Amsterdam- half way there

Prologue

“I know it’s unlikely this year since we’ve had so little snow but can you imagine if, after all that time saving and planning, a storm delayed our trip?”

            “What?  A historic storm?   Coming in this weekend?”

…

“Since Lufthansa only flies out once a day in late afternoon and their flights are completely full through next Thursday, I just feel so sure that they may seriously delay our flight, but they won’t cancel it.”

            What?  They cancelled the flight?”

…

“Thank you, Lufthansa, for booking us through Delta Sunday night!”

            What?  You oversold the flight and when you told us we had seats what you actually meant was we quite possibly don’t have seats?”

…

“Ok.  We are on the plane.  Please, please, please just let us get there.”

…

7 hours later……

Cue shot of one seriously woozy woman,  absolutely no sleep under her belt, gazing out the plane window at one of the most beautiful sunrises she has ever seen, (ok, technically one of the few sunrises she has ever seen, because that’s how night owls roll, people) washing over Amsterdam. 

“Kaia!  Look at that sunrise!  It’s a good sign.  I am totally taking a picture.”

Then we had a wonderful day (Ok, a wonderful 6 hrs) in Amsterdam, which is full of beautiful architecture, canals lined with house boats: 

Thousands of people zipping around on bikes

like this one,

                                                         
And this one,

And this one, despite the freezing weather, 

And a flower market that is a gardener’s paradise.  I’m serious.  I’ve never seen anything like this market- stall after stall of every kind of bulb or seed you could imagine:

    And I do mean every kind: blue tulips, striped tulips, bonsai tree seeds, lemon tree seeds, cannabis seeds… 

Sure.  You can pick up your own starter kit, if you’d like.  

There are also dozens of bakeries 

(Hank, we succeeded in getting the girls some Chocomel),

museums (we spent an hour at the Van Gogh exhibit), plug in cars, painful places such as the Anne Frank House:

And sweet places such as little markets tucked into back streets that just begged to be photographed.  

I mean, come on!

    Oh.  And a China Town that we happened upon which is dotted with the occasional red light-district oriented shop.

People, you give the Hayashidas 6 hours in a foreign city and we get around.

I'm posting this from Greg's in Thailand. But I'll write a separate post for our first day here. 

Fare thee well, Ireland!

It's our last night here, and I'm experiencing some pretty intense grief- I feel almost like I did when I went back to work after my maternity leave with Tess.  I'm not overly sorry to leave Dublin, mind you.  For better or worse, I was ready to leave the city pretty much as soon as we arrived- something Dublin apparently figured out and decided to avenge.   Remember our wildly perfect last night in the north?  Tonight was not that night.  We barely managed to find a place to eat that would allow kids after 5 and didn't require a reservation,  they forgot to give me back my credit card in a store (which I failed to notice) on the one night of this month long trip that ensures I'll never see it again, and finally, on the walk back from the Luas, a bird let fly all over me.  Dublin, message received.  I'm glad to leave you to the many who adore you.   

But Ireland as a whole is a different matter.  

    It is in part the country itself, with it's outrageous, breath-taking beauty, deep history, rich mythology, lovely people and good beer.  Especially in the North and the Republic's Northwest, I could spend a year just wandering around with my mouth agape and my heart cracked wide open.

    But it's also this time I've had with my family.  Here we were able to spend time together without worrying about the house or the bills (too much) or the disastrous state of US politics or the demands of my church or Michael's school or all the suffering in the world that usually overwhelms me. 

    I'm reminded of early Christian ascetics such as the Desert Fathers of Egypt or St. Kevin right here in Ireland, who cut themselves off from the world.  They retreated from society not because they imagined they were better than the rest, but because they found themselves too weak to stand against the tide of society's ills.  I don't think I'm too weak, just too sad, sometimes.  It's been really nice not always being lost in grief.  It frees up lots of energy to do other things- like hang out with my kids and husband and actually fully pay attention to them and be open to the wonder and beauty around me.  

    Alas for me, much as I'd like to retreat like the ascetics, I ultimately believe we're called not to step out in order to be faithful but rather to step all the way in.  So I can't try to convince Michael to move to Donegal or Sligo, though the thought has crossed my mind numerous times. 

    And, there is an old Irish proverb that says "what fills the eye fills the heart."  Much as I grieve leaving, I leave with a very full heart.  And that will carry me into these next days.

And as for you, my friends and family who have shared this trip with me, as a parting gift, below is a review of just a few of the most lovely images from our time here, offered in the hopes that you too might find your  hearts filled.
    Allow me to leave you this one last time with an old Irish Blessing:

Deep peace of the running wave to you

Deep peace of the flowing air to you

Deep peace of the quiet earth to you

Deep peace of the shining stars to you

Deep peace to you.

Giant's Causeway, Antrim Coast

Dunluce Castle

White Park Bay

The Garden at Glenarm Castle

Breen Oakwood

Carrick-a-Rede

Donegal

Slieve League

Dunluce Castle

St. Patrick's Cathedral, Dublin

Newgrange

Glendalough

Jerpoint Abbey

Creevykeel

Knocknarea

Achill Island

Conemmara National Park

Grafton St., Dublin

Mulaghmore, County Sligo

Guinness at the Source

Today was our second to last full day here in Ireland.  We leave Tuesday morning.  So the question was pressing- how should we spend our time?  View the famed Book of Kells?  Go to the Irish Heritage Museum?  There were endless choices, but the right one was obvious:

Could we really leave Dublin with our heads held high if we didn't have a pint at the source?

The Brewery is set up for tourists- lots and lots of them.  We walked through a series of displays that explained the brewing process.  There were bins of barley...

...a waterfall, with a plaque explaining that, contrary to popular belief, all the water used in Guinness comes from the Wicklow Mountains, and not the River Liffey, which I can assure you is a very good thing...

a huge shop and replicas of previous ad campaigns (he's playing Hurley, by the way, if you don't recognize the sport.  It's a Gaelic game)....

...and of course, numerous bars, all of which will pour you a perfect pint if you want one.

Which we did.