The Follow Journals

	A JOURNEY TO THE UNITED KINGDOM Entry Two We make it to Amsterdam but do not see our stuff. We are sure we are at the right baggage area but our things are not here. The anxiety kicks in. Mat with his bionic eyes sees something that reads oversized or odd shapes, something to that effect. We sprint across just as our two guitars spill off the conveyer belt. There is mud caked on the side of Troy’s amp. I don’t think I want to know. Missing wheels and cracked shells… but everything is here. I have to take a peak at my guitar. It is cosmetically damaged but at least the neck is still attached. First stop: customs. In my wild imagination I have pictured them taking apart the board, basically unplugging everything that I have no clue how to plug back, and taking a really long time about it. We get there and the place is abandoned. We basically have to go round up someone to inspect us. They ask us a couple questions and look at my guitar for pity’s sake- I have my bottom lip out pretty good. And they roll us right through. Next stop: rental van. Now, I have to give Mat some credit. I witnessed some of the hassle he went through to find one that we could rent in one country and return a few countries later that would hold all of our gear and that I could actually drive. Shopping around and speaking to people with very limited English on internet phone connections, he gets our van from $2000 down to $1300 - we can actually afford gas now. Ok, now it is time to secure my post as band driver. This whole stick shift bit has been getting me nervous. My first car was a VW bug and I can remember my oldest and most patient brother nearly giving up on me with the lessons. And then, there was the first band van that I used to drive that I would have to sit at the edge of the seat and use all my weight to get the clutch down to the floor. Surely this one will be better. I look over to Mat and make the deal- if I can get it out of this parking garage, I’ll drive and he can navigate and do all the guesswork! I did it, never mind that I manage an illegal U-turn and wind up in the taxi-only lane and get the cooperation of 3 taxi drivers to back up and let me out. Must have missed an informative sign back there that was written in Dutch. Now, we will have to caravan all of our gear across 6 lanes of traffic. There was a reason I was trying for the taxi lane (all snug up next to the airport). We feel a bit like frogger, but we make it across. Now is the moment to tell if it will all fit!! It takes all three of us to figure and tug around but we manage to fold the back seat up and that made it all possible. We’re off to find our way to the hotel. Troy is already on the prowl for a whole foods market. He’s not afraid of getting lost, he’s afraid of someone making him eat some white bread and slipping some cheese into his order. I bet the airport security had a time searching through all of his food stashes. We finally make it into the city and the streets get tighter and tighter. Are we sure we are supposed to be driving on this? The streets are like something out of a movie. Crazy ruff- cobblestones I think. Mat says, “Just watch out for the bicyclists!” They own the roads and are darting around everywhere. I’m starting to understand that there isn’t really any other way to do it-you would be waiting all day until the way would clear. We finally make it to Dam’s Square and our hotel is just a block away. We are so hoping that our van will fit in their parking garage that is only $25 a day. Otherwise, we were told from others that it is about $60 to just park out around the downtown. They really do not want cars and try to discourage them. I’m discouraged - so I guess it works. Only problem is that we are packing all the band gear- highly hock able items that we need to keep our eye on. We are going to try for the garage even though we don’t make the height limit. The concierge himself is guiding us through. I am just looking up at the ceiling with all the plumbing and electrical wiring to the hotel all exposed- just hoping I don’t scrape anything away. I creep on in gliding past a Lamborghini sports car. What else could make me more nervous? This is crazy. They are parking people at least 3 deep in the parking places. We have to leave our keys in case they have to move us when we are out exploring. It reminds me of the old hand puzzles where you slide around the pieces to spell something. Move one over slide three down. It must work though. The hotel is amazing -over a hundred years old. We are on the top floor and can look out at all the other rooftops. Troy unpacks our camera. We had the realization on the airplane that the charger with the extra battery in it was at home plugged into the wall. All the battery juice we have is what is on the camera now. Troy flips it on and it is nearly out. I’m pretty devastated. I wanted to have tons of pictures. I may be picking up a disposable one.

A JOURNEY TO THE UNITED KINGDOM
Entry Two

We make it to Amsterdam but do not see our stuff. We are sure we are at the right baggage area but our things are not here. The anxiety kicks in. Mat with his bionic eyes sees something that reads oversized or odd shapes, something to that effect. We sprint across just as our two guitars spill off the conveyer belt. There is mud caked on the side of Troy’s amp. I don’t think I want to know. Missing wheels and cracked shells… but everything is here. I have to take a peak at my guitar. It is cosmetically damaged but at least the neck is still attached. First stop: customs. In my wild imagination I have pictured them taking apart the board, basically unplugging everything that I have no clue how to plug back, and taking a really long time about it. We get there and the place is abandoned. We basically have to go round up someone to inspect us. They ask us a couple questions and look at my guitar for pity’s sake- I have my bottom lip out pretty good. And they roll us right through.
Next stop: rental van. Now, I have to give Mat some credit. I witnessed some of the hassle he went through to find one that we could rent in one country and return a few countries later that would hold all of our gear and that I could actually drive. Shopping around and speaking to people with very limited English on internet phone connections, he gets our van from $2000 down to $1300 - we can actually afford gas now.
Ok, now it is time to secure my post as band driver. This whole stick shift bit has been getting me nervous. My first car was a VW bug and I can remember my oldest and most patient brother nearly giving up on me with the lessons. And then, there was the first band van that I used to drive that I would have to sit at the edge of the seat and use all my weight to get the clutch down to the floor. Surely this one will be better. I look over to Mat and make the deal- if I can get it out of this parking garage, I’ll drive and he can navigate and do all the guesswork! I did it, never mind that I manage an illegal U-turn and wind up in the taxi-only lane and get the cooperation of 3 taxi drivers to back up and let me out. Must have missed an informative sign back there that was written in Dutch. Now, we will have to caravan all of our gear across 6 lanes of traffic. There was a reason I was trying for the taxi lane (all snug up next to the airport). We feel a bit like frogger, but we make it across. Now is the moment to tell if it will all fit!! It takes all three of us to figure and tug around but we manage to fold the back seat up and that made it all possible. We’re off to find our way to the hotel. Troy is already on the prowl for a whole foods market. He’s not afraid of getting lost, he’s afraid of someone making him eat some white bread and slipping some cheese into his order. I bet the airport security had a time searching through all of his food stashes. We finally make it into the city and the streets get tighter and tighter. Are we sure we are supposed to be driving on this? The streets are like something out of a movie. Crazy ruff- cobblestones I think. Mat says, “Just watch out for the bicyclists!” They own the roads and are darting around everywhere. I’m starting to understand that there isn’t really any other way to do it-you would be waiting all day until the way would clear. We finally make it to Dam’s Square and our hotel is just a block away. We are so hoping that our van will fit in their parking garage that is only $25 a day. Otherwise, we were told from others that it is about $60 to just park out around the downtown. They really do not want cars and try to discourage them. I’m discouraged - so I guess it works. Only problem is that we are packing all the band gear- highly hock able items that we need to keep our eye on. We are going to try for the garage even though we don’t make the height limit. The concierge himself is guiding us through. I am just looking up at the ceiling with all the plumbing and electrical wiring to the hotel all exposed- just hoping I don’t scrape anything away. I creep on in gliding past a Lamborghini sports car. What else could make me more nervous? This is crazy. They are parking people at least 3 deep in the parking places. We have to leave our keys in case they have to move us when we are out exploring. It reminds me of the old hand puzzles where you slide around the pieces to spell something. Move one over slide three down. It must work though. The hotel is amazing -over a hundred years old. We are on the top floor and can look out at all the other rooftops. Troy unpacks our camera. We had the realization on the airplane that the charger with the extra battery in it was at home plugged into the wall. All the battery juice we have is what is on the camera now. Troy flips it on and it is nearly out. I’m pretty devastated. I wanted to have tons of pictures. I may be picking up a disposable one.

PAGE SELECTOR - 01 - 02 - 03 - 04 - 05 - 06 - 07 - 08 - 09 - 10 - 11 - 12 - 13