Westfries Museum in Hoorn, the Netherlands

Love the richly adorned façade of the Westfries Museum in Hoorn, the Netherlands.  The building itself is called the Statencollege and was built in 1632 right in the city's central square, de Roode Steen.

A Flushing Dilemma

I have been perplexed at times, while traveling in Europe, about a task I consider here at home to be pretty straightforward - flushing the toilet.  I remember when I was a child, entering a public restroom in Europe was often a mystery.  What sort of medieval plumbing contraption was I required to push, pull, turn, yank or crank to finish the job I came to do?

Take, for example, the lavatory below, frequently encountered in many European countries:

If you haven't chanced upon a pull chain device such as this before, certainly you might search all around the commode looking for a button or lever to flush.  If you are a young child, you undoubtedly wouldn't think to look up to do the job.  And if and when you finally do, there's the likelihood - as in this photo, that you possibly cannot even reach it.

Europeans have gone green, way more than we have here in the U.S., and although we are starting to see dual flush toilets here, the different varieties of mechanisms will cause you pause each and every time.

And, of course, you know I have to bring up everyone's favorite foreign commode:  the squat toilet, also known as the Natural Position toilet (yeah, right, natural for men maybe).  Are these still found in civilized countries?  Yes!  The photos below were taken by my friend recently in Italy.  I've encountered them as well in Greece, Hungary, and even France.

If you have a young daughter, do not let her attempt to use a squat toilet without your help.  I never managed these latrines as a child without tinkling all over my pants and shoes.  And let's just say the germs your child might come into contact with if you're not there to avert a slip or a fall would probably warrant a tetanus booster.

Sometimes in a foreign restroom you will read a sign, occasionally in legible English, asking you not to place toilet paper in the trash receptacle.  You may wonder why the need to elucidate such an obviously nonsensical idea.  That is because there are some countries with poor or no plumbing where you WILL be asked to deposit your toilet paper in the trash receptacle because flushing it will clog the toilet.

Men, like always in these matters, have little difficulty finding a place to go in Europe.  Public urinals are an accessory to many historical buildings in Europe, such as this ancient looking urinol adjacent to the Castle of São Jorge in Lisbon (below) and another near the historic center of Gouda, in the Netherlands (also below).

Public urinal in Lisbon.

Urinal in Gouda, the Netherlands.

And always remember to have a bit of spare change on you when entering a WC in Europe because you never know when you might be caught by surprise by a Klofrau wanting to wipe down the seat for you!

The Old Wooden Shoe Carver in Gouda

My family loves to watch craft demonstrations, and what could be more culturally relevant and fun in the Netherlands than observing a wooden shoe carver at work?  This old gentleman at the cheese market in Gouda kept us entertained for at least an hour watching his skill with ax, chisel, and file.  In his perfect English he told us he had been making Dutch wooden shoes his entire life, and now, in his retirement, he likes to demonstrate the centuries-old handicraft at fairs, markets, and international shows.

Wooden shoes are called klompen in the Netherlands (because of the klomp-klomp sound they make when you walk) and are still worn by many people in the lowlands of Europe even today:

Starting with a block of soft but strong aspen wood, the friendly shoe carver in Gouda roughly shapes it into a shoe with an ax.  He then continues to file and chisel the shoe into its final shape.

Later it is painted and/or etched with wood-burned designs.  Wooden shoes in all sizes are one of the most popular souvenirs purchased in Holland!

Finished and unfinished klompen.

Related posts:
Chocolate Making in Broc, Switzerland
Cheese Making in Gruyères, Switzerland
Violin Making in Mittenwald, Germany
Glass Making in Murano, Italy
Porcelain Making in Delft, the Netherlands, and in Oberschliessheim, Germany

Photo Friday: Playing Dress-Up

My kids are both teenagers now, and yes, they occasionally still like to play dress-up when we travel:

My son as Spanish matador.

Cordovan hat.

Flamenco hair flower.

Just like when they were younger:

Royal orange cowboy hat in Amsterdam.

Bavarian carnival hat.

This is my link-up post to Photo Friday at DeliciousBaby.com.

Celebrate Springtime!

Today is the first day of Spring!

Are you traveling anywhere lovely for spring break??

I'd like to say these tulips were real,
but they're plastic souvenirs for sale
in Holland.

These Edelweiss plants are real!
For sale in Hallstatt, Austria.

My son likes flowers too.  Posing in the garden
of the Residenz Palace in Würzburg, Germany.

Garden in Marigny Square in Paris.

Garden in Grainau, Germany.

Photo Friday: The Color Purple

Purple is my daughter's favorite color, so she was thrilled when she spotted this duplex in Delft, the Netherlands.

This is my Photo Friday link-up post to DeliciousBaby.com.

I Am Thankful

This Thanksgiving I am thankful for the wonderful, diverse people we have met, learned from, or merely encountered on our travels in Europe:

Antonio, our gondola driver in Venice.

Anna from Finland who taught us to build an igloo in Switzerland.

The wooden shoe carver in Gouda.

The violin player in Budapest.

Beefeater in London.

Woman on her way to a wedding in Seville.

A lonely matador in Madrid.

A precious toddler in Bavaria, Germany.

Our waiter in Seville.

Beautiful little girl in Tarifa, Spain.

H A P P Y   T H A N K S G I V I N G ! !

A Canal House Apartment in Gouda

Besides being one of my favorite towns in Europe, Gouda in the Netherlands is also affordable for a family to visit.  Our studio apartment in the attic of a cute little canal house cost us only 75€ a night for the four of us in 2010.  It wasn't the most spacious of units we've ever stayed in, nor did it have a kitchen (only a microwave), but it was clean and well-located near the main square.

Aan de Gouwe Bed and Breakfast in Gouda, the Netherlands.

The apartment, Aan de Gouwe Bed and Breakfast, is owned and run by a young family that lives downstairs.  We booked the unit on bedandbreakfast.nl, a service we've used more than once and are always very pleased with.

What impressed us the most about our stay at Aan de Gouwe though, was the breakfast spread this young mother put out for us every morning, even whilst her toddler sat quietly in a high chair in her kitchen.

This kind owner would set a table right outside on the sidewalk and bring out dish after dish after dish of food, fresh and warm from her own kitchen.  Stacks of pancakes with butter and syrup, a pile of bacon, scrambled and hard-boiled eggs, cheeses, yogurt, a large breakfast crumb cake, stroopwafels, a variety of American cold cereals, juices, coffee, cold milk, toast and Nutella.  What a great way to start each and every travel day!

And did I mention the owner was about 9 1/2 months pregnant when we were there, yet she climbed up and down these steep, narrow canal house stairs (below) with more vigor than even my kids could muster?  It made me nervous every time she ambled up balancing a tray of coffee and tea or fresh flowers for our room.

Room with a view towards Gouda.

Gouda is only a 50 minute train ride from Amsterdam, and Aan de Gouwe Bed and Breakfast is an easy walk from the train station.

Bicycles can be rented at NS Rijwielshop Gouda on the north side of the main train station and are not only a great way to get around Holland, fun for the whole family, but also a Dutch way of life.  The tourist office, known as the VVV, in Gouda at Markt 27, is very helpful with accommodations and other activities.

Aan de Gouwe Bed and Breakfast.

The Night Spain Won the Euro Soccer Championship

The reference at the bottom is hoping
for a third straight major tournament title.

Without even planning it, we have been, on two occasions, in the right place at the right time with regard to soccer championships in Europe.  As even most Americans now know, soccer is colossal in Europe.  It is not just a sport, but a lifestyle, a matter of national identity and fierce loyalty.  Thus to witness a European country's celebration of an international soccer championship can be a cultural event as unique as Oktoberfest, Carnival, or a royal wedding.  Or it can be just mass chaos and craziness.

One day visiting Amsterdam in July 2010, we began to wonder why the streets and canals seemed to be closing down and residents were suspiciously appearing in droves dressed in bright orange.  We were surprised to find ourselves in the middle of the wild celebrations to greet Holland's returning World Cup soccer team from their second place victory in South Africa in the 2010 FIFA World Cup.

So we were amused by the coincidence, especially since we don't follow international soccer, to find ourselves in Spain this summer on the day of the final match of the European soccer championships:  Italy against defending champion Spain.

Souvenir soccer jerseys were for sale on every corner in Seville, but my 13 year old son was disappointed to find the going price well over 50€ and not worth almost his entire souvenir budget.  He did make sure to get a flag though, to show his support that night during the game.

By late afternoon little television sets were being wheeled out of every restaurant and tapas bar to the patio where large groups were expected to gather.  Not to be stuck without seating for this major event, we donned any red outerwear we could find in our luggage (my daughter had no luck with this) and headed out early for our favorite little tapas bar just steps away from the front door of our apartment in the Barrio de Santa Cruz.

We had already befriended a cute young waiter at tiny little Casa Carmelo earlier that week and he eagerly greeted us this night to paint the Spanish colors on my son's face and daughter's arm.  Hubby and I ordered our daily ration of sangria and a variety of tapas:  patatas bravas, pescaito frito, calamares, and pollo al ajillo.  Yummmmmm.

The game was very exciting.  Each time there was a goal the crowd roared and the cooks from several surrounding restaurants would rush out of their kitchens balancing white chef's hats on their heads to watch the replay.  Particularly entertaining for our group of spectators was the large family of Italians seated at the bar who unfortunately for them chose this night to be in Spain, but I think they handled the jeering and in-your-face fist pumps with a fine show of sportsmanship.

The growing crowds on Avenida de la Constitucíon.

After Spain's 4-0 victory, my daughter and I were bushed and went to bed, but my husband and son decided to brave the crowds and craziness on the streets of Seville.  My husband is surely glad I didn't go because in retrospect he would've had to fight off my panic with a stick when our son was heedlessly separated from him on the grand Avenida de la Constitucíon.  It is a testament to how often we had already navigated the narrow twisting alleys of the barrio before that night, that my son managed to find his way back to the apartment by himself.  I don't know who looked more shocked when he knocked on the door - him or me.

Photos from the frenzy:

Climbing into the fountain at Puerte de Jerez.

We had to laugh the following day when we ate dinner at an Italian restaurant in Ronda, Spain, and saw this little bit of mischievousness below: