Holland Road Trip Day 1: The Trials of Travel

Rather than driving up the Jersey Turnpike - our usual trek for Easter weekend - we took the A3 to Holland with our friends Susan and Adam and their two kids.  They arrived at our apartment promptly at 8:45 Good Friday morning with mapquest directions, in case GPS failed, and tickets to Keukenhof, the world's largest flower garden. We chose the Holland region of the Netherlands because this famous garden, open only 8 weeks a year, sits within our 5 hour in the-car-with-kids limit.

As an aside, people frequently use the term Holland when referring to this Dutch windmill-and-wooden-shoe filled country, but "Holland" covers only two of the twelve provinces.  In the same way Georgians would reject being called New Yorkers, most of the Dutch population reject this usage.

Our four hour trip quickly increased as we encountered sleet on the Autobahn.  (Yes, I feel better knowing you people in DC froze all weekend as well.)  We planned to stop at the last Aral and Esso gas stations in Germany.  We buy subsidized gas here to offset the high European prices.  We have a deal with Esso and my friend's company, with Aral.  Our gas cards only work in Germany.  We drove 10 minutes off the highway only to find the Esso station we had mapped out closed for the German Holiday.  We headed back to the Aral station with two kids now desperate for a bathroom.  Thank God, this station remained open though we then drove by three restaurants before finding one open for lunch.

Back on the highway, our GPS warned of an accident ahead, but kindly provided an alternate route through a small town.  As we drove the narrow streets, a strange rattling sound demanded our attention.  After twenty minutes with no identifiable pattern, dis-ease replaced the relaxed mood in our car.  Panic quickly took over as I thought out loud, "What's the plan if our Japanese car breaks down in the Netherlands.  We have to order wiper blades from the States - forget about engine parts."  Secondly, we don't speak Dutch.  At this point, we call our friends and pulled over at the next exit.  At a light, they roll down their window, "What's that sound?" Great.

We drive by Fiat, Volvo, Mitsubishi, Kia, Toyota, and Ford and end up in an autoparts parking lot.  The mechanic quickly directs us to a Honda dealership ("Go two exits and turn right - Look for the McDonald's sign." Really.)  Thirty minutes and several u-turns later, no Honda.  We pull over again.  (Did I mention our friends are still following us.)  These people direct us around the corner to "Oscar's."  

We drive into a back alley, spot the sign, and Dave runs in.  Oscar's partner comes out, checks our brake pads, fluids, and engine and signifies everything is fine.  I get out and make the sound.  The mechanic offers to drive our car around.  He hops in with Dave, and I watch my family drive off with a complete stranger and no common language in a foreign country. 

We finally arrive at the hotel at 5:30.  We check in, drop our bags, and head to dinner.  Of course, the hotel restaurant requires a reservation.  Confidently using the address the concierge provided, we head back out to a pizza place and quickly arrive in a residential neighborhood.  Some days, we miss the Jersey Turnpike.