Hello, dear friends around the world. At last, the house is cleaned up again, the laundry done, and bills that came while I was gone have been sorted and paid. It’s time to tell you about my trip. Gosh, I don’t know where to begin. How about Day 1 … First, I’ve never gotten in or out of an airport as easily as Schipol. They are so efficient. As I walked from the concourse, I saw Janny and Wim immediately. And there were Thea and Ineke standing with them holding balloons, flowers, (that was my surprise) Monique had to work and couldn’t come. I’d met Thea last spring, but as we all hugged each other it was like I’d known them all for years. Each one had a little gift for me. What a wonderful warm feeling to be welcomed with such affection.
 

We had tea at an airport café and talked for a while, then Wim and Janny drove me to their home in Hendrik Ido Ambacht. Ambacht, for short. On the way, I was vividly impressed with the neat, orderly appearance of EVERYTHING, and the highways are as smooth as glass with billboards a rarity. Every highway I traveled was completely free of litter and trash thrown from cars. So were the streets in cities, villages, and the landscapes around them. As you can see in the next pictures, Holland is very beautiful and immaculately clean. I‘m sorry to say, they put us to shame when it comes to taking care of their country and keeping it that way. I saw abundant heavy industry, but I saw no smoke stacks were spewing pollution into the air and the skies over the cites were clear and very blue.
 

The van Wingerden’s apartment is in the middle of a row of single apartments, side by side, on a quiet, pretty street. I still can’t get over how quiet it is in Holland. Space is at a premium in Holland, and utilized to the fullest. Apartments are compact, and built up rather than spread out. Each has a little personal plaque at their door. Janny’s has a line of music (the first notes of the Blue Danube) with Wim and Janny printed under it. What a neat idea. On the first floor is the entry, kitchen, a dining area and living room that opens into a lovely little garden. Above are two bedrooms, a small office with desk and computer, and a bathroom. Above that is a laundry room and storage space. It was lovely and quite spacious. In the garden, paved with small bricks, was a table and chairs, a fish pond, and beautiful flowers on either side. (they never have to spend an afternoon mowing grass) All ponds are covered with a net to keep storks and egrets from lunching on the goldfish. It was cheerful and cozy, a nice place to sit and talk. The first thing we did was get out Janny’s quilt and put it on her bed. She loved it and I’m so glad I made it for her. That evening we watched a long video Janny taped of several interviews Andre had done for German TV shows. Some of it was in English, and they translated the rest.

Next morning (Tuesday) Janny and I went to the super market in a mall. All I can say is WOW! Fruits and vegetables lay in their boxes looking like they’d been individually washed and polished they were so clean and shinning. I saw familiar items here and there on shelves – Kellogg’s Corn Flakes, Pepsi, and Marlboro cigarettes. All the stores were incredibly clean and neat. Not in MY mall. That afternoon we drove to Kinderdijk to see a windmill. This one was a water mill, for pumping excess water off the land. Each windmill has the date it was built painted on a little sign. This one had been around since the 1700’s. I climbed stairs and ladders and saw huge wooden cog wheels that were turned by wind powered sails (or vanes). They turn giant corkscrews that pull water from the land and force it into a canal or river. The Dutch are geniuses, when it comes to controlling water. What a marvelous invention so long ago. And it still works. The windmills were used during the second world war due to the lack of oil for the more modern ones. Dinner that night was wiener schnitzel, and folks, it’s NOT hot dogs.
 

We left the windmill, and had lunch at a little restaurant on the shore of the North Sea. It was beside the ship channel where every few minutes a huge liner, freighter, or other ship enters on the way to Rotterdam, largest port in the world. I had fish and fritas (French fries) and it was delicious. Then I took off my shoes and socks and went wading in the North Sea. It was cold. I gathered up a few sea shells and we started home, stopping to see the surge barrier that holds back the sea in violent storms. A huge arm on either side of the ship channel holds the barrier. They swing out and meet at the center, keeping the water back. It’s enormous, and all run by computer. It hasn’t needed to be used yet, but is tested once a year to make sure it is in working order. Look at the graph that shows the height of the water in the terrible flood of 1953. Thousands of lives were lost when the sea came in and covered everything. That’s when they built the barriers. There are more than 15 of them. The one I saw was a small one. (New Orleans should have one of them) For dinner that night, Janny made stampot; It’s mashed up potatoes with endive, leeks, and bacon cubes. It’s usually served with chops or sausage. This is Andre’s favorite dish, and his own recipe is on his web site. I have a video of him making it on a TV cooking show. Try it, it’s yummy.
 

Wednesday, we went to the Green Village, near Doorn. (I think) All the quaint old houses are painted a dark green and trimmed gaily in white, yellow and blue, with flowers around the door. Flowers abound in Holland. There are many windmills there of various kinds, mustard mills, paint mills, flour mills, you name it. The living quarters inside the mills are amazing. Tiny kitchens, and beds built into the walls. Every inch of space has a purpose. At this village they also make wooden shoes. I watched how it’s done. A video of it is with the pictures. The shoes are made of poplar, are waterproof, and the naturally insulated wood is quite warm. They even have an arch support. I bought a blue pair. Fitting is easy, you just make sure there’s a finger’s width between your foot and the back of the shoe. They’re surprisingly comfortable, and I wore mine my first day back at work. Needless to say, they drew some curious comments, and children were fascinated.
 

Thursday, I finally got to meet Monique. She, Thea, and Ineke came to spend the day and what a delightful time we had. We talked some about Missouri, and what each of them did, and of course a great deal about Andre. Monique brought each of us a little stuffed money with a name. My monkey is Duizel, which means dizzy, because I get “dizzy” when I see Andre. Thea’s is Dromer, because she’s always dreaming about Andre, Janny’s is Grapjes, or “funny,” because she’s always laughing. Ineke’s is Koppie, (smart) since she’s the “wise” one of the bunch and planned the fans’ picnic at Maastricht. Then there is Monique. Her monkey is Bengel. That means mischievous. Needless to say, the “Rieu Girls” had a blast. I gave them gifts I’d brought from America. That took some doing, because I didn‘t want to take something from America that was “made in China.” So I drove to a town in Oklahoma to the Indian Store where I used to live, and found Dreamcatchers to hang on the wall, hand made by Cherokee Indians. They each got Hillbilly Hair clips, made in the Ozarks, (tiny clothespins with a little bow) and a bag of salt water taffy. Chocolate they have, the best in the world, but taffy was new, and it didn’t last long. Of course they all went upstairs to see Janny’s quilt. We walked a few blocks to a little grocery to get a couple of things. Everyone was wearing a white Andre sweatshirt. (I’d taken one to Janny and Wim) That drew some questions from other customers. I think one man thought we were Andre‘s personal cheering section. It was fun and we had a good laugh. We had dinner in the garden, erwtensoep, a delicious thick pea soup with carrots, leeks and sausage in it. Afterwards we watched the German ZDF program of the first half of the July concert in Maastricht. It was a wonderful day, and they are all fantastic ladies.
 

Friday, it was off to Maastricht for two days. How exciting that was! The beautiful 2 hour drive through the Dutch countryside was full of anticipation and delight. We got there about noon, parked the car and walked through the park where the picnic had been held. Before reaching the Vrijtof, we went through Onze Lieve Vroubasilik, the oldest building in Maastricht, and later through St. Servaasbasilik, begun in the same time period on the site of an even older chapel from the Roman period. St. Servatius, the first Bishop in Limberg, was buried there in 384. It’s truly awesome to stand in such a venerable place. We went on to the Vrijtof square, a large open area with St. Servaas, St. Jans, and other ancient buildings framing it. What a fantastic place! 10,000 people sat there last July with the beautiful music of Andre Rieu resonating off these wonderful old structures. No wonder he loves it so. We had lunch at a sidewalk café, and I tried something I was sure I wouldn’t like. I’m not a beer drinker, in fact, there are few alcoholic drinks I do like, but I wanted to taste dark beer. I got a big surprise. It’s good! I like it! Next, we drove down the central thoroughfare beside the Maas River towards Andre’s house. It sits on a quiet street running parallel to the main one, and separated only by a median. He has a beautiful view of the Maas. As we approached, we were very surprised to see Andre, himself, and Marjorie, standing in the street watching construction (presumed to be a house they are building for Pierre and Susan) It’s just a couple of doors from Andre’s own house and directly in front of the castle. We turned onto his street, stopped, and Janny and I got out. Perhaps 30 feet away, Andre turned and looked at us, a little concerned. He wasn’t frowning, but he wasn’t pleased either. We did not approach him, or take pictures of him. I would never intrude in his private time with his family, and I respect Marjorie’s wish to remain un-photographed. I took one picture of the castle and we left them undisturbed. But I would have loved to have asked him what he did with the quilt.
 

We spent the night in a little hotel in Valkenberg called Op de Bond, about twelve miles or so from Maastricht. The hill it’s built on is shaped like an iron, or “bond.” It’s still called that. So the hotel's name is the Hotel on the Iron. A beautiful garden could be seen through the glassed in dining room, and occasionally we’d hear a “thunk” on the roof. It was walnuts, falling from an English walnut tree just outside. The food was abundant and excellent, and the hotel owner was a delightful lady. Janny and I played Scrabble later in the lounge. First in English, then in Dutch. Janny did much better in English than I did in Dutch, but we both cheated and helped each other. Back at the Vrijtof on Saturday, we boarded a tour bus and set off the see the sights of Maastricht. One was a huge surprise. A white brick house was pointed out to us as the house where Andre was born. It was later made into a ballet school. We had walked right past it on the way to the Vrijtof, without knowing what it was. Then we drove past Andre’s house to catch the boat for a tour up and down the Maas River. We didn’t see him, but he was there because all the lights were all on inside. Cruising up this beautiful blue river we saw a golden castle peeking through trees turning red and gold in the autumn sun. So many beautiful and fascinating things I saw on either side, too many to recount, but I won’t forget them.
 

Sunday, after another fabulous breakfast, we stopped in Valkenberg to get some souvenirs. I found a lovely little authentic Delft violin. (My only extravagance) Then we walked up a hill and went through a ruined castle. The battery on my camera died, so I bought a disposable one and took pictures. They didn’t turn out as well as my digital, but they‘re not bad. As we climbed the hill, to one side of the walkway were two graves with Hebrew writing on the markers. The dates were long gone. No one knows who is buried there, how they came to be there, or what they did. But surely they must have been people of note, or those large carved markers would not have been placed at the graves. I will always wonder. A castle, especially one in ruins, is a complex structure. There is nothing to guide you but your imagination as to what it looked like when standing. We passed a well, where several German climbers were rigged up and preparing to descend into it. I looked down in. It held no water, but was very deep. There was a beautiful view of the countryside from the top of the castle mount and we had a cup of coffee in yet another tidy little café there. Then we drove to the highest point in Holland, only 900 some feet above sea level, and the place where three countries touch borders. I stood at the marker with one foot in Germany, one in Holland, and my hands in Belgium. I can now say I’ve been in all three countries – well, sort of. For you dog lovers, we saw a matched pair of Malamutes (or Alaskan Huskies) there. Remarkable dogs, and so beautifully behaved I asked the man if I could take their picture. He smiled and said of course. I don’t know where he was from, but it wasn’t Alaska.
 

Last, we went to Margraten, a place of special interest to me. For those of you who don’t know, Margraten is the town where the Holland/American Memorial to soldiers who died liberating Holland from the Nazis is located. I cannot begin to tell you how touching and poignant it is to view this immaculate and incredibly beautiful place. The serenity is tangible. The quiet is audible. The peace is heartfelt. I couldn’t keep back the tears. My father was a doctor, and went through Africa and Italy serving under General Patton. He was serving in Holland as the war ended. He did not fight on the front lines, he was just behind them, caring for the wounded and dying. Some of them who didn’t make it, rest in this cemetery. This memorial and the land it is on was given to the United States. Of all the countries we, the English, Canadians, and Australians, fought for to liberate, Holland is the one who remembers with never failing gratitude. For this above all else, I will forever love and never forget Holland or her people.
 

Monday, (I think it was Monday) we visited Janny’s mother, and what a delightful little lady she is. I wrote her name down, but when I got home, I couldn’t find it. She’s in her 80’s, and as bright and cheerful as a little bird. We had tea and cookies and she gave me a start from her red shamrock plant. I was not happy when Customs took it, along with my tulip bulbs and a sausage I‘d bought at the cheese farm. Thankfully, they missed the crocus bulbs Thea gave me, and they have already been planted in my flower bed. Next spring when they come up, they will all have names, Thea, Ineke, Monique, and of course, Janny, my Dutch bouquet of flowers.

Tuesday, we packed my things, then drove to Den Haag to see the miniature city of Amsterdam. What a charming place it is, and fascinating to walk through. Everything moves – little boats, trains, planes, even people. It was windy, a little chilly, and quite crowed since it was a school holiday and lots of families came. Before leaving Den Haag, we stopped at a hotel that had formerly been a Catholic Girls School. Rose Kennedy had attended there. It was kind of a sad day knowing it was the last one we would spend together. Until now, I’ve not said anything about Wim, Janny’s husband. I saved him for the last. Wim is a wonderful gentleman. He’s not only the world’s best driver – took us everywhere we wanted to go, he’s also the world’s best cigarette roller – he rolls his own and tried to teach me. I didn’t get the hang of it. He translated things when Janny was busy and I enjoyed several very nice talks with him. He was a volunteer firefighter for 35 years and has a medal for his faithful service awarded him by Queen Biatrix. He’s funny, interesting, kind, a gracious host, and he has a great smile. Wim, you’re the best. Think of me every time you look at that little frog in the garden.
 

Wednesday: All week the weather was beautiful, the sun was shining, the skies were blue, and the temperature quite comfortable with just a sweatshirt. Very unusual for October, I was told. Wednesday, it rained. But I was given the nicest complement I’ve ever received. Janny said, “Petrus smiled all week, but today Holland is crying because you’re leaving.”

Thank you, Janny, for welcoming me into your home and for all the wonderful things you and Wim did for me. I’ve dreamed of coming to Holland since I was seven years old when my daddy came home and brought me a pair of wooden shoes and a painting of a little Dutch girl. You made that dream come true. Seeing Andre at home was a bonus I hadn‘t counted on. It was the vacation of a lifetime. And thank you to all my wonderful Dutch friends for giving me a little piece of Holland to bring home in my heart and keep forever. I love you all. I didn’t want to leave, but now I have two countries. Tot Ziens. I'll be back.

No, I'm not off that very high cloud yet, so if I rattle on and on about my trip just ignore me.

Sooner or later, I'll get back in the real world. Hope you enjoyed this little "tour" and wish you could all go and see this beautiful land of water and wonder for yourselves.

Love to all, Maggie