At the train station, I got the most delicious lunch, which was pasta with fresh basil pesto and sun-dried tomatoes and a round of goat cheese that was sweeter than anything I've tasted and must have had a piece of heaven inside. Waaaay better than Trader Joe's or the Silver Goat chevre, and I eat that stuff like it's candy. (But mostly because it tastes so damn good with TJ's balsamic vingrette.)
WE ALMOST DIDN'T MAKE IT!!!!!
The train from Amsterdam to Middleburg is a little over two hours, and there were several stops in between, most of which we were only somewhat aware of since the conductor spoke only in Dutch. At one stop, he talked for an awfully long time, and then a few minutes later, the lights in the cabin went off. Remember how we don't speak Dutch and understood not a word. Maybe he was giving us stats on that day's gas mileage. I got a nagging feeling that something was wrong, and voiced this to my mom, who was blissfully unaware, deep in her book. At that moment there was short, shart lurch in the direction opposite from where we were travelling. As if our car was moving backwards. We jumped out of the train and saw that they HAD DETATCHED OUR CAR FROM THE FRONT OF THE TRAIN AND WERE ABOUT TO LEAVE US AND THE STATION BEHIND. Boy did we run with our bags to the front car, where a conductor was waving his hands like, dude, hurry up, get with the program.
At Middleburg we had to take a bus to Domberg, and then walk some hundred meters to our hostel, which was . . .
(drumbeat)
A CASTLE!!!
A CASTLE WITH A MOAT AND SOME TURRETS AND A COAT OF ARMOR IN THE LOBBY!!! (And a head of deer in the dining room.)
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