I don't remember when I wrote up the notes for this day—perhaps while I was waiting for Sue's email in the terminal at Logan. They were more complete than for any other day.

 

At the Mövenpick Hotel: I slept well, which was not too surprising. The bed was extremely comfortable, I had done quite a bit of walking on Saturday, and at this point there seemed to remain no potential difficulties to disturb my sleep.

Europeans seemed to prefer glass doors to curtains. I was happy to see a mounted shower head.

The sink worked perfectly.

No bidet!

I spent the first half hour putting all of my clothes back in my suitcase. In the process I discovered one of my arch supports beneath some clothes. This was bad. I should never find just one. Even after I put all of the clothes in the suitcase it was still missing. It finally turned up beneath the white vinyl notebook that contained the descriptions of the excursions and my travel documents.

The view out my window in the early dawn was fascinating. Both Viking ships that were in port on the previous day had departed. Two new ones had arrived, Magni and Hlin. For some reason Magni was tied up on the dock itself. While I was taking photos a third ship, the Scenic Opal arrived. and parked to the left of Hlin (from my perspective). The fourth ship, Viva Moments, entered at 7:30, and tied up on the other side of Viking Hlin.

I went to breakfast at about 8. It was rather crowded, but I did not see anyone whom I recognized. I still had a lot of trouble removing the shells off of the not-very-hard-boiled eggs. I guess that I could have ordered some cooked my way (scrambled or over easy), but I did not realize this until I had already filled my plate. I added a bowl of cereal to yesterday's fare. It was quite good.

They also had a selection of very thinly sliced meats. I guess that I could have made a sandwich to be eaten later. Sue told me several times that in Amsterdam they expected visitors to do this. Her experience in this city, however, occurred in the seventies. Customs may have changed a bit in forty-five years.

I only saw one other person wearing a mask at breakfast. I didn't care; I was used to it by then, and I never have cared much about appearances.

While I was at breakfast a fifth river ship pulled into the port. I also noticed through a window near the elevator that a Holland America ocean liner was docked on the east side of the hotel. It would be discharging far more passengers than all five river ships put together.

I had €37 remaining. I started with €36. It does not seem possible that I had spent €99. The only things that I bought with euros were the comb and clippers in Regensburg, the sandwich at Subway, and the book. Unless I somehow lost some, or I forgot about some purchases, the rest must have gone to tips.[1]

Two couples from Michigan were participating in the post-extension at the Mövenpick Hotel. I heard them say "Go Blue" as they boarded the bus, but I did not get a chance to talk to either of them, One guy (Joe L) had severe mobility problems. He could only get out of a chair by himself if he rolled to a position in which he could do a push-up. I could not imagine going on vacation in that condition.

The housekeeper[2] on my floor was a guy! I could not ever remembering seeing a male housekeeper in all of my travels—for debate, work, vacations, and bridge— in the U.S. On cruise ships, yes, but never in a hotel. I assured him that I would vacate my room by 11:30.

I did. The checkout line was very long, but when I got to the front, I merely told the cashier that my room number was 1802. She quickly checked the computer and then told me that I was all paid up. I don't know why it took so long for others.

My experience at the Mövenpick Hotel was exceptionally good. I cannot think of much untoward about my experience there. I had to wait for fifteen minutes for the elevator on Saturday morning, but everything else was perfect.

I walked over to the Viking area and found a seat with good lighting. I made myself comfortable and read Talk to Me. Two people were working at the desk, a man and a woman. At some point I asked the guy where the WC was. He showed me that it was on the opposite side of the lobby.

At 1 p.m. the driver arrived for the British couple. The husband was the man who on Friday had claimed the right to copyright “stag night”. The driver mentioned that he had another fare later and announced my name. I indicated to him that I was present. He was more than a little happy to bring me with them instead of making two trips.

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At Schiphol Airport: After we arrived at the airport I did not see the British couple for some time. I searched for the place to check in for my Boston flight, which was not scheduled to depart for several hours. I was directed to ticketing area 14. I gave my passport and proof of negative test to the KLM agent. She did not look at the latter at all. For some reason the flight number on the post-it that Viking provided me was not the same as the one on the departure board. No one ever explained this discrepancy to me, but it did not affect my departure.

I learned when checking in that I needed to pay an additional €60 to check my bag. A young man in an unmistakable red Viking shirt appeared out of nowhere and asked if I was Mr. Wavada. He explained that when Sue had changed the reservation they did not transferred the credit for the bag from British Air to KLM. He also talked (in Dutch) to the agent about the situation. I had to use my Delta AmEx card to pay the extra amount. I did not complain; it was certainly worth the money to have a nonstop flight to Boston.

The worst part of my experience at the airport was shuffling along in the extremely long line (it had seven switchbacks!) for security. The British couple was forty or fifty people ahead of me in the line. So, I encountered them somewhere in the middle of the line all seven times that I changed direction.

Several times during this ordeal an announcement came over the intercom system explaining that the delays at the security check were due to a shortage of security staff.[3] I had to wonder whether the airport (or whoever hires the security people for the airport) had tried offering better wages.

This was actually a scary experience for me. I had taken every precaution that I possibly could to avoid contracting Covid-19 on this trip. I had consistently worn a high-quality tightly fitting mask and minimized contact with strangers everywhere, but in this situation I could not avoid passing close to a large number of strangers talking to one another. Almost none of them wore Covid masks, and I passed very slowly by each one seven times! That did not count the unmasked travelers who were in front of and behind me for thirty minutes.

When I finally reached the security check, I was relieved that I did not need to remove my shoes. However, when I went through the “strike a pose” machine, the lady monitoring the scanner evidently saw something. A male employee was called in to pat me down, and he allowed me to proceed to my gate. Evidently he did not find the plastic bag full of uncut heroin that I had taped to my inner thigh.

I undertook the arduous trek from the security area to Gate E24. Just before the E gates branched off I came upon a McDonald's. I had not had anything to eat since breakfast. I considered stopping at McD's, but I was not yet that desperate. However, I discovered when I walked the entire length of the E concourse that no restaurants were open. I do not know why. I ended up buying a bag of Lay's potato chips and a warm Coke Zero at the small store that was open. This meager purchase cost €7, but I did not care about the price. Who knows whether I will ever get a chance to spend my leftover euros?

No one at all was at gate E24 when I arrived. The only source of electricity was at a counter very far from the desk. I plugged in my laptop and sent an email to Sue to tell her that I was at the airport. Then I read my book, ate my chips, and sipped from the Coke Zero.

All the passengers were asked to fill out and sign a form that affirmed that we had either tested negative for Covid in the last two days or had recently recovered. Someone collected these when we boarded. I doubt that anyone ever looked at them. I did not not see anyone asked to produce a paper documenting the negative test. Maybe they would have challenged someone who showed obvious symptoms.

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The flight to Boston: The plane was nearly full. In my section the configuration was 2-4-2. I was in seat 36G, which was in the middle on the aisle. I don't know which letter they skipped. A woman was assigned 36F, the seat to my left, but she moved to one of the unused seats shortly after takeoff.

An unusual announcement was made. No photographs or “films” of staff or other passengers could be made without the subject's approval. I wonder what caused them to institute this policy. I wonder how they could possibly enforce this when nearly everyone has a phone with a camera.

I was almost the only one wearing a mask. Eventually I switched to the 3M N95 mask, but the rubber around the nose piece came loose. So, I had to use one that I had brought from home that was less comfortable.

I used the remote control in the armrest to turn on my overhead light, but I also accidentally activated the screen on the back of the seat in front of me. It was in Chinese or some other ideographic language. I could not get the remote to fit back in the armrest, and the screen kept appearing. I must have turned it off ten times before the plane landed.

I read—in many separate sessions—nearly all of the 290-page book. It was quite good. The chimp was by far the most interesting character. Boyle used an interesting technique to portray his thought processes.

For a time in the lobby and for the first two hours (!) on the flight, I was plagued by severe cramps in both hands. At one point my right forearm cramped up painfully. A few minutes after that subsided, my left forearm cramped up. Eventually all the symptoms disappeared. This had never happened to me before.

For supper I chose the Chicken Curry Masala over the Penne Pasta. I also got a salad and a roll with cheese. The flight attendant also poured me a glass of white wine. The cutlery was wood! The spoon and fork were flat. My hands were still cramping while I struggled to eat. I could hardly eat my supper at all. I had to use my teeth to open the foil package that contained the cheese. The food tasted pretty good, but the cutlery was ludicrous.

I slept for about a half hour, starting at about the 5½ (out of 7) hour mark. I wore my eye mask. When I awoke I discovered that the flight attendant had left me something that looked like a calzone. It was not very good, but at least it was warm.

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Back in New England: The landing in Boston was uneventful and on time. The temperature was in the eighties and falling.

I dealt with another fairly long line at passport control/customs. I was almost the last person on our entire flight to get through the check, which, in my case, was strictly routine. I found my suitcase in the baggage claim area rather easily.

I then departed the secure zone and found a rather comfortable place to sit in the lobby. I was able to turn my cellphone on, but I could not get it to do anything. I could not make or receive calls. Soon it went completely blank, and I could not get it started again.

I opened up the iPower email on my laptop. Sue had sent me an email at 6:30 from the bridge tournament in Marlborough. She said that the email there was crappy, and she would send one when she arrived at Logan. I sent her a response at about 6:50. It was an hour later when I got an email from her. It said that she was parked in a handicap spot and would be holding a bunch of balloons that she got at the tournament.

I packed up and walked out to the passenger pickup area. I had trouble finding her car. Evidently I went right past her at least once. I never saw any balloons, but I eventually located Sue's car. I don't know why she told me about the balloons and then did not display them.

Sue told me that she had arrived in Marlborough too late to play in the bridge tournament on Saturday night, but she really did not want to play anyway. So, why did she not just drive up on Sunday morning? Another mystery.

The western sky looked threatening as we left Boston. Thunderstorms hit while we were still on the Mass Pike. The rain caused the traffic to slow at times.

By the time that we reached Enfield the rain had stopped, and the sun was peeking through the clouds. The grass at the house was very long. I planned to mow it on Monday.[4]

When I opened the door, Bob, Sue's cat, scooted in ahead of me. He gobbled down a few mouthfuls of Cat Chow, and then he talked to me for a little while. He seemed very skinny.

I almost immediately took a shower and went to sleep. I was crabby. Sorry.

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Summary and evaluation: When people asked me if my vacation was good, I generally replied, “It was pretty good, considering the circumstances.” I expected that there would usually be one person to do things with and two to talk with. Instead I was alone for the most part, and for the first few days I really struggled to remember how to take a productive vacation.

This trip was very expensive. I cannot say whether it was worth it or not. After the first three stops in Budapest, Vienna, and Melk, I was ready to throw in the towel. However, after that each stop seemed better than the previous one, culminating with the outstanding Top of Cologne and Amsterdam's Golden Age excursions.

The best thing that happened to me was making friends with the Barkes and the family from Saskatchewan. They both really boosted my spirits when I needed it most.

In the past I had always carried a notebook on tours, and I had worked hard at turning the sketchy notes that I took during the day into sentences every night or at least every other night. That worked quite well, but my note-taking days are over. Using documents on the laptop was at least as good in theory, but I lacked the discipline to make coherent entries on many days.

The digital recorder worked very well. Relistening to the guides' commentaries from the bus tours was a big help. If I had it to do over again, I would turn the recorder on in my pocket for ever QuietVox tour as well, removed my earpiece, and put it in the same pocket. I could then listen to the commentary at my leisure on the ship, on the airplane, or at home, If that proved unworkable, I would carry the recorder in my shirt pocket and provide my own commentary to supplement or echo the guide's. That would be nerdy, but do I really care at this point in my life?

I took 2,003 photos, a staggering number. It meant that I sometimes did not pay enough attention to what the guide was saying. Even so, I missed some rather obvious opportunities for good photos.

I thought that the staff and crew of the Viking Vili did a commendable job, and the other Viking employees with whom I dealt before, during, and after the cruise were all top-drawer.

The local guides were generally good. A few said some very strange things, however.

I would also like to conclude by thanking my unused poncho for keeping the wet weather at bay—again.

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