The approach to the city, at least from Utrecht Centraal, is almost as awful as in its last iteration. The bridge to the dreadful shopping centre has gone. Now there's a small outdoor stretch. Before entering the maze of the dreadful shopping centre.
"Remember the route so we can find our way back." Andrew wisely advised.
But I digress. I really wanted to talk about my time down the pub with Andrew.
I started him young. While still strapped into a pushchair. I realised fully the advantage in that once he was a little older. And would regularly make a dash for freedom while my back was turned in Cafe Belgique. Often almost making it to Nieuwe Dijk before I caught him. I'm sure he would have made his own way back eventually. If he hadn't been kidnapped or something.
The nut machine, where you put in a coin and turned a knob, would usually keep him quiet for as couple of minutes. Though it could work out pricey. Depending on how desperate for peace I was. And how hungry he was.
We first visited Bavariia together just a little later. When he was six. For him: a visit to the railway museum in Nuremberg and a ride on the heritage railway in the Fränkische Schweiz. For me: well, all the lovely pubs in the Fränkische Schweiz. And Annafest.
It was my first time there. And I made the mistake of having a couple of beers before arriving. So many beers to try. And only in litre measures. I was I had Andrew to prop me up the way back down the hill. Him being so tall did come in handy sometimes. Then his fascination with trains made sure we got the right one back to Bamberg and our hotel.
No wonder I still travel with him.
Posts
1 comment:
As long as the kid is reasonably well behaved and the place isn't packed to the gills, I never understood people in the US who complained about them being around. Hopefully things on that side of the Atlantic were and are more relaxed.
Post a Comment