The time of my life (III)

By this time in our European adventure--for adventure it most certainly was--we were seasoned bus riders. We got in and got out (mostly) punctually, didn't litter the corridor of the bus (too much), and weren't too loud (except when we were).
But one thing we were really, really good at was looking out of windows. The German autobahn, while not quite as daredevil as most people think, is surrounded by green fields, rolling hills or the banks of a river. As I woke up from my second nap of the day, I glanced at my watch: still hours to go. Cows roamed the fields around us, little streams ran past square looking houses... Wait.
After a long debate, it was confirmed. Thanks to the EU's minimal border controls, we had rolled straight into Holland without being any the wiser.
Several hours later, something much more obvious was staring us in the face: the ocean. After nine months of living inland, smelling the air of the North Sea was like taking a long drink.

We boarded our ferry to Borkum, an island in the North Sea, for a day of resting and recharging. After a barefoot hike through a salt marsh, we took our rented bikes to the beach to soak up the sun and salt air, before watching the sunset from the top of a tall dike.

On Saturday morning, it was already time to leave. We bid the coastline goodbye and turned once again inland. Hours later, after driving through much more of Belgium, we arrived at our hotel, eight kilometers out of Amsterdam.However, as it frequently is in Europe, the problem of distance was solved happily by a train.

 

  

Masters of sightseeing, users of the buddy system, taking pictures as we walked and finding the best-priced postcards and pommes frites, we squeezed every bit and back alley of tourism out of Amsterdam in the evening we were there. We even took a turn through the famed Red Light District, where photos were strictly forbidden.

To find out where we went in our magical bus next, check back tomorrow!