The Phantom Toller: Go Team!

Now for the long awaited missing entry:

One of the highlights of this trip was having Shani Danzig from Vancouver come out and join me for part of the journey.

It deserves blogging, but at the same time, some travel just doesn't lend itself to narrative. Lets consider this entry to be more of a collage.

First off, we mostly figured out our travel on an as-we-go basis, but it this had been a planned tour that came with an official itinerary, this is what it the itinerary might have looked like:

Jon and Shani Rock the European Continent:

Aug 19: Shani arrives BRU
Aug 19-20: Settle into Mechelen, sleep at Eddy's
Aug 20: Netherlands for concert in Rhenen, via Dordrecht and Utrecht, sleep at Boudewijn's
Aug 21: Belgium for concert in Gent, sleep at Nik and Nancy's
Aug 22-25: Homey living in Mechelen, sleep at Eddy's
Aug 26: Practice time in Bolsward pre-competition, sleep in Enkhuizen B&B
Aug 27: Amsterdam sightseeing and practice time, sleep in Leeuwarden
Aug 28: Return to Bolsward for contest, sleep in Mechelen
Aug 29-Sept 1: R&R and celebration in France, sleep at B&Bs in Sangatte and Escalles
Sept 1: - Shani Departs from BRU

Highlights:
-In Utrecht suburbs, visiting the world's first glass carillon with Boudewijn Zwart

-In Rhenen, standing in a tall and practically fully open tower in a city so small, all you see is farmland

-In Gent, a music festival on a private suburban mansion estate

-Riding the ferry across the main inlet of the Netherlands into Enkhuizen, the Dutch version of coastal Maine

-In Amsterdam, showing up at carillons and getting the backdoor VIP access to some of the best and least accessible views in the city.

-In France, everything :)

-Riding the trains

-Biking Mechelen

-Driving the countryside

-Shani :)

Two Short Stories:

1. Here's one you won't learn in the Dutch phrasebook:

After a great concert in Gent, we hit the bar with the carillon foundation and Nik and Nancy, two Americans working in the film animated film business that I had met 2 years ago when I last played Gent and who had given me the grand backdoor tour of the city.

Needless to say, they came through once again, giving us their bed, taking us from the concert to their private courtyard for wine, to dinner on the market, to a special music festival held on a private estate in the suburbs, to the most wonderful coffeehouse in all of Belgium, lit only by candle-light and tucked away where no tourists could find it. Shani and I were, well, speechless. The only problem was we just couldn't keep up with them... these party animals at least one generation our senior were running us ragged! By the end of the night, we were sitting in the previously mentioned cafe, drinking a complementary cherry liquor home-made by the owner, stirring our hot-chocolates, and lost in a sleepy daze.

But at one point we both looked up. And looked at each other. The owner was waxing poetic about her cherry cordial to one of the guests. Neither of us heard her full sentence, but it seemed to contain the words “little angel” and “pee-pee all over”. Neither of us wanted to acknowledge what we had just heard. She seemed so genuinely happy about the image. It became a running joke between us. “This burger is so delicious! Its like a little angel is peeing all over me!” “This beer! Its like an angel pissing in my mouth!”

A week later we were sitting in Mechelen with Eddy and the topic came up. And we started telling the story about our hillarious mis-hear. “She said something very strange about a little angel". And Eddy said, “that it pees on her tongue?” Shani and I were shocked. “How did you know?” “Well yes. that's a Flemish expression – het is zoals een angeltje dat op mijn tongue pist. Because you see, everything from angels is good.”

The logic still seems a little lacking.

2. Wij Hebben Een Reservatie

After some practice in Bolsward, a ferry ride to Enkhuizen, a day of Amsterdam sightseeing, and a night in Leeuwarden, it was time to switch from public to private transport. We had arranged for a one-way rental from Leeuwarden to Brussels, so we could drive to the contest, and then drive on from the contest into France for some (hopefully) celebratory R&R before sending Shani back to Canada.

We showed up at the car rental place at 9:20am. We figured that would give us enough time to pick up the car, get breakfast, and get to the contest in a relaxed time-frame. Which was correct, except for one problem. The place was locked without any sign of life inside or out. I banged on the door, and started walking around the building. Shani called me back. A guy in a greasy orange mechanic jumpsuit had stuck his head out the door and was giving us a puzzled look.
“Spreek je engels?” I asked

“Nee...” He said it with the tone of, 'why on Earth would you ever think that I might speak English? This isn't England, you know. While we're at it, what are you doing banging on the door here?'

Not to fear – Dutch-speaking-American-carillonneur-man is here!

“Wij hebben een reservatie...”

It seemed like news to him.

There were tense negotiations in Dutch. There was a phone-call to some sort of manager. There was searching through records. Finally, there was a request for passport and drivers license.

He walked us outside and handed us the keys to a car. No contract. No rental agreement. No signature. Just a scan of my passport and a request for my cell #. Even when my parents and I rented the 30-year old VW bug in Mexico that didn't back up...

...there was a rental agreement.

We asked and got nowhere, and then decided that if they wanted to hand us a car without any sort of contract, that wasn't really our problem.

Before we left, I pulled the “enthusiastic friendly foreigner who doesn't quite get the social conventions here” trick and got the mechanic guy to be in a picture with me, Shani, the car. It seemed like a moment worth remembering.