Fondest memory: Fondest memory is an easy one. It was meeting VT member Sandra (sandravdp), her friend Isabel and Sandra's dad Leo (lvdpiet), another VT'er. Sandra and Isabel met up with me at the train station and we headed off to the restaurant for dinner. Poor Sandra had her bike and had to ride it in the rain while Isabel and I took the nice dry bus. We had a wonderful dinner and then headed to a pub to find Leo. It was a great evening and I really enjoyed meeting all of them :)
Wander the outskirts of the immediate center for lovely photos of canals and charming homes.
Fondest memory: Running a bit ragged after a four-day run that brought me through an equal number of beery cities, I was trying to stay awake and keep fellow VTer Jacob good company on the ride from his home to Haarlem. He had been too generous in offering to drive me there even though we had been up very late the night before and he had to work the graveyard shift that night. But he insisted and it did make things easy, not to mention more enjoyable. We drove through typical Dutch weather and arrived in blustery Haarlem pretty much right on schedule. Another VT member, Sandra, was waiting patiently at the train station for us. We secured a room for me quickly and went for a coffee (for them) and a beer (for me) and a brief walk about so Jacob could see things before departing. Sandra and I then went to meet her good friend, Isabelle, and we were off for some dinner that although pricey, was one of the best of my two-month trip. In fact, between the relatively expensive room and the splurge meal, it would turn out to be the most costly day of the trip. And that was before the pub-crawl. I had quite a list of specialist beer bars I wanted to visit and though the girls were not too thrilled with some of my choices, they were good sports and went to quite a few of them. One in particular they were more than pleasantly surprised by. They had never been there before and here it was right in their hometown. After numerous beers, we started to get silly. After explaining to Isabelle, our personal “in joke” about spanking, which we termed “da spanky,” I found myself being spanked right in the bar by the two girls, much to the amusement of the other customers. It was time for the girls to head home as both were working in the morning, and I had another day on “the tour.” Antwerp was looming and for the first time of the drinking tour, I had gotten my “butt whupped.”