...and it is raining in Holland. Shocker, I know. It might rain in Venice this weekend, too. I guess I bring it with me.
I love the Dutch. The woman in the seat across from me just pulled a matching plate and mug out of her bag, followed by a knife, a tub of butter, and a sort of Dutch fruit croissant. She's started spreading the butter on the bread and drinking something out of the cup, although I didn't see her pour anything into it. I think she made coffee appear in it out of sheer Dutch will.
As per usual, this train is stuffed with terribly tall attractive people and adorable children. A little girl sitting across from me (the daughter of the magical mug lady) is eating my favorite kind of Dutch biscuit, Sultanas, and reading a magazine. I want to steal her and take her home, but I think her mother would hit me with her plate. And that's Dutch china, that's no laughing matter.
So, the agenda for the day. I took the train from Heemstede to Amsterdam this morning, and am now on the train from Amsterdam to Eindhoven. I'll get the bus at Eindhoven station to Eindhoven airport, then a plane from Eindhoven to Milan Bergamo. A bus from the airport to Bergamo station, then a train to Brescia. Train from Brescia to Venice. Meet Rachel there.
Sounds simple enough. What could go wrong?
Gulp.
Tot straks!
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