Holland in Spring: Keukenhof

Imagine winter – winter when the sun doesn't rise until almost 9 am and goes down before 4:30 pm. When during the hours of sunlight, there are mostly clouds and rain. The wind blows the rain at you at a right angle to your body so that the only protection you have is Gore-Tex. Imagine after the lights and brightness of Christmas January, all the green is gone, dreary, rainy, bone chilling wet cold going into February. There is no white snow to brighten up the gloominess. Winter seems never to end.

And then...

In February, the first crocuses pop their heads up, then the daffodils, and then at the end of March, you have .....

Keukenhof.

Keukenhof is a 50-minute bus ride from our house. It opens the middle of March (this year, March 19) and closes the middle of May (May 21.) Public transport is the best way to get there especially on weekends since it is packed. 900,000 visitors will attend over the period it is open.

Keukenhof means “kitchen garden.” The area was part of the estate that was used for hunting and also for gathering herbs for the kitchen at the castle, thus its name. It was designed in 1857 as English-style gardens around the castle Keukenhof. In 1949, bulb growers developed the idea of an exhibition here as a showpiece for the bulb trade. 2008 is the 59th exhibition.

Over 6 million bulbs are planted in the 69-acre park. Every year the plantings are different so going back next year means that I have to take more pictures! This year’s theme is “China-Beijing” in honor of the Olympics, which is why there is a dragon, laid out in flowers. You can go three different times during the exhibition, beginning, middle and end and see a different display each time because of the way the bulbs and trees bloom. The flower shows inside the pavilions also change weekly.

Over 90 different growers have displays throughout the park. You can also purchase bulbs there and have them sent to you at the right time to plant for your own spring show. There are four pavilions with food and flower displays. The Beatrix Pavilion had wonderful orchids in them. I didn't know that orchids could be so varied in size, shape and color.

Sculptures display their work throughout the park as a complement to the flower displays. Some of the pictures show the sculpture that I found, some modernistic, some classical. Flowing and still water is worked throughout. Benches are scattered for sitting, resting and contemplating the beauty. I saw swans, ducks and a white peacock (I think.) I don’t remember hearing any songbirds. I saw bees pollinating the flowers but no other insects.

I (Mary Ann) decided to go up by myself on a Friday, April 25, to make sure that I would get there. So many things were happening the next couple weekends that I wasn’t sure Terry and I could get away. I didn’t know if the girls would be as interested walking among the flowerbeds as he and I were. I had signed up to go on a trip with the ASH PTA to Volendam on the 25th but that fell through because of low registration. Waking up that morning and seeing a lovely day ahead, I thought, “Today is the day!”

I took our local #18 bus down to Den Haag Centraal Station to buy the ticket and caught the 9:10 am bus. The Connexxion bus system sells a combination bus/entrance ticket for a very good value. The ticket is 19 euros. The park entrance fee is 13 euro 50 so that means the round trip bus ride was only 5euro50. I was at the park by 10 am. I walked less then 10 minutes to the entrance.

The park opens at 8 am so 10 am is still early. The day was slightly overcast. The sun came out later. There was no rain that day. Upon entering the park, the gorgeous displays of flowers took my breath away. I just wanted to look and look and look and take picture after picture. Fortunately, I had my trusty digital camera with an extra set of batteries. I took 213 pictures. Normally, I don't take that many. JA takes that many pictures. Though, I admit, when she is taking pictures, I don't take as many because she takes better ones and has a wonderful eye. I put up only 140 for your viewing on our Picassa album website.

I walked around for 4 hours. There were enough pathways to go even longer. I’m sure I missed something. I would approach the same patch of flowers from different angles and see it as a new place. There was an old windmill on the premises. I ate lunch of a pizza slice and water (It’s still funny to hear asked “gas or no gas.” Fizzy/carbonated water is big here.)

At first, I didn’t notice that the flowers had little signs with their names on them. I started noticing after hearing someone say, “This tulip’s name is Donald Duck” and it was. I found Pinocchio and Teletubby. Some names were ordinary, some exotic.

At 10 am, the park was lightly attended. I could easily walk around without running into any crowds. By Noon, traffic had picked up especially around the eating locales. Mostly seasoned citizens were out and about. I saw a few middle school groups with backpacks and papers and wondered if they were on a field trip. Dutch and English were the prevalent languages. I heard some French and German. I even saw a group of Japanese tourists being led by a guide who was holding up a pendant sign for them to follow! Their cameras were at rest.

I never saw so many different kinds of cameras taking pictures. The website says that Keukenhof is among the three most photographed places in the world. Mostly digital cameras were in use. A few serious cameras with large bodies and long lenses were in use. People knelt down to get just the right angle. Some got as close as they could to a flower to get the detail. Dogs on leashes are allowed in and various sizes were pulled along by their masters who were very alert to pick up after their pets. The place is just as great for people watching as for flower watching.

The park has 2 or 3 climbing playgrounds for children to use near grassy areas. Picnic lunches can be brought in. Toilets are abundant and pay – as in many places in Europe. It’s not so bad paying 40 cents for the use of the toilet when I know that it will be clean, tidy and well stocked.

By 2 pm I was ready to go home. I walked my 10 minutes and rested at the bus stop. Return buses come every half hour so I wanted to make sure I was there for 2:30. The bus route runs down near my house so I was able to get off a short walk away instead of going down to Centraal Station and take bus 18 back.

I hope to go back again this season either with friends or someone from the family. It’s likely to be a weekend. Unfortunately, the #89 bus does not go up there on weekends. On a weekend, we would either have to drive or go to Leiden to pick up a bus. If we drive, we’ll need to get up there early in the day for parking. We also could take a train to Leiden and then take the Connexxion bus from there to Keukenhof – and that bus stops right at the front gate!

Since there is no way I can do justice to the flowers, I direct you to the link to the pictures online. First come the gardens and trees from various angles. Pictures of the orchids are towards the end. I only captioned a few pictures since the gardens speak for themselves. Click away on the photos and enjoy the best of springtime in Holland.

Pictures can be found here: http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/madmochowski/08AprKeukenhof

For more information about Keukenhof from its website, click here http://www.keukenhof.nl/nm/english.html.

Enjoy.

In Honor of Earth Day: Chocolate Chip Cookies

In honor of Earth Day, all students who biked to ASH would be given a store-bought chocolate cookie when they arrived at school. If they walked and came in through the bike shed, they would get a cookie too. The students, like JA and ER, who took the school bus would not get one. We had discussions about fairness the night before.

So, I did my own "in honor of Earth Day" and baked chocolate chip cookies for the first time in my Dutch kitchen. We brought back a COSTCO size bag of Nestle's chocolate chips after Easter break. I have cooked main dishes in the oven but was scared about baking.

Our combo oven/microwave comfortably fits a 13 x 9 pan. A Perdue roaster may just fit in the oven. What is neat is that the cookie sheet can slide right into the indentations on the side (see the black tray in the picture with the cookies on it.)

Baking is done with butter. Brown sugar is moist but grainy like granulated sugar although the grains are bigger. It packs down nicely in the cup. (I did bring my English measuring cups along.) Baking powder comes in little envelopes. I had also brought back bottled pure vanilla extract for flavoring. The Dutch use vanilla-flavored sugar which doesn't have the same effect. Flour is softer, like cake flour, so I needed to add an additional 2 tbsp. of flour per cup for the same consistency.

I did a test cookie for the first time in a long time. Years ago, I had a 4" x 6" aluminum cookie sheet from a play kitchen set that we would use for a test cookie. With experience, I stopped baking a single cookie to see what it would do since I trusted my analysis of the texture and thickness of the cookie dough. Having no experience with these ingredients and this oven, I didn't want to take the chance of a whole batch of cookies needing more flour.

I am pleased to say that the experiment was a grand success. The girls came home from school happy to find homemade cookies instead of store bought ones. They were able to enjoy there fill and there were still some for Terry when he had his tea at night. I do need to find cooling racks since I didn't bring any.

Good news is that our Honda was finally towed about 10:30 pm on Monday night by a bungy cord attached to a van. The car is being fixed and I will pick it up at 5 pm Wednesday. Just in time for ER's big brass recital Thursday night. Now, the kick stand on my bike doesn't stay up. It's tied to the frame with a long twistie, like what is used to tie up a trash bag. I can still get around. When I park the bike I need to put it in a bike rack or lean it against something since it cannot free stand. Fortunately, there's a bike repair shop just down the street from us. That's a task for another day.

JA is of to Istanbul, Turkey today for an ISTA (International Schools Theatre Association) High School Festival where she will take some Master Classes and do some ensemble work. She is really excited about going. Like Morocco, she needs to use bottled water for everything including brushing her teeth. She'll be back Sunday, we hope with lots of pictures and stories.

Terry is heading out tomorrow for a last minute business trip to Paris, just an overnight. He hoped to say "hello" to his sister and her family but their schedule didn't permit it. Maybe next time.

I hope you are all able to get out and enjoy the beautiful world that God has created. If I remember right, the azaleas should be out. Here we have tulips and trees budding. We miss squirrels. Have not seen any in Clingendael Park. We do have cows, sheep and lots of silly ducks and noisy geese.

Morocco Bound - Day 2: Rabat

Note: Comments in (bold) by ER
Pictures have been posted on the left side bar of the blog - or you can click onto this link:
http://picasaweb.google.co.uk/madmochowski/08Feb27RabatMorocco


Morning at 7 a.m. came all too quickly. The beds were comfortable so the sleeping was good. ER had to pack up her suitcase since she would be leaving from the hotel directly to her host family after our touring.

Looking out the window, the sun had just come up. Traffic was light. The city had not yet waken up . We dressed and went down for breakfast.

The Hilton spread a beautiful buffet breakfast with local cuisine and European fare. Fresh fruit, yogurt, tomato and salad. Small French pastries to die for, hearty local breads. Already made scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon (with a pork advisory), potatoes, rice. Pre-made pancakes to warm up with toppings. Omelets made to order with fillers of onion, tomato, cheese and mushroom. Juice, water, tea and coffee were beverages from which to select. A good start for the day. All for 200 dirham a person. Remember that the easy conversion for dirhams to euros is 11 dirhams: 1 euro. Conversion to the dollar was about 7.5 dirhams: 1 US Dollar. We ate on the open veranda. The morning was sunny and cool.

Students and parents gathered in the lobby beginning about 8:45 a.m. Getting out at 9 am was important since the students needed to be at the Rabat American School (RAS) at 3:30 pm. There were a couple stragglers but for the most part we were in the bus ready to go at 9:15. Melissa had mapped out several important stops in the city.

Again, Mark's fluency in French became very handy. He rode shot gun to ease communication with the driver. Our bus just fit the 15 of us plus driver. We first headed down to the Ibis Hotel to pick up Jim, the band director. We were in the midst of rush hour traffic. It was hard to figure out the traffic rules. There were few stop lights. Sometimes it seemed that whoever had the most courage entered the intersection first. The Ibis is next to the train station, a busy part of town. Jim was waiting for us outside the hotel. When we saw the craziness and heard the noise of the area, we were glad to be staying at the quietness of The Hilton.

Rabat is the political and administrative capital of Morocco. It's not a tourist destination like Fes or Marrakech. Its history goes back to the Romans. The downtown shopping area was bustling. Crafts and food preparation were done out in the open. We saw a 50/50 mix of women with uncovered heads/wearing head scarfs, and some were covered from head to toe. (The only people wearing shortsleeves were tourists.) We did not need a guide to get around Rabat. The main tourist areas are walkable. There are buses (always looked packed). There is a system of petite taxis that take up to 3 people around the city as well as grand taxis. They are all around the tourist sites. It's always best to negotiate the taxi fare before getting into the taxi and driving off.

In order to make sure we had enough bottled water that was reasonably priced, our driver stopped in front of a small store. Jim and Mark went out to shop and came back with several cases of small (½ liter) and large (2 liter) bottles of water. The small ones were passed out to each person. At the end of the trip, we divided the leftovers between us and used the large bottles to refill the small ones to have on the road.

Our first stop was The Oudaia Kasbah or the old walled city of Rabat. This formidable looking fortress was built in the 12-13th centuries and restored in the 17th-18th centuries. The fortress looked out over the ocean and protected the people from invaders and pirates. Our bus driver let us out for a walking tour. Armed with our trusty DK Travel Guide, we entered through the gate.

The first overwhelming impression was how tall (26-33 ft) and formidable (8 ft thick) the walls and bulwarks at each end. Any invader seeing those walls would be pretty intimidated. The walls are built of stone and are covered with a thick coating of ochre plaster. The color unifies the other walls found around Rabat. Behind the walls was a lovely city of many narrow streets. Blue and white were the common colors, blue like the Moroccan sky. Many of the houses go back to the late 17th and early 18th centuries.

We wandered our way through the narrow streets to the top of the ramparts. The view from there was magnificent! One look was to the ocean and another down to the beach coastline. The cemetery was outside the walls of the city. Cameras were pulled out and we couldn't take enough pictures. From our vantage point it was clear that raiders from the sea could not hide on clear days and could only approach under the cover of night. But even if they clear the beach, then there were sheer walls as obstacles to be breached.

We wandered back through the streets and found a lovely cafe, Cafe Maure. This lovely rest stop looked out to the Bou Rereg (river) and the Mediterranean. Across from us were boats and sailors. We rested at tables shaded by an overhead roofs and snacked on a coke and Moroccan cookies. We had a joke to drink a Coke a day to help with the digestion and to kill any germs that we may end up eating. Two of our female flight attendants walked through the cafe as we were resting. The men noticed and greeted them.

Through a doorway we went to the Andalusian Gardens. We roamed through the maze of walkways and saw a traditional Arabic noria (waterwheel used for irrigation.) Near the gardens was a museum of traditional Moroccan folk art and crafts. The museum is housed in a small palace. There were examples of colorful carpets, and intricate and fascinating copper work, ceramics, and musical instruments. Each room is laid out as a traditional Moroccan interior and another dedicated to costumes. Jewelry from different ages and regions was intricate and beautiful.

ER began to notice the “Cats of Morocco” which became the main subject of her photography for the day. They were a lovely addition to her “Cats of Malta” collection.

We exited the city below the gates we entered. We walked up to the top and had a sense of how high the hill was. The kids enjoyed running around the palm trees and taking pictures of each other as we waited for our driver. Ho-Young read to us from information he had printed off about the fortress – the print out was in Korean and he was translating into English, (ER: but first he read in Korean.)

Our next stop was the Mausoleum of Mohammed V and the Hassan Tower.

Morocco has a long history, For centuries it had been an independent country. However due to a weak rule in the early 20th century, Morocco was divided into Spanish and French Protectorates with Tangier an international free city. With World War II, Morocco desired to be free again. A power struggle with France ensued after the war. After intervention by the United Nations, the French Protectorate ended in 1956 and in 1958 Tangier and the Spanish enclave of Tarfaya were restored. Mohammed V, previously the sultan, now became King of Morocco and is considered to be the father of independence.

At the gate of the complex sit soldiers in ceremonial garb atop horses. The horses were amazing. They stayed very still in the increasingly hot sun. ER noticed that one of them was foaming at the mouth, very thirsty. (Jon and I still think that it was weird that we ONLY took pictures with the 'rabid' one.) And that was the horse next to the students in the picture!

Upon entering the complex, we first saw the Hassan Tower, the unfinished minaret of the Hassan Mosque built about 1196. The size of the minaret was out of proportion to the population of the time. It would have been the largest mosque built in its time. The mosque fell into disrepair at the beginning of the 13th century, and all but the minaret was destroyed in the earthquake of 1755. Stone columns of various heights are in the courtyard and gave a sense of how large and grand the mosque was. For modern day history, Mohammed V conducted the first Friday prayers after independence was declared from the Hassan Tower.

On the other side of the square is the Mausoleum of Mohammed V. It is considered a special place. Respect should be given to it by dress and attitude. Hassan II, Mohammed's son, is also buried here. Guards are in each corner. The mausoleum is on a high point and has a great view.

The travelers were flagging by now. Sustenance was needed. The dilemma was “where was safe enough to eat?” An international franchise answered the question: Pizza Hut! Known food that everyone would eat. The prices were good. We ordered several large pizzas that were shared and sodas all around.

Refreshed we headed out to the site of Chellah Necropolis which ended up to be the high point of the day. We found full of Roman and Islamic ruins. It was built in 1284 by Abou Yacoub Youssef as a mosque and burial place for his wife. He was buried here also as were subsequent rulers. The walls around were raised in the 14th century from an original Roman town and Roman ruins can also be seen. We entered through a gate. The earthquake of 1755 also badly damaged this site.

The most fascinating thing about this place was the many stork nests that were built in the trees and in the minaret. We watched the colonies in their nests and flying. We heard them talking to each other. ER found cats too and a cat lady who was taking care of them.

Touring done, we headed back to the hotel. The students loaded their instruments and luggage into the bus to go to RAS. A few parents including Terry and Mary Ann went with them.

The school is hidden behind a high wall. Once entering the gate, the buildings were lovely white with gardens around. The students went into the hall. Chairs and music stands were on risers. Each stand had the name of the musician. A banner designated each school participating in the festival. Jim passed out name tags and information to his students. Included was a package of tickets that would serve like monopoly money for the meals that they would eat at the school. We saw students from Lagos and Munich that we met at the airport the day before.

Names were called to match ASH students with their host families. The students were dispatched so quickly to their host family that we didn't have a chance to say good bye to ER. Jim stayed behind at the school and the three parents returned to The Hilton.

With the students happily ensconced with their host families, the parents decided on dinner. The hotel had three restaurants: a general menu, Italian theme, and Moroccan theme. We went to the Moroccan theme. Music was played on traditional instruments. The belly dancer would be coming out about 9 pm. We ordered a selection of Moroccan salads and Lebanese cuisine. Twelve different dishes plus bread came. We found the salads of fresh vegetables and lamb dishes a lovely introduction into the cuisine. Including sheep's brains. MaryAnn and Terry may have been the only ones brave enough to try one. How did it taste? A little like chicken liver. We shared a bottle of wine and bottled water. Sharing the appetizers satisfied without ordering any main dishes.

Our group was the first ones in the restaurant. By the time came for the belly dancer, three other tables filled. The music changed and she came out shimmying around. At a table up front was an appreciative man who placed a 100 dirham bill in her belt. She then came shimmying up to the other tables especially around Mark and Terry. When her time was over, she put the one bill she had in a jar next to the musicians and then left in a huff. The guys realized that she was working the room looking for tips. She was disappointed that there were not more.

The day ended earlier then the night before. Next day we would split. Mark and Joanne would go their way, with Dana, Melissa, Terry and MaryAnn to explore Fes.

Morocco Bound: Day 1 Traveling

After weeks of hard practice at school and home, weeks of worry by accompanying parents wondering it they had made the right decision to allow their middle school student to go, Tuesday, 26 February arrived (raining as usual for the winter.) ASH arranged for a bus to take the travelers from the school to Schiphol Airport (Amsterdam). Mary Ann brought the suitcases up earlier in the morning and left them in the music director’s office along with the others. Terry and Mary Ann took the 11.30 bus up so as to leave our car at home.

When we arrived at school, we found the musicians in the band director's office raring to go. Soon the rest of the parents arrived. We dragged the suitcases out to the bus and loaded them in. Jim, the band director, had to teach a class until 1 pm – we couldn't leave without him. While waiting, we did the usual, “Who needs to use the WC (water closet = toilet)?” “Who wants water?” “Do you need a quart bag for your carry on liquids?” “Do you have your passport?” “Do you have your instrument?” ER realized that she had her blue juice (trumpet lubricant) in her trumpet case. Fortunately, it was less then 3 ounces. It went in a zip lock bag. Finally, Jim arrived and off we went.

This trip was the first time ER did not go by train and bus to Schiphol. The bus dropped us off at the Euro terminal with instruments and baggage. We were allowed one bag to check, max. 20 kg, and one carry on. All the instruments needed to be carry ons. Flute, clarinet and trumpet weren't bad. The trombone and tenor sax were longer cases. We entered the building (Terry called us the “Den Haag Clump”) and went to the ticket counter. Mark, one of the parents, had printed out our tickets with boarding passes and so all we had to do was check in our bags. But 15 people checking in all at one time was enough to test any airline, Air France included. We checked in without a hitch then off to the gate. By the time we were all done there really was not much time to wander around. We did not have to go through passport control since we were traveling to another EU country, Charles DeGaulle Airport, Paris; this made things much easier. After going through security (“take off your belt please”, “do you have a computer?”), we clumped away and found our gate.

The seats in the plane (an Airbus 318, with 123 passenger capacity making it a little bit bigger than a Boeing 737) were a little narrow. All the instruments managed to fit in the overhead luggage bins (yay!) Mary Ann took the middle of three and ended up pushing one arm to the left to fit in. Fortunately, Terry was to one side of her and the other dad (Mark) to the left.
(ER Comment: I was left to sit next to a random woman and Mr. Yarnell.) The plane taxied a distance before we took off through the gloom of the Dutch skies. The flight was uneventful.

The flight to Paris was around 45 minutes, meaning that there was very little time for the air crew to break out the snack cart before the descent to Charles DeGaulle. All during the flight we were up above the endless clouds in the sun, but landing in Paris we had to go through some of the murkiest weather (good thing planes have radar!) Since our bags were checked through to Rabat, we had only our carry-on baggage to worry about.

For the unknowing, Charles DeGaulle airport is a huge airport with at least 5 major terminals. The flight from Amsterdam arrived at Terminal 2F and our Rabat flight was leaving from Terminal 2E. After getting off the plane, we committed our terminal and gate number to memory and began walking. At times the “Den Haag Clump” stretched out quite a bit and parents took turns taking up the rear to make sure that the kids kept up. We boarded an electric tram car that took us to terminal 2E. Then we walked, and walked and walked and walked with parents again taking up the rear to make sure we did not lose anyone. Head counts were frequently taken. We went through passport control, and then walked and walked to security. Those going to African or Middle Eastern countries veered left. After security, we walked some more.

Finally at our gate, we met up with a group of students from the American International School Lagos, Nigeria. It was easier for them to fly from Lagos to Paris to Rabat then to go puddle jumping through western Africa (now that’s a trip that can try any parent’s or band director's patience!). They had arrived early in the morning and had an 18 hour layover in Paris. They spent the day walking around Paris. (ER Comment: One kid from Lagos was carrying a video camera with him and insisted on videoing himself meeting every kid in the group. He was a trumpet player. Figures.) It was very clear that Jim and their band director had crossed paths many times before. Very soon the group from the Frankfort International School (all girls) showed up. The teachers introduced the musicians to each other by instrument.

The plane flight from Paris to Rabat is 3 hours. Rabat is also an hour behind France/Netherlands. After a steep ascent out of Charles DeGaulle (the captain later told us it was due to the severe wind conditions), we were served dinner on the flight. About an hour or so into the flight we encountered some new turbulence and bounced around some more. This was because we were going south and an west-east wind was hitting us sideways forcing the captain to take some maneuvers to keep us straight south. We passed over Madrid, Spain and soon left Europe behind. We landed in Rabat about 8:15 pm (Rabat time).

The Rabat airport terminal is not big. A staircase was rolled out to the door for us to deplane. ER said it reminded her of landing in Malta. As it turns out there are only two flights out and two flights in per day. The night air was much warmer than Amsterdam, and it was very quiet. We walked across the tarmac to the building. We filled out the entry hall, and starting filling out the usual forms giving personal information, where we were staying and for how long. There were three customs kiosks: one for citizens, one for non-citizens, and a third for VIPs. We got into our line and stayed in it, even though the VIP line was considerably shorter.

Soon we presented our passport and landing form to a rather stern looking gentleman. He was not wearing a uniform so he could have been the airport manager. Some customs officials acted more thorough then others. Ours happened to be bit more cautious. He scrutinized the passports, glanced up and looked at us, returned to the passports, looked at us again. It seemed as if he looked at every stamp in the book. He wrote down or entered data in a computer. He stamped several times (the sound like a “WHUMP”), then handed back each passport with a well worn laminated card inside. We were then stopped by a security officer who kept the laminated card after examining the stamp just made in our passport. If the stamp did not meet his criteria, he took the passport back to the respective customs official (and said a few words in Arabic) for adjustment. The Smith family stamps were fine. After passing through some doors we stumbled out into the airport lobby and gathered our Clump. Later we found out at the hotel that each passport had been stamped with a unique visa number. The guard’s job was to check that the number we received was readable.

Surprisingly, our bags came out without much waiting and to our collective relief. Joanne (Mark’s wife) arranged through our travel agency for a bus to transport us. Mark quickly realized that there was no driver with a sign for us. Mark whipped out his all-purpose cell phone and proceeded to make a few calls to find out what was going on. While he negotiated or cajoled the travel agent, we waited and lined up to the money exchange office to exchange Euros to Moroccan dirham at the rate of approx. 11.1 dirham to 1 euro. Guess the exchange office had not seen that much business all day. All the while Mark was on the phone tracking down our driver. As it turned out our driver was at the Casablanca airport. Some finger pointing ensued: the driver said it was our fault; but the truth was that it was his fault. Our money exchanged, and with the airport closing down after its last flight for the day, the Den Haag Clump rolled our luggage out into the parking lot and the Moroccan night.

We had gone from 30 degree F weather to 50 degree. The sun had set. Soft street lights illuminated the parking lot. Cab drivers were standing around waiting for fares and wondering if this large group would come their way. The air was muggy. Palm trees were abundant. Mark's fluency in French came to the rescue again. The bus driver from RAS had shown up to pick up the students and teachers going to the Ibis Hotel. The driver thought that he could also fit the 14 of us plus baggage into his bus. When we saw the bus, we didn't think so. He tried. To help us, he offered to take the first group to the Ibis and then come back for us. (ER Comment: Mr. Yarnell ended up abandoning us for the bus full of girls to head to his hotel.)

We waited in the parking lot. We'd probably been in Morocco for more then an hour by now. Then unexpectedly, Mark said our bus was here. The company sent another bus. We loaded luggage and bodies and started off. The ride to the Hilton was wild and fast through the traffic and the streets. Terry remarked later that it was sort of like a Disneyland ride. At one crucial intersection, a vehicle was blocking the road with some sort of engine trouble. Our driver went to the left around it heading into the other lane. Dana turned around and said in a soft Texan drawl, “Children, I think you should put your seat belts on.” Those who had working seat belts did.
We arrived at the Rabat Hilton in one piece.

Each individual, adult and child, had to fill out a room registration paper. That's when we found the visa number in our passport. The concierge, Jalil, who had worked with Melissa by email, came over and warmly introduced himself. He brought out a round of Moroccan tea (hot, sweet and minty) for all and Moroccan cookies as welcome. We were all ready for bed.

As it turned out, we all were on the same floor. Our room was 429. It was large with a King-size bed and a single bed on the side for ER. A large TV with a mini-bar was in the center of the room. A sliding door led to a balcony that looked over the front of the hotel. There in full view was the bottled water for us to brush teeth. It was after midnight. We soon fell fast asleep. Mary Ann set the alarm for 7 am. Our tour bus was scheduled to take off at 9 am.

Morocco Bound - Overview (finally!)

Finally starting the posts on our Morocco trip. And there will be more pictures coming this time too!.

Morocco is a country in the northwest corner of Africa. Two oceans form the coasts – the Mediterranean in the north and the Atlantic on the west. You can take make a day's ferry trip from Spain to Tangier. The capital of Morocco is Rabat. Casablanca is well known from the movie of the same name. The touristy cities are Fes and Marrakech.

Terry, ER and I were in Rabat because ER made the European Middle School Honor Band. The international schools that belong to the Association for Music in International Schools (AMIS, pronounced A-mee) take turns hosting the various festivals. This year, The American School of Rabat (RAS) offered to host it.

The process starts in Fall when the audition pieces are distributed. ER got her copy in September. She worked on it with her private lesson teacher for several weeks. She made a recording of it mid-October to send in for the audition. The results were posted on October 30 – she had a trumpet lesson that day. Her teacher sent her down to the band teacher's office to find out if she had made it – she had! And her trumpet buddy, Jon, also made it. 7 students from ASH, all 8th graders but one, made the band: 2 trumpets (ER and Jon), one flute (Anicka), two B-flat clarinets (Nicole and Ho-Young), one tenor sax (James), and trombone (Lars – the only 7th grader; he was only slightly taller than his instrument). Another B-flat clarinet and oboe were alternates – although the alternates practiced with the rest, no spot opened up for them. Starting in January 2008 they practiced weekly together and also worked on the music during their private lessons.

Several parents had expressed an interest in going along. One parent was volunteered to coordinate the flights and the hotel. The students and teacher, Jim, would travel on Tuesday, 26 February and parents could come along. The flute's parents (Rochelle & Ron) taught at the school so they booked a flight the Friday to arrive the day before the concert. Brian, the tenor sax's dad, was already at his new assignment in Calgary, Alberta (that's Canada) and thought he would have business to attend to that weekend so made arrangements to fly in to Amsterdam and then to Rabat. The parents who would be flying with the musicians were Melissa (Jon's mom), Dana (James's mom), Joanne & Mark (Nicole's parents) and Terry & Mary Ann (ER's parents, of course.)

We wanted to stay at a reliable hotel so decided to stay at The Hilton in Rabat. The AMIS website also led us to believe that it was a 10 minute walk. Since the students would need to stay with us that Tuesday night, the hotel could put an extra bed in the room and they would be included for no extra charge. So we booked and went with it.

When we checked at the KLM Travel Clinic about what shots we would need, the only immunization they recommended for us was Hepatitis A. Since we were in a major metropolitan area and would be in the country a short period of time this would be all we needed. What surprised us was finding out that U.S. Citizens do not require a visa to visit Morocco. All we needed was our passports and our Dutch residency cards to make sure we could get back in to the country.

Melissa arranged the touring arrangements. We decided to do Rabat on Wednesday with the kids, Fes on Thursday, Casablanca on Friday and then go back down to the Medina (shopping area) in Rabat on Saturday morning. Since it's not wise to wander around Casablanca and Fes without a guide, Melissa contacted the concierge at the Hilton who gladly arranged transportation for us and the appropriate guides.

In preparation, we studied the numerous sites on the Internet including a very informative site put together by 7th graders of RAS. We also relied on DK's guide to Morocco (highly recommended and there is a whole series of books for other countries). We did not find anyone at ASH who had been there before who could share from their experience. The more we read about Morocco, the more apprehensive we became. The tap water was not drinkable so we would have to brush our teeth with bottled water, be careful on the fresh fruits and vegetables we ate, no ice in drinks, and make sure that the bottled water was open in front of us. Concerns about beggars in the streets approaching the kids were addressed – little problem in Rabat. We found later that this was not a problem in the other cities probably because it was not tourist season which usually starts in April. Language was an issue since they speak French and Arabic which meant that Terry was going to have to dig out his French from the recesses of his memory. We had made a commitment and decided we would make the best of it.

We made arrangements for JA to stay with her best friend during the week and then with another family on the weekend. Mary Ann found coverage for my 7th grade religious ed class. Terry caught up what he needed to at work. If anyone wondered what was happening to ZoeyCat, she had her own adventure. Being looked after by our our landlords, she guarded the upstairs and the downstairs. Here's a picture of her at work:



When the morning of Feb 26 came, we took our suitcases up to the school and made ready for our journey.

The Best Milk Carton in the World

The title of this post is probably presumptious. This is certainly the best milk carton that I've used.

The carton comes from Albert Heijn which is the Netherlands' sister to Giant Foods in the D.C. area. Both are owned by Ahold.

It holds 1-1/2 liters of milk. You can see on the sides that there are cut outs to view exactly how much milk there is left in the carton. But the best part is the little blue tab up on top where the spout is made to pour the milk. The blue tab is pulled in order to make the spout. No clawing at the end of a carton to rip it open. Definitely an improvement over cartons I've used in the States.

This silly post was inspired by a little thing that goes right. The clutch in our car did not work this morning. It felt soft yesterday and fortunately got us home from ASH. This morning it was parked out in front of the house. It had to be pushed back into the driveway to be out of the way. The street sloped just enough to make it not too hard. My next task is to join ANWB, the Netherlands' AAA, to have it towed after I figure out where to tow it and when it will be done. Just another little adventure.