KLM: A+; Northwest/Delta: FAIL

Here's a report on my journey home from Amsterdam, and a few more miscellaneous photos from my trip. Before I relate the tale of the long road home, let's take a look at the doorway to the left. I took quite a few pictures of the entrances to buildings while I was in Amsterdam, but I'll just post this one. I loved the blue color, and the interestingly placed door knob. Sadie, who lived in Amsterdam for several months, told me that the notices next to the letterbox (hard to see in the photo) indicate whether the occupant will accept junk mail & advertisements or not. What a concept!

I went to the airport before dawn on my day of departure, only to learn that my name had inexplicably been wiped off the passenger manifest for my return flight home. KLM tried to get me on the early morning flight to Detroit, but it didn't pan out. However, a representative whisked me off to their offices, and I waited in comfort while they scrambled about making new travel arrangements. After a short time, I had a confirmed booking on a 10:30 flight. KLM also gave me vouchers for food & beverage while I waited in the terminal, a coupon for 2000 flyer miles, and a considerable wad of euros in cash.

When I boarded the plane, I was relieved to see that I was not seated in the middle of the middle. On a flight home from Spain one time I was seated in the very back row of the middle section, which meant that the seat reclined about one inch. I was between a rambunctious two year old boy and a very large man. That was a long flight.

This time I had an aisle seat, and - bonus! - was beside a handsome young man. He turned out to be an American who played on a professional Norwegian hockey team. He was very friendly & engaging without being annoyingly talkative when I was ready to nap. He was traveling home for the holidays.

When I arrived in Detroit, my plans went south, which meant that I did not. More about that after you browse my remaining photos from Amsterdam.

Taken from a street near Suzanne's apartment. The Amstel River is at the end of the block.

David & Suzanne chatting on the sidewalk when we first arrived.

My little suitcase in my corner of the apartment. It was nice not having a lot of extra baggage.

Suzanne & Brett moved into their new apartment just a couple weeks prior to my visit. It's been modernized recently, and is quite spacious by European standards. This is a view of the dining room, with its opening to the kitchen.

Many first floor flats have a small private garden area in the rear. The high back walls like these are a favorite haunt of neighborhood cats. Roaming kitties can get some fresh air while they taunt indoor pets.

When they first arrived in Amsterdam, David's cats, Brenda & JJ, stayed huddled in their litter box for safety. Here, they are finally venturing out of the box to more a comfortable place on David's bed.

Suzanne opens her shop for the day! I went to work with her my second day in Amsterdam.

The shop has a nice loft, and you can see Suzanne zipping about on the main sales floor in this photo.

Amsterdam Centraal railway station opened in 1889. Trains, trams, buses, taxis, and nearby ferries make this a main transportation hub in The Netherlands. The next shot shows the station's interior decorated for Christmas.



Suzanne & I welcomed a hearty snack after traipsing around the city on a snowy day.

All of the trams that I rode were new and sleek, except for this one charming older tram. It was clean & well maintained, just like the newer models.

This building near Vondelpark had incredibly gorgeous decorative tile. The photo does not do it justice.

The lobby restaurant of the Westin Hotel at Detroit's airport, my home away from home.

When I arrived in Detroit I learned that all flights to Dulles had been cancelled because of the huge winter storm. Let me tell you, Delta/Northwest has wretched customer service. Unlike my experience with KLM, I was instructed to run my ass from counter to counter, terminal to terminal, only to be told by indifferent employees that the earliest confirmed flight would get me to Dulles on late Monday night. It was early afternoon on Saturday, so I went immediately to the Westin Hotel attached to the airport to secure a room before every other delayed traveler had the same notion.

I'll not bore you with the endless lines I shuffled through trying to get an earlier flight over the next two days. I did get a seat on a flight that was four hours earlier than the 10 o'clock flight on Monday night, but here is where Delta's greed became truly apparent: I had to pay an additional $50 to change my flight. I was so desperate to get home that I handed my credit card to the clerk. I didn't raise a fuss, because she had put in a hell of a day. It wasn't her policy; she was following Delta's instructions. I knew better than to dream that Delta would cover my hotel expenses, but since it was mutually beneficial to get backlogged passengers through their system as quickly as possible, it would have made good business sense to waive the $50 fee. I will not travel willingly on Delta/Northwest again. I'd rather stay home. Air travel is hellish enough these days without an avaricious airline bending me over their ticket counter.

Other than that, Mrs. Lincoln, how did you like the play? Quite well, thank you! The difficulties getting home could not mar the wonderful time I had in Amsterdam with Suzanne. The euros that KLM generously offered me covered my hotel expenses, and all's well that ends well. I got to see a new city, and return to my own bed with a new sense of gratitude. There's no place like home.

The air traffic control tower at Detroit mocks me from my hotel window.

Cruel Shoes & Evil Topcoats

In my previous post, I mentioned going to Amsterdam, and that I would have more photographs to share. I certainly enjoyed having my trusty cheap digital camera with me on my journey, and I am sure that the camera has already paid for itself compared to the money I would have spent on film over the past year. The picture there on the left shows my flight path across the Atlantic; or, perhaps they're bird tracks in the snow on a bridge across the Amstel River.

I traveled with David, and assisted him with getting his cats moved to Amsterdam. I was limited to one carry-on suitcase, since my other bag was a cat-carrier. David needed my checked-bag allowance for his second suitcase. I like traveling light, so this was a challenge I welcomed. I packed clothing that was in one color palette, and it worked out very well.

One dilemma was deciding what coat to take. The other was shoes.

I checked average December weather conditions before I packed, and consulted with Suzanne who, after all, has lived there for four years. Sure enough, I was making my first trip to Amsterdam during the coldest, rainiest month. Yippee! I reconsidered my plan to wear my leather bomber jacket with shearling collar. Wet leather is heavy, and not very warming. I decided on my long, dark green coat which is great in the rain. A late warning from Suzanne that the weather had turned very cold convinced me to take the coat's liner. I was dismayed to find that the coat liner filled half of my suitcase. Reluctantly, I zipped it into the coat and resigned myself to a sort of Paddington Bear appearance while I traveled.

A solitary late-night walk in Suzanne's neighborhood.

I dreamed I was a film-noir star as I walked the lonely side streets.
I love my green coat, which hits at mid-calf, because it's versatile and lightweight. It's also evil. In cold weather, the coat and I are sometimes at odds because of the triboelectric effect. I am constantly suffering shocks from static electricity, and am made timid & frightened by blue sparks at my fingertips.

Bridges and canals were everywhere.
Adding the liner to the coat intensifies the static discharge, and I am dismayed to discover that simply touching the coat makes it crackle & pop. Throwing it over my arm guarantees a shock, and taking the coat off after wearing it causes me to waver & worry when approaching any metal object. Nonetheless, I was happy for its warmth in Amsterdam, but I wish it hadn't caused me to be so jumpy.

Many commercial areas featured their own "signature" Christmas decorations, such as this street with chandeliers.
Suzanne advised me to forget an extra pair of shoes in favor of warmer clothing, so I had to choose carefully which shoes to wear. Recently, I have concluded that my athletic shoes are causing my Achilles tendons to ache terribly. It was hard to admit the truth of this. The sneakers, once so comfortable, were making lengthy walks impossible.

At first I scoffed. "Why, it can't be these shoes! Maybe I spent too much time on my feet today," I would muse (I have a desk job). Once upon a time, these shoes made me feel relaxed and at ease. I would slip them on when I came home from work. They were the solution; my "go to" shoes when I wanted comfort. Then they turned on me, but I tried to deny it. I kept putting them on hoping for a different result. My relationship with these shoes was similar to my relationship with alcohol.

I settled on a reliable pair of brown Cole-Haan shoes.


The photograph above shows what it was like taking a bike-taxi tour of Amsterdam. My feet were still tender from the last episode with my cruel shoes, so after we walked a bit one evening, Suzanne suggested trying a bike-taxi. Our driver (cabbie?) was a cheerful young man who was most agreeable, accommodating, and certifiably bonkers. He took us on Mr. Toad's Wild Ride, and that bike-taxi fit through places it was never intended to venture. At one point, we appeared to be hopelessly jammed between a building and a barrier, but he told us to stay put while he hopped out and hoisted the cab a little to the right, a bit to the left, and we were off again, careening through the crowds and causing people to leap for safety.

"Look at us! We're still alive!"

This might be Dam Square, but it went by so fast...

It's Christmastime in Amsterdam!

A quiet cafe, away from all the noise.
After a couple of days in Amsterdam, I came to a few conclusions based on observation.
There are a lot of bicyclists in Amsterdam, and you'd better watch out for them when you are walking around.
Public transportation can be an efficient, clean, and wonderful experience.
Toilets are in very small closets.
If you ask for coffee with cream, the best you can hope for is a blank stare. Ask for milk.
People get really excited about cold weather & the possibility of ice-skating. Tune in to the local news if you don't believe me.

Suzanne's apartment is a half-block from the Amstel River.

Boats and buildings line the Amstel River.

This house near Vondelpark featured lovely decorative sills.

We ducked inside the Nederland Filmmuseum to warm up when we visited Vondelpark.

I loved the tile in the lobby of the Filmmuseum, and I probably looked like an idiot taking a picture of the floor, but I wanted you to see it.

Suzanne & I spent part of an afternoon strolling through Vondelpark.

Cool car with nice paint job.

After walking the city, we stopped at Suzanne's shop for some warmth & comfort.

Ah...The Taco Shop! Conveniently located just around the corner from Suzanne, Brett, and David's new apartment. We enjoyed their Mexican food on a cold night in Holland.

Centraal Station, where I boarded a train to Schiphol Airport for an interesting trip home.

Here I am on the pre-dawn train to Schiphol Airport.

How long will it take me to get home? Will I be able to find my car at Dulles Airport? What obstacles will I face before I get to snuggle up in my own bed?

Stay tuned for more adventures on & off Planet Bill!

My Christmas Season

Christmas morning started with live Christmas music at 6:30 courtesy of Robespierre. We were all thrilled that he brought his cello to play before our early morning meeting. He played very well (who knew?), and many were astounded to learn that he's not just another pretty face.

Later that morning I went to a Christmas brunch at Robert's home, and then to dinner with Lazarus at his parents' lovely home. It was a fine day spent with friends.

Prior to Christmas, I experienced the fun of the Holiday Boat Parade on the James River at a party at Rockett's Landing with Sadie, Sheldon and Robespierre. Then we went to an art show, where we met an interesting pair of potters from Rosewood Pottery. Sadie bought me a beautiful frost green serving bowl.




Next, I took a hastily planned trip to The Netherlands to visit Suzanne. Below are a few pictures from Amsterdam, with more to follow soon. It was quite cold there and it snowed; a harbinger of getting stuck in Detroit for three days on my return trip because of winter weather.








Once I finally made it back to Richmond, Morris, Robespierre & I fortified ourselves with Greek food from Athens Tavern one evening, and then strolled down Monument Avenue to see the decorations. We noted that many houses had scaled back this year, and were not lavishly turned out for the holidays; a sign, no doubt, of the economy. Before we went to dinner, we went to Rosewood Pottery where our new pals, Janet & Kathleen, gave us a tour of their studio and explained the pottery-making process.




Was the owner of this poor car out of town when the blizzard hit? Would any of you like to buy a red sportscar...cheap?


Ah, back at my desk with my feet propped up. Those are my new shoes that I bought at Suzanne's shop. They are handmade, and they feel like butter, I tell you. The gazelle hide came from a domesticated herd that was raised to feed villagers in Africa. Suzanne offers incredibly beautiful handmade products at La Naranja. Be sure to stop by when you are in Amsterdam!

Prettige Kerstdagen!

Where in the world is Planet Bill? What does Prettige Kerstdagen mean? The questions will be (briefly) answered right away.
Prettige Kerstdagen means pleasant or merry Christmas in Dutch, and Planet Bill has temporarily relocated to Amsterdam. I have my trusty camera with me, but will have to wait until my return to the states before I post them for you.
I had a unplanned, unexpected opportunity to make a swell little visit to my friend, Suzanne, and took a flight to Amsterdam Monday. It's cold here! We arrived yesterday at mid-day, and spent the day relaxing at home, and this morning I am going with Suzanne to her shop in the Oud West section of the city.
I accompanied David, who is moving here with his two cats, Brenda & JJ. The cats traveled well, if reluctantly, and slept at our feet during the night flight. We all had to wait at Dulles for a few extra hours before departing for a replacement aircraft. Something about the original plane's toilets exploding or catching fire or somesuch. Once we got under way, the flight was quite pleasant, with minimum turbulence or squalling babies. The cats were models of composure, showing remarkable forbearance for spending over half a days time in travel carriers.
Stay tuned...more to follow!

Where Have I Been?

The year has flown by on winged feet, hasn't it? I decorated the office for Christmas earlier this week with a little silver tree with blue ornaments atop a bookcase, and a Santa and a red & green basket filled with chocolate candies on my desk. I already need to buy more candy; the people who drop in have been like vultures.

Friday night, after work, I went out to dinner with a buddy, and snapped the top photo of a porch in the Fan District. I'll be taking more pictures for you as more homes are decorated for the holidays. Many of the houses on Monument Avenue put on lavish displays, and I'm waiting for the illumination of the Christmas Cadillac.

I know that Christmas comes at a predictable time each year, but why do I always feel caught off guard? There's always too much to do in too little time. I enjoy the holidays, though, and I can certainly admire how my mother always seemed to have everything running according to schedule. She sent out boxes of Christmas cards, wrapped & packaged gifts and took them to the post office to mail to distant friends & relatives in time for Christmas delivery, and filled the cupboards with homemade goodies for guests. I remember the feeling of good cheer when people would drop in for a holiday visit. Christmas was a wonderful time of year in my childhood home. Here's a really easy recipe that my mom used to make, in addition to the cakes, pies, fudge, cookies & bars. These are so simple a child could make them, and they are quite tasty.

Butterscotch Crunchies
5 cups cornflakes
2 small packages butterscotch chips
3 tablespoons peanut butter
Melt butterscotch chips and peanut butter in a double-boiler until smooth. Place cornflakes in a large mixing bowl. Pour butterscotch mixture over cornflakes, and fold in carefully to coat thoroughly. Drop by spoonfuls onto wax paper. Allow to cool & set until firm.

This post, however, is more about autumn photographs, before it gets too late to share them with you. You will see the transition from early to late fall in the pictures. In October I traveled to Roanoke to attend an AA state assembly. Roanoke is three hours from Richmond by car, and it was the first time I've been back there since I got sober. I used to have extended business trips there, sometimes being there for months on an assignment. Boy, did I drink a lot out of loneliness and boredom in those days. I wasn't ready yet for sobriety, but I could have been meeting people & making new friends. This time I was in the midst of hundreds of people like me who enjoy the fun of a sober life.

I took the smaller highways, and the picture below was taken in the small town of Buckingham. The town was established in 1818, and the original courthouse was designed by Thomas Jefferson, but it burned down in 1869. Buckingham is home to Yogaville, where many of my friends have gone for retreats. I'm not sure what the building in the photo was before it was left to the elements, but I've been looking at it for years while passing through the small village, and wondering what it was.

(Possibly the Whately Mill from The Shuttered Room?)

My route took me through Appomattox, where Lee surrendered to Grant. Most people assume that this was the official end of the Civil War, but it was not. It was certainly the nail in the coffin, however, and effectively determined the outcome of the war. When I was little, my parents & I took an overnight trip to tour the historic park, and we stayed at the motel pictured below. It looks pretty much the same as it did in the 1960's.


Here's an old country store & service station, which now sits empty at Mount Rush. By the way, the abandoned building is Mount Rush, because there's nothing else at this crossroads other than a house or two. This could be the business opportunity you have been waiting for.


Here's what I'm talking about. You can use the example below as your business model. On Route 60, on the outskirts of Buckingham, I found an old gas station that has been painted pink and turned into a massage parlor. I didn't have time to stop to inspect the interior, but it probably looks fabulous. I'm all about adaptive re-use.



Below is an example of the pleasant countryside. I'm so much happier when I am traveling on the forgotten highways. Interstate highways are fine if I absolutely have to travel as fast as possible, but I prefer the interesting sights that can only be seen when you travel the old roads.


Before it was time to put her boat to bed for the winter, Sadie took me out for an end-of-season cruise. We left around twilight, and it was a pleasant, slow ride. Darkness came swiftly, so there were not any opportunities for a shutterbug, but I did get an okay shot from the water of the Boathouse Restaurant glittering at night. Several of us have enjoyed their Sunday brunch, and the view of the James River as we dined.


One evening after work, I met my friend Linus at a nearby Starbucks for coffee & conversation. Linus recently had back surgery, so he's out & about in his neighborhood taking walks to aid his recovery. One advantage of a slow walk is being able to enjoy sights that are easily missed from a moving car. Linus urged me to take some daytime pictures of a beautiful little maple tree on Grove Avenue at the peak of its fall splendor, so I dashed by there the next day. I wasn't one bit disappointed.




I've been admiring a 1961 Chrysler that sits in a parking lot on the side of Church Hill, so I stopped to take a few shots one Sunday.
Ah, the exuberance of fins!



This '61 model has a friendly, slightly zany expression. The 1960 Chryslers looked bellicose.


This isn't the clearest picture because of the glare, but I can't resist an old dashboard. You can't see it from this angle, but this car featured the "pushbutton" transmission.


Morris & I decided to go on a ride one Saturday afternoon, and after some indecision about the direction to take, ended up driving south and then east. This put us in Hopewell, which is a tired little industrial town at the convergence of the Appomattox & James Rivers.

There is one section of Hopewell that neither one of us had visited called City Point. It was quite pretty and somnolent. We went on Thanksgiving weekend, so I figured that everyone was inside taking naps. We parked near old Appomattox Manor, and it was hard to believe that this silent & still setting was, briefly, one of the busiest ports in the world.

The rivers meet at City Point



Boy, if these walls could talk! Appomattox Manor remained in the same family from 1635 until 1979. Benedict Arnold led his British troops across the plantation during the American Revolution, and the property was used by General Grant as his headquarters during the Siege of Petersburg during the Civil War. Abraham Lincoln vacationed here just a few weeks before his death. At the time of the Civil War, Appomattox Manor was a 2300 acre James River plantation.

Federal forces recognized the strategic value of this point that watched the two rivers. An enormous supply depot & railroad facilities, and a huge hospital were built here, and the resulting port was the busiest in the world during the Petersburg siege. The capture of Petersburg and its railroads led to Lee's surrender about a week later.

When the Eppes family returned at war's end, the house was in shambles and the plantation was all but destroyed. Somehow, the family was able to prevail and rebuild.

A quaint & curious little building on City Point.
Town Hall? Schoolhouse? Quaker Meeting House?
There was no plaque to inform us.

Our last photograph shows an old house on the outskirts of downtown Claremont. When we left City Point, I asked Morris if he had ever been to Claremont. He replied that he had not ever been to Claremont. I asked him if he had ever heard of Claremont. He allowed that he had never heard of Claremont. So we went to Claremont.
Claremont has a population of 343.

Claremont is a town that seems forgotten, almost like one of the Miskatonic hamlets in an H.P. Lovecraft story. You have to turn off a two-lane road, and travel several lonely miles up a road that dead-ends at Claremont. Clearly, the town experienced a period of commercial activity, and anticipated more prosperity than ever arrived. There is a tiny traffic roundabout, and a couple of rows of dilapidated vacant storefronts. There is at least one structure that may have been a hotel. A church or two. All have a forlorn look, as if the parade came and went, and they have given up on its return.