Today I offer part 2 of the story of my European summer, and our six-week tour through eight countries and 15 different cities and towns. We’ve already visited Austria, Ireland and Germany. Our next stop is The Netherlands. (Remember to click through the hyperlinks to see the photos from each locale.)
Utrecht (and) Amsterdam, the Netherlands
We both had wanted to see Amsterdam but didn’t necessarily want to stay in the heart of the city, so we decided on Utrecht, a small city about a half-hour train ride away. We had read that Utrecht was like Amsterdam on a smaller scale.
We didn’t have a whole lot of time to explore the city once we got there, but did walk around town a bit and visited the town’s incredible library-former-post-office. For dinner we sat on the canal. It was like a dream.
We headed to Amsterdam the next day, the highlight of which was visiting the Anne Frank House. Our visit included a half-hour introduction before a self-guided tour through the annex proper. The intro taught us a lot, and gave some great insights into the whole story. The annex furniture is no longer there (the Nazis cleared it out after they arrested the family) but we did walk through the secret bookcase and through several of the actual rooms where the family and their friends hid for more than two years. And of course we were able to see the actual diary itself.
The Frank family’s stumbling stones are not located at the annex site, because the memorial project places stones specifically at a victim’s last known voluntary, freely-chosen residence, not a place of hiding. But they did have photos of those stumbling stones at the exhibit. (There’s a photo in the gallery.)
This was the only day we saw even a little rain on our entire trip, and even then it didn’t rain on us. It rained briefly when we were in the Anne Frank House, but had ended before we got out.
We also took a one-hour canal boat tour. The entire city was preparing for a huge gay pride parade and festival, so the streets were full of happy couples, and pride flags are hanging off every building. More wandering around after the canal boat tour, this time through the Red Light District, where business was hopping. That was quite interesting. No stopping into souvenir shops on those streets.
Turns out we like Utrecht better than Amsterdam. It’s more picturesque, more chill, cleaner and more charming. We loved just hanging out by the canal, enjoying a pint, and watching tour boats, canoes and paddle boats float by.
The bikes in Amsterdam, by the way, were no big deal. Just had to keep your head on a swivel. The bikes in Utrecht, however, were WAY MORE frequent and troublesome.
It was a long travel day to Bayeux, which took us on the Eurostar through Paris.
Bayeux is charming small town, in that medieval, narrow-cobblestone-streets-and-really-old-buildings kind of way that I’ve been looking for in our travels. We had a terrific B&B which was in an historic building, and was just steps from the town’s most prominent and beautiful feature, the Bayeux Notre Dame Cathedral, which you could see by leaning out our window.
Our main reason for coming to Bayeux was to participate in a Band of Brothers tour, which was devoted specifically to the role of the 101st Airborne in the D-Day campaign. We not only stood on Omaha Beach, but visited several other significant sites including:
- Pointe du Hoc, where Rangers scaled a cliff to take out what they thought was a German battery (but were actually trees painted to look like guns)
- the American Cemetery
- Ste. Mere Eglise, known for the mannequin of a paratrooper hanging from a church steeple
- and three different spots where troops from the 101st Airborne fought local engagements, including Brecourt Manor, which was recreated in the miniseries.
The next day, we continued our D-Day exploration with a trip to the Bayeux Battle of Normandy Museum. and wandered through the adjacent Bayeux War Cemetery.
Before heading out of town, we had to stop into the cathedral. We’d been in a lot of churches and cathedrals, but this one was especially neat. There were so many different side chapels, amazing artwork, unusual windows, and a really cool, all-stone, dark, lower-level, 1,000-year old crypt which really looked like it could be a place where ritual sacrifices were held.
Jack’s D-Day adventure would not be complete, however, before sampling some Calvados at dinner, a local spirit which apparently the soldiers would get very drunk on. Turns out it’s rather like whiskey.
The next morning, we took our train to Paris. Got to our hotel in Paris around 10:30, much too early to check in. So we dropped our bags and explored the area for the next four hours.
The River Seine was just a few blocks away, so we found a river walk and headed north toward the Notre Dame Cathedral. We found it and many photos happened. By this time we could get some lunch and our first pint in Paris before heading back to the hotel, which at this point had become a long walk.
After dinner, Jack figured out how to get to the Eiffel Tower, which involved two metro rides and about a half hour of travel well to the south end of the city. Many more photos happened. Bucket list item checked.
The next morning we had a guided sightseeing tour of the city. Turns out we were the only people on the tour. Our guide Paul was an enthusiastic talker and storyteller who for the next four hours regaled us stories and history lessons as we walked from one iconic attraction to the next. We began at Notre Dame and ended at the Eiffel Tower. (A less iconic but very interesting part of that tour was when we stood atop the tunnel through which Diana’s car was traveling when she died.)
After dinner that night we headed back down to Notre Dame, hoping the lines would be shorter. Sure enough, it didn’t take us long to get inside.
Surprisingly, I found it less ornate than many of the old cathedrals we’ve seen on our travels (especially in Germany and Czechia) but it has some beautiful artwork and many, many side chapels, most of them decorated with sculptures and oil paintings.
We had previously decided that we weren’t going to go up in the Eiffel Tower, but just admire it from afar, mostly because we didn’t want to fight the crowds. And I’m REALLY not a fan of heights. But thanks to some prodding from my friend Carol, who had made the trek herself, the next day we reconsidered. But we made two concessions: going earlier in the morning when the crowds would be less, and only climb to the second level (opting for the stairs instead of the elevator), saving on both money and knee-quaking height.
We got to the tower around 9:30 a.m. and the lines were indeed shorter. Google says there are 674 steps to the second level, which is at 377 feet, or the equivalent of a 38-story building. It felt more like 1,000. But we managed quite well and the effort was very worth it. Even though we weren’t at the tippy top (less than halfway up, actually), the view was spectacular.
Then we sat UNDER THE EIFFEL TOWER and ate our croissants. Do you get the sense it was an emotional experience for me? Many photos happened.
Stopped for a quick sandwich, then spent another hour or so locating and wandering through the amazingly beautiful Luxembourg Gardens, which has fountains, lots of statuary, square trees and lots of kids pushing little sailboats around the pond. Apparently this is a Parisian tradition.
It was a ten-hour, two-train trip to Madrid the next day, our second-to-last stop.
We didn’t get into town until after 6 p.m., but that was still time to grab dinner and visit the Reina Sofia museum, which was just steps from our hotel. We only had an hour before it closed, but that was enough time to track down what I really wanted to see: works by Picasso and Dalí. I was especially excited to see La Guernica, a piece which I had learned about during my Spanish-language-studying years.
We started our first full day in Madrid with a free walking tour, which for two hours or so took us through some back streets to see some neat architecture and learn some history. Immediately after that tour finished, we met up with my daughter Sara and son-in-law Tom, Tom’s sister Nikki and their friend Danielle, who had just arrived in town.
On Monday morning, Sara had booked us some tickets to the Royal Palace, which dates back to the mid-1700s. It’s the official residence of the current King and Queen of Spain, and is often used for official functions.
Jack and I have seen more palaces than we can count on our European adventures, but this one was definitely the most ornate. The artwork and wall decorations, furniture, and generally lavish ornamentation was over the top gaudy. We saw crown jewels, thrones, intricately painted ceilings, unbelievable chandeliers, you name it. Then we went through the Royal Armory with its collection of armor and weaponry, and the Royal Collections Gallery — basically an art gallery with collections from all of the kings and emperors who lived there. Tapestries, paintings by Goya and Titian, elaborate carriages.
Around dinner time, we headed out to track down a big neighborhood festival located only a few blocks from our hotels. We didn’t know exactly what we would find, but for Jack and me, it turned out to be a highlight of the trip.
It was called the San Lorenzo Festival, which honors St. Lawrence (the same St. Lawrence as the seaway), a Roman deacon and martyr best known for his habit of washing peasants’ feet. The church which bears his name is in a multicultural neighborhood called Lavapiés, or “wash feet.” The festival began over the weekend and came to its grand conclusion that night with a Mass and a procession from the church.
There was a rock band, street foods and beer, but it was the procession that delighted us most, because it was exactly the kind of local cultural celebration that we love being a part of. It began at the church and meandered through the narrow neighborhood streets, which were crowded with local residents and tourists.
Leading the procession was a cardboard recreation of the church, then a wagon carrying a casket and an effigy of St. Lawrence. Following close behind were dozens of men and women dressed in traditional attire, and a brass band. Finally, hundreds of neighborhood residents trailed behind, many of them wearing green scarves bearing San Lorenzo’s name.
The atmosphere was electric. It reminded us a lot of the Witches’ Night celebration we encountered in Prague. There are a lot of photos in the Madrid gallery.
You may remember from WAYYYY back when I started this blog, I mentioned that the main reason we were coming to Valencia was to see the total solar eclipse.
Valencia threw us the hottest weather to date. It had been warm in other countries — especially early on — but 95 in Valencia felt like 100+ thanks to the humidity caused by its location on the Mediterranean Sea. When we arrived, it was still too early to check into our B&B (which was air conditioned), so we dropped our bags at a luggage storage place and met back up with Sara and her gang at the Central Market. The market is a large indoor mercantile with lots of food vendors and fishmongers. Jack and I picked up some fast-food paella for our first meal of our Valencia stay. Because when in Valencia, that’s what you eat.
We wandered around Old Town waiting for our flats to be ready, then split up and met again for dinner.
The next morning, at Sara’s suggestion, Jack and I rented bikes and rode “The Rio.” It’s a five-mile long dry river bed that runs through Valencia, from which the city had diverted water from after a storm many years ago. Now it’s a beautiful park with soccer fields, playgrounds, fitness areas, coffee shops and gardens. We spent about 90 minutes riding its length, up one side then down the other.
For lunch, Sara had made a reservation for us at “La Pepica,” a restaurant located right on the beach, which is especially well known for its paella. The paella was huge (check out the photos), the Agua de Valencias went down smoothly, and it was a great afternoon.
We finished at Pepica around 4 p.m. The eclipse was happening at 7:30 that evening, and as our plan was to watch it from the beach, it would have been inefficient at that point to go back into town and come out again a few hours later. So we filled the next few hours at an ice cream shop and a beach-side pub.
The City of Valencia had identified and designated an area along the beach for prime eclipse viewing, so at about 7 p.m. we found a spot alongside hundreds of thousands of others and peered over the neighboring buildings as the sun set in the west.
As promised, we had a great view, and aside from a few passing clouds, a clear sky. We watched as the sun became a smaller and smaller crescent. A cheer erupted from the crowd as it reached totality, which only lasted about a minute. It was a MUCH better experience than we had in Webster a few years ago.
The next morning, Jack and I took a bus down to Valencia’s beautiful beach, where we rented an umbrella and beach chairs and just relaxed for four hours. It was the ideal conclusion to a hectic (almost) six weeks. We slathered ourselves with sunblock and tried to stay out of the sun as much as we could, because 15 minutes in that sun would have turned us into beets. But we did get into the water several times to float and ride the swells. It was bathwater-warm.
We had a small lunch and later in the day connected up with Sara and her gang one more time before turning in rather early, since we were planning for a 5 a.m. alarm.
Our return home started with a plane to Vienna, where we stayed overnight, then a plane to Toronto, where we stayed overnight. Finally, last Sunday, we took a train back to Rochester. True to form, Amtrak ran 90 minutes late. Of the dozens of train trips we took in the previous six weeks, Amtrak was the ONLY one that was not on time.
To sum up, during our trip we visited eight countries and 15 cities and towns, carried our bags through five airports, 18 train stations and countless metro stations and bus stops. We stayed in seven different Air B&Bs and 11 hotels. We averaged more than 15,000 steps a day, peaking out at 26,000 on a few of those days.
My daughter Sara asked me what I was looking forward to most when I got home. Most people would say “sleeping in my own bed.” But most of the places we stayed had king beds, so going back to my queen was not on the top of my list. Instead, I was looking forward to seeing my friends, doing laundry when I feel like it, using a clothes dryer and a wash cloth (Europe doesn’t believe in either). Enjoying air conditioning in the bedroom. And driving. I miss driving. Plus, I’m glad I’m not going to totally miss out on corn season.
I’m sorry to have missed the Jazz Fest and the Carnival (guess I didn’t miss the parade, though). But I wouldn’t have traded this experience for anything. If you’ve read this far, thank you, and I hope you’ve enjoyed the photos.
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(posted 8/19/2026)
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