II-often called the Cinderella Castle because this is what the castle in Cinderella is based upon. It was pretty magnificent and quite a hike to get to it!

A building partway up the mountain on the way to the Cinderella Castle.

This castle occupied an adjacent hill and was built by King Ludwig II for his mother-in-law. It was called the Swan Castle.

Scott and I on a bridge by the Castle.

Some cool hinges on a garage down the hill from the Cinderella Castle. I never found out what purpose all the rocks on the roof served.

A gift from Cynthia-hand knitted socks! Was I ever glad for these, because the castle viewing day trip was a chilly one!

The Schloss Linderhof Castle also built by Ludwig II.  He built many, many castles in a short period of time and then he died. There are different opinions on how he died...legend has it that he was murdered because all his castle building was bankrupting Bavaria! The inside of this one was totally bizarre...so much gold leaf that it made our eyes cross. Photographs were not allowed.

One of the beautiful flower beds at Schloss Linderhof.

The gazebo behind the castle.  It is actually a waterfall.

The walkway up to the gazebo.  We are going to build one of these walkways as soon as we get home. Yup, we're gonna' get right on it...

Dinner with Cynthia and Tom our last night at their house.

The "famous" Massimo Novelli, the man behind Motocicli Veloce in Milan. I am crazy about this guy!  He is so sweet and reminds me so much of my son-in-law Justin, who I am ALSO crazy about!! We had a great visit with Massimo and Scott got lots of parts from him.

The little garden outside Massimo's shop.  We want to recreate this at home also.  It might be more reasonable to do than the covered walkway at the castle!

Massimo treated us to lunch at one of his hang outs, a restaurant named Aldo's.  We called it the Che Cafe because of a wall of pictures of Che Guevara. This pasta dish was our first course, Pasta Arrabbiata. Spicy tomato and pepper sauce. Very tasty!

As a second course, Scott had the Coniglio Morto...which literally means Dead Rabbit. And it was.

A not very great photo of Emilio, Laurel's husband.  All the pics from our visit came out foggy/faded-don't know why.  We had a sweet visit with them both.  Laurel whipped up a great snack tray while they put Scott to making martinis.  Yum!

In the little blue bowl in the back of the tray Laurel had some tuna stuffed peppers...oh my...we bought more than half a kilo today to eat tomorrow on the train.  Somehow, and I swear I don't know HOW this happened, the package got opened this evening and we found ourselves snacking on them...HELP! we can't stop!

Laurel with her martini...gee, how many olives are in that glass? Thanks guys for the lively conversation!

Tomorrow we head for a quick trip (just overnight) to Latina, a town just southwest of Rome to visit our friends Claudio and Ramona.  They live in Houston, but are on a Med cruise and tomorrow they will go to Latina to spend a few weeks with Claudio's parents in Latina.  Claudio asked us to come down and meet his family.  We are really looking forward to it!  Ciao!

 

Last Day in Holland

15 Sept 2010 13:07
In the train station in Zurich heading to Milan. We are settled in our seats and the train leaves in 2 minutes. For first class, the seats seem a little tight. Our seat mates across from us are two young men, they speak German and English. Our knees are almost touching. I had hoped for more space. I am going to try to catch up with our trip here as we have 3 hours before we arrive in Milan.

Our visit with Marnix and Renee was enlightening. We got such an education about Holland in general and Rotterdam in particular. While with Cor we were in a village and although it was busy, there was no comparison to the bustle of the big city. Rotterdam was exceptionally clean. After visiting the old part of the city and the museum downtown, Renee drove to the “bad” part of town. Not exactly what we would call the ghetto, but, according to her, pretty close. Lots of shops for African and Moroccan and Turkish foodstuffs, women with headscarves pushing baby strollers, men hanging out on street corners. Although the buildings were plain-no fancy ornamentation as in other parts of Rotterdam-and the curtains fluttering in the breeze from the open windows weren’t lace trimmed, the area was immaculate. I wouldn’t call it charming, but I could sense a pride of place, a community.

Renee and I and Marnix and Scott all met back at their house and prepared to go out to dinner. The restaurant was a sweet place with wooden floors and sturdy tables. Renee and Marnix were regulars. The menus were huge chalk inscribed slate boards. Renee patiently read off all the offerings. The Dutch language is difficult, although I can struggle through the menus-I don’t know why. I found I couldn’t understand a word of the spoken language, but reading it seemed easier…much of it how one would spell English words if done phonetically. All the Dutch meals we ate out-one with Cor and Angeline and now with Marnix and Renee-included French fries and a small bowl of mayonnaise. It seemed as ubiquitous as having salt and pepper shakers on the table. They brought a small ramekin of ketchup for us even though we didn’t ask. Yes, as Americans, our reputation precedes us-not always a positive thing. We had a nice dinner with easy conversation and then back to the house for a good nights sleep.

We were awakened the next morning by rain on the tile roof. It reminded me of rain on the tin roof at home. After showers and breakfast, our friend Will de Haan came by to pick us up. We met Will and his wife Astrid in April of this year when they visited Texas on vacation. The flew into Houston and traveled to Big Bend for a camping trip. They stopped in Fredericksburg on their way back to Houston. A mutual Dutch friend, Gido, had told Will to contact us while in the area. They met us in Fredericksburg and we had dinner together at the Brewery on Main Street. The next morning they joined us for breakfast at the ranch. Will and Astrid are an attractive couple, both tall and athletic. Astrid runs semi-competitively but more, I think, for the pure joy of it-she even ran the New York Marathon! They have backpacked all over the world and their home is decorated simply but beautifully with inspiring photographs and art. Their cat Patso:

After a quick lunch of a home made, still warm loaf of raisin bread and various cheeses, meats and spreads (even some peanut butter!), we headed out for a trip to see a castle. The Muiderslot was originally built in the 13th century by Floris V. It was almost completely destroyed and rebuilt in the 14th century. A large moat surrounds the castle and the grounds are beautifully landscaped. The property the castle sits on is more or less an island with a narrow strip of land which allows access to the castle. Large and small boats fill the harbour.

We walked through the castle leisurely, there were many interactive exhibits (some were even games!) to make it interesting for the kids. You could try on chain mail or heft a sword, dress up as a lord or lady in waiting or try your hand at jousting.  Lily always tells us how dorky we are! This is proof!

It was an interesting and thought provoking look at life in an earlier age. Although the castle had been greatly rebuilt/renovated in the mid 1800’s, particular walls were original to the 14th century. You could run your hand over them and feel the history. It made me shiver.

Back at Will and Astrid’s in Zeist, we prepared to go out for dinner. We went to one of their favorite restaurants which served Indonesian food. It was spectacular with perhaps a dozen different dishes, each one more tasty than the one before. Served family style, we all picked small bits out of the bowls and sampled everything…our favorites we went back to time and time again, although I have to say it was hard to pick a favorite as everything was so good!

After dinner, they dropped us off at the hostel where we had reservations for the night. What a place! The grounds had a large stream running through them and swans slowly glided on the still water. It was pretty quiet (Scott and I have stayed in hostels in Italy before and they could get pretty raucous!) and our room was in an old mansion. We settled in our room-a private room with 2 sets of bunkbeds…we both chose bottom bunks-and were soon asleep. We had a hike in the morning to get to the bus that would take us to the train station and onward to Germany to see Tom and Cynthia.

More Holland

11 Sept 2010

Marnix van der Schalk picked us up at our hotel the next morning.  Scott and Marnix have communicated over the internet for almost 15 years, but have never met! A handsome man just about as tall as Scott, he lives in Rotterdam with his beautiful wife Renee. Rotterdam is a fascinating city and one of the busiest ports in the world. Yet the city maintains its Old World charm.  Lots of green space and tall trees, the part of Rotterdam where Marnix lives is 6.5 meters (about 20 feet!) BELOW sea level! Their home was beautiful and full of framed maps of Rotterdam from centuries past.

We all had lunch in their small but tastefully landscaped garden and then Scott and Marnix headed out on bikes and Renee took me on a grand tour of Rotterdam. What a city!  It is busy and bustling, but still feels laid back.  Part of the city was heavily damaged in World War II and so there is a "modern" part of the city with few buildings left from before the 40's and then an "old" part of the city, which has magnificent buildings dating back to the 1700's. Those old buildings combined with canals that wind through town and the cobblestone streets transport you to a different time. It was Monument Day, which I think is a holiday celebrating Rotterdam's history, so Museums were free.  Other historic buildings were also open and we visited a windmill that is an actual grain mill! I would loved to have brought home a 50# bag of fresh milled flour, but settled for a bag of pumpkin seeds!

Renee is a historian of sorts, at least when it comes to Rotterdam, so the tour around the city was incredibly informative.  I walked around enthralled. We toured an exhibit in the Museum of Rotterdam that really had an impact on me...it displayed pictures of different places around Rotterdam before the bombing and subsequent fires which destroyed so much of the port area side by side with pictures after the devastation. It was heartbreaking. Outside the museum was a polished stone of marble? granite? I don't know, but it was engraved with a quote from one of the most famous Dutch writers and philosophers, Desiderius Erasmus which said, "War is sweet to those who have not experienced it."

Museum of Rotterdam

Statue of Erasmus

Renee and I drove down by the river and looked at various buildings.  We saw this bus which goes from the street to the river:

Well, time for bed.  I will write more on Holland and then our wonderful visit with Tom and Cynthia in Germany.  We saw some wonderful castles and took lots of pics!

Holland

09 Sept 2010 13:10
When the wake up call came in at 4:30 this morning I thought it was the smoke alarm. Loud and sharp, it made us all jump. Lily was out of bed first. She was ready to leave Paris. I was ready for more sleep. In 45 minutes we were all out the door on our way to the Metro station 4 blocks away. The streets were deserted as were the trains. Three station changes later we were at the airport. We got Lily’s ticket printed, kissed her good bye and got her in the security line. Scott and I went on to the ticket counter to change our ticket home to a day later than originally scheduled. I work in Heidelberg until 6 pm on the 26th and there are no night trains to Paris. I am not complaining about an extra day of vacation! Before heading back to the hotel we stopped for coffee, a breakfast quiche and one more macaron. When we returned to the hotel I shot off an e-mail to our Netherlands connection to let him know when we would be arriving at the train station and we packed our backpacks. We exited the hotel for the second trip of the day to the Metro. We arrived at the train station at noon and our train was scheduled to leave at 12:25. The line to get our ticket validated was a half mile long and after I stood there for 10 minutes without it moving, I blew it off and went to a machine in front of the boarding platform to validate it there. It wouldn’t work. It validated other passenger’s tickets, but mine refused to work. The RailEurope website stressed over and over how important it was to get your EuRail Pass and your tickets validated. Dire consequences were predicted if you failed to perform this task. Tough…we’ll just get on the train anyway, I mean, what are they going to do? Throw us off? I stopped a conductor as we boarded and showed him my ticket, “It wouldn’t validate in the machine…”I told him. “No problem, just get on the train.” Okay…I was certain that since I hadn’t validated our ticket to Amsterdam OR our EuRail Pass we were in big trouble. The train was crowded…it seemed every twenty something in Europe was traveling to Amsterdam on this particular day. We finally found our seats, stashed our backpacks and other bags, took off our coats and settled in when an announcement came over the intercom. Everyone had to evacuate the train. Get your bags and exit. I figured they were probably waiting for us outside the train with hand cuffs, ready to take us away for trying to sneak on the train with invalidated tickets. But no, it was a technical problem and they had another train ready for us to board. So after 20 minutes we were on a new train and it was heading out of Paris to Holland. And you know what? The conductor came by to check our tickets and simply punched the hole in them without a word…no questions and certainly no handcuffs.

The train trip to Rotterdam was uneventful except for some really bad sandwiches from the dining car because we had neglected to pack a lunch beforehand. An announcement came over the intercom as we approached Brussels. “We are arriving in the Brussels station. Please watch for pickpockets on the station platform and on the train. Keep track of your belongings.” Interesting…

When we reached Rotterdam I was determined to get our EuRail pass validated, so I left Scott below by the platform and headed upstairs to the ticket office. When I asked to have my ticket validated, the clerk hesitated and I was sure he was going to question how I got to Rotterdam. But he took my ticket and told me he had to show it to another clerk. After a short discussion he came back to his desk, stamped my Pass and that was that. We were legal and on our way.

We arrived in Leiden an hour late due to our train evacuation in Paris. At Rotterdam station we tried to call Cor to let him know of our delay, but we couldn’t reach him on his cell. After a few tries, Scott called his home and spoke to his son, Aris. Cor was at the Lieden station, but if we hadn’t arrived on that train he would have gone home. Thank goodness we caught the correct train out of Rotterdam. We first met Cor Dees three years ago at Mid-Ohio Vintage Motorcycle Days. He had come to the States with Piero Laverda for the Laverda Rally at Mid-Ohio. That had been a great trip for Scott and I with stops on the Bourbon Trail in Kentucky on the way up to Ohio. We spent time with Cor again last year Laverda’s 60th Anniversary Celebration in Breganze, Italy where we also got to meet his two sons, Mels and Aris and his wife, Angeline. I have always enjoyed spending time with Cor as he is a very energetic and enthusiastic man. He also has a vast knowledge of Laverda’s and was one of the main reasons we were heading to Holland as he has the Laverda Museum in Lisse. Holland is incredibly lovely-green and fresh and clean. The air smells wonderful and while we visited it was moist (not humid though because of the mild temps) with canals running through the Eastern part we were visiting. Cor’s home sits on the banks of a small lake and I mean this literally. The water line is a few feet from the edge of his driveway. But one side of the lake is only inches deep. I saw a flock of water birds land on the lake...and then walk around on the surface.  It was funny to see.  His property is, if I remember correctly, about 2 meters below sea level (about 6 feet). This concept concerned me and I questioned Cor about it. He explained that much of Holland is below sea level and an intricate system of canals and pumps keep the water level low and constantly pump water out into the North Sea. The canals are all fresh water, which seems amazing to me considering that they are lower than the salt water North Sea. Engineers (and city fathers) from New Orleans have traveled to The Netherlands to study how the system works. The part of Holland where Cor & his family live is a prime flower growing area. We did not arrive in the midst of the growing season, but there were still fields of flowers everywhere.

Gladiolas were just finishing, larkspur fields were in full flower, dahlias were just beginning. Walking around his neighborhood was like being in a Disney movie.

Neatly mowed green fields, long rows of flowers, bard rock chickens milling around a chicken yard, people on bicycles everywhere. And crisscrossing it all were canals and tall trees. It seemed idyllic. Cor and Angeline’s home is lovely. Spacious with beautiful views, it was warm and inviting. We had a great dinner with Cor, Angeline and their son Aris, who is 17 and very handsome with a head of curly blonde hair and smiling eyes. Angeline had prepared a shepherds pie of sorts with a delicious base of meat, vegetables and apples topped with mashed potatoes. Along with this was served a fresh salad loaded with chopped vegetables. It was a wonderful meal. After dinner I tagged along on a long walk with Angeline and her friend.  Both spoke almost perfect English and we chatted the entire way.  Once back to the house Cor, Scott and I headed out to the Museum behind Cor’s home for the first view of the collection we’d heard about for years. From the outside the building looks fairly unassuming, but once inside it was huge and full of motorcycles, photos and memorabilia. The Laverda name was first associated with agricultural equipment. They manufactured threshing machines and combines. They made wine presses. Motorcycles came into the picture in 1949 and the rest, as they say, is history and Cor’s museum was full of it. He had an early threshing machine and 2 wine presses, but from there, Laverda’s full motorbike history was represented. I walked around the museum, but was so tired that I finally sat on a stool and put my head down on the bar and dozed. I don’t know how long it was before Scott and Cor made it to my side of the room, but soon after we were in the van and heading to our room at the Hotel de Duif. We settled into our beds (yes, plural beds as Europeans seem to think twin beds are the norm for couples-I am always very grateful when we discover a hotel room with a double bed) very ready for some rest as our day had started at 4:30 putting Lily on a plane to the States. At 6:30 the next morning we were started out of bed by the fire alarm. Scott jumped about 3 feet, I just rolled over and pulled the quilt further over my shoulders. We could hear movement in the hallway-peoples voices and doors opening and closing-and at one point Scott parted the curtains and told me there was a fire truck beside the hotel. I stayed in bed. Scott walked down to reception and was told a man had been smoking in his room (strictly forbidden) and there was no danger. By the time he made it back to the room, I had reluctantly gotten out of bed and was getting dressed for breakfast. The lobby and breakfast room of the hotel was sumptuous and elegant. Plush couches faced the fireplace and dark wood paneling covered the walls. The dining room had comfortable upholstered chairs and an extensive buffet of breakfast foods that ranged from meats and cheeses to assorted breads and jams; yogurts and cereals to puddings and trays of fresh fruit. We headed to the coffee bar and made 2 café au laits and found a table. A number of coffees and some breakfast later, we returned to our room to gather clothes and head to the laundry before Cor came to pick us up so we could start our day. On the schedule: a trip to the Louwman Automobile Museum. I have to say here that by this time I was sick of cars and bikes(!). Our last afternoon in Paris I had chastised Scott rather bluntly about his constant obsession preoccupation with all things vehicular-or at least his need to involve me in his “ramblings”. I’m afraid I wasn’t as nice as I probably should have been and I will explain it away here as not enough sleep and being in Paris (perhaps I was becoming annoyed by osmosis). But in truth I will confess that sometimes (but, in my defense, infrequently) I am not as nice and tolerant of my husband as I should be. He is a wonderful man and treats me very sweetly and I should be a better wife. Okay, that’s over with (whew), now back to the Louwman Automobile Museum. It is a new museum, just opened in July and Cor had been once already and was duly impressed. As someone who mere days before complained about the proliferation of cars in our life, I was blown away. We spent almost 3 hours at the museum and I could have spent twice that. It was magnificent. Not only significant cars due to ownership (and really because they were cool cars overall)-cars that belonged to everyone from Winston Churchill to Elvis, Steve McQueen to Kaiser Wilhelm; but also unusual cars, motorized vehicles that I had never seen before. Humor me here...these are really cool...

A Fiat from the mid 70's with the interior done entirely in wicker!!

The very first motorized bus.  I thought it was interesting that, after we were told to watch for pickpockets on the train outside Brussels, we saw this sign inside this bus from 1910:

I guess some things never change!

Winston Churchill's car.  The ashtray in the back seat was huge to accomodate his fat cigars!

The ceiling of the ground floor entrance!  Stunning!

Cor Dees of Lisse, Holland.

I am so sorry I didn't get a picture of the whole family!