Pink Sneakers versus the bicycles in Delft

Posted by Nora K ,
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Spinning, spiralling and whizzing, spokes racing towards me, I could only pray that the impending impact be swift, painless and blood-free.  After all, I hadn’t banked on spending the first hour of my long-anticipated overseas vacation bandaged from head to toe in the most unflattering of mummified attire, killing time in a foreign hospital, all because I had foolishly placed my pink-sneaker clad tootsies directly in the path of an oncoming deluge of bicycles.  Yes.  Bicycles.  You know, those oh so dangerous two-wheeled contraptions of the stay out of my way or risk injury type of kind.

Where's my bicycle?

Meandering along the picturesque canal-lined rues of Delft, oohing and awing at the postcard scenery and hell-bent on procuring that million dollar digital snapshot, my thoughts were in the clouds, a zillion miles away from the more pressing issues of potential calamity and peril located just mere inches from my feet.




Ever so diligent about not leaning on the wrought iron railings that separated the banks of the canals from the cobblestone streets, lest I inadvertently topple on over and tumble head-first into the murky aqua below, I made certain to keep clear of the rails and thus avoid the potential embarrassment of floundering like a fish out of water, a crazed woman bawling and screeching hysterically for her rubber dingy and water wings. 


It’s quite the shame then, that so focused was I on not swimming with the sharks (in the canals?) that I had neglected to watch my back and should have paid a tad more attention to the ruckus that was going on behind me.  In my zeal to capture that highly coveted one of a kind image worthy of National Geographic status and one that could possibly garner a potential bidding war from travel magazines worldwide, I inadvertently stepped backwards - directly into the path of a cavalcade of speeding bikes! 



Now, let’s be perfectly clear, as being mowed down by denizens of racing cyclists had not been on my “Top 10 things to see and do while in the Netherlands” agenda, but alas, this was now my reality, a mash and gnash brawl between flesh and spokes, a bloody altercation of the most unpleasant kind.  Caught in a showdown between the King of the Road (aka The Bicycle) and a clued-out flash happy stumbling dingbat of a tourist (who, me??), it was left to the fates to decide on ultimate victory.



As luck would have it, the Lady herself was in quite the upbeat mood, granting this ol’ Auntie a much-needed break, convulsing in fits of laughter as my pink-sneaker clad feet scrambled their way to safety.  Hugging the curb, and with just a few minor scrapes and gashes, I could only thank my lucky stars for my good fortune, vowing never ever again to get in a duel with Le dreaded bike.  After all, there were 14 more days of potential calamity and misadventure lurking in the wings, eager to spring into action and throw a bit of havoc my way.

Crisis averted.  Lesson learned.  Or, should I instead say, lesson learned? 

And, speaking of adventure, where exactly was that “Bicycles for Hire” shop located?

If you can’t beat them, might as well join them.



Come traipse, oops, meant to say, bicycle along the canal-lined paths of picture-postcard Delft, on the lookout for somewhat clueless pedestrians, as I balance precariously on two wheels, camera in one hand and vino tinto in the other, scribbling my way around the world.

Next post – In two weeks!!  Wednesday, January 21st!! 


Stay tuned for more on cuckoo ol’ Auntie Nora’s escapades in northern Europe in the middle of October, in somewhat undesirable weather, caught in a hailstorm or two.


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And the nearest park bench is where??

Posted by Nora K ,
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Once again, full-blown panic had settled on in, with Miss Kid and Grocery Gal literally locked out, frantically ringing the bell at the front door of their Lisbon hotel.  Like, seriously, how many unwelcome calamities can two teenage girls have to endure in the course of one day??  It was now past 1:00am and the duo were no where closer to being curled up snug as a bug in a rug, safe and sound, sequestered from both the elements and the advances of undesirable vagrants lurking about the nooks and crannies of deserted corners.  Non.  Instead, the pair were outside in the pouring rain, miserable, drenched and freezing, pounding relentlessly on the door of their conveniently located hotel, caught in a torrential downpour of the totally unexpected kind. 

In hindsight, perhaps they should have paid a tad more attention to the fine print, which clearly stated, that if one arrives past a certain hour, one must advise the hotel in advance, of one’s expected arrival time, or risk being locked out.  It’s quite the pity then, that a series of unforeseen events collectively conspired against the gals, from the antics of those mischievous gremlins of baggage gone missing to the unwelcome catcalls of a World Cup victorious crowd gone wild.  It’s not their fault that they had to traipse for what seemed like hours on end in search of a hotel that just did not want to be found.  And then there was the meltdown of the century on a deserted Lisbon avenue, most likely You Tubed, now vaulted in the internet archives for all of posterity to see.  Yikes!!

Resigning themselves to being homeless on the very first night of their long-anticipated overseas sojourn sans cuckoo ol’ Auntie Nora and parents, Le Niece and pal were despondent beyond dejected, confronted with the reality of possibly having to spend the remainder of the night shivering on the nearest park bench.  That, and having to scrap with the birds for droplets of premium bath water, added just an extra element of misery to their oh so unfortunate predicament. 

As luck would have it, the incessant buzzing and clamouring eventually paid off, with the front door of the hotel clicking open at just the right time, a welcoming haven of warmth ushering the gals on in.  Ecstatic beyond belief that their fate had just taken a drastic turn for the better, Miss Kid and side-kick were in their glory, jubilant with the anticipation of catching up on their zees on pillow-top mattresses of the oh so comfortable kind.  Or so they foolishly thought.  For you see, an encounter with a finicky and rickety old elevator of the oh so claustrophobic kind was waiting in the wings, eager to throw yet another wrench into their not so well laid travel plans. 

It’s a good thing that Miss Kid and Bestie had arrived at the hotel luggage-less, as having to stuff their over-sized bags into the teensiest of tiniest of closet like elevators would have been a task of insurmountable proportions.  Cuckoo ol’ Auntie Nora would have freaked and gone insane and would have had quite the undignified middle-aged breakdown, adamantly refusing to place a pink-sneakered tootsie into the smaller than small confining lift, choosing instead to spend the remainder of her holiday camped out in the hotel lobby.  Sad.  But true.

The saga continues.  And like seriously, will it never end?  They say that truth is stranger than fiction and in this case, it’s more like a movie trailer gone bad…very, very, very bad.

What else could possibly go wrong?  You think there’s more??

Come traipse the world with Miss Kid and Grocery Gal, and navigate the murky waters of travel glitches gone bad, with planes delayed, baggage gone missing and hotel nowhere to be found.  And, that’s just on Day One of circumventing the globe!! 

As “luck” would have it, the gals’ luggage was ever so promptly and efficiently delivered to their Lisbon hotel the morning that they were scheduled to depart for home.  Like, seriously?  Yep.   Nothing like having to schlepp your baggage back to the airport, especially when you’ve by now grown accustomed to travelling with just the shirt on your back.  And, in case you're wondering, the remainder of the trip went off without a hitch, with Day One in Lisbon a mere hiccup in the grand scheme of travel.

And to think, had Miss Niece not been the unfortunate recipient of the antics of those mischievous gremlins of travel upheaval, what, pray tell, would her cuckoo ol’ Auntie Nora have to scribble about?


Next post – Wed Jan 7th – Stay tuned for the hilarious escapades of cuckoo ol’ Auntie Nora in the Netherlands and Belgium – not soaking up the sun but drenched by torrential downpours for days on end, with a golf-ball sized hail storm thrown in for good measure…oh, and dodging the bicycles in Amsterdam.  The adventures continue....

Pink Sneakers on the Go will be taking a bit of an extended holiday break and will be back to regular bi-weekly blogging on Wednesday, January 7th.

Wishing you, my dear readers, Happy Holidays and a very Happy New Year!!  A very heartfelt thanks to all for reading and laughing with the Kid and I on our crazy ol' sojourns, on our clueless journey of continual learning and discovering....and then learning some more....




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How not to spend the first leg of holiday searching for hours on end for hotel gone missing.

Posted by Nora K ,
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Day one of Miss Kid and Grocery Gal’s long anticipated overseas sojourn was a far cry from merrily frolicking on the beach, squishing sand between their toes and splashing in the turquoise hued waters of the Atlantic.  Non.  Instead, the duo was subjected to a comedy of errors, enduring setback after setback, as they struggled to navigate the now pitch-black cobblestone avenues in search of their Lisbon hotel. 

Where is the beach??

It was well past the witching hour and vagrants and other highly questionable characters were the only creatures out and about, lurking dangerously about the darkened passageways, on the lookout for unsuspecting victims of the confused and clueless kind.  So, it was with a dreaded sense of trepidation that Le Niece and pal placed one hesitant step in front of the other, on a now desperate quest to locate their perhaps non-existent accommodations.  Perhaps they should have paid a bit more attention to reading the fine print when hastily booking their digs, as it had clearly stated that the hotel was a tad challenging to find, tucked discretely on a side street away from the main drag.  The signage itself was somewhat sketchy and completely undecipherable in the dead of night, which was not so much of an issue in broad daylight, but quite the daunting task when searching with only the starry eyed heavens to guide you.  Yikes!!

Yikes!!  It's pitch black!!  Where is the road??

On the verge of tears and a zillion miles away from home, Miss Kid lamented her luckless fate, stranded in the middle of nowhere on a deserted street, with not even a signpost to guide her way, clue-less as what to do next.  Her slightly older best pal was now bawling hysterically alongside the curb, an undignified mess spilling a tsunami of lakes and puddles, in the throws of a crying fit of the century.  Gulping and gasping for air, her only words a gibbering mishmash of the completely undecipherable kind. 

Perhaps it was the echo of wailing loud enough to wake the dead, startling even those residing across the Atlantic or perhaps it was the onslaught of complaints from disgruntled locals rudely awakened from their slumber, that had garnered the curious attention of a cruising police vehicle; nonetheless, salvation had miraculously arrived in the form of ever so helpful officers of the law abiding kind.

The kinder than kind knights in shining armour took pity upon the dishevelled gals and escorted them, as if royalty, to their Lisbon hotel, which incidentally, was just around the corner.  Somehow, the duo had ended up traipsing endlessly in circles, with their hotel located just a convenient hop, skip and a jump away.  Who knew??  Not les clued-out Gals, obviously.  One, incidentally, can get quite disoriented whilst meandering along age-old passageways without a map in the dead of night, in a foreign locale, an especially problematic task when jet-lagged and bleary-eyed.

Pleased as punch that their meltdown of the hopelessly lost kind had resulted in the unexpected outcome of being chauffeured, movie-star style, in a pretend limo of the blaring lights and screeching siren kind, Miss Niece and best pal were beside themselves with glee at the vision of snuggly snoozing in their beds, or so, they foolishly dreamt.

It’s too bad though, that their trials and tribulations were far from over, for you see, just because the gals were safely deposited at their hotel, didn’t quite mean that they were actually inside their hotel. 

And you actually thought that this story was over? 

Come trudge along the cobblestone rues and avenues with Miss Niece and Grocery Gal on a holy-grail quest of the century, on a mission to locate their now missing hotel.  Hotel eventually located, but the gals’ tribulations are far from over.  Like, seriously?  There’s more?  Does it ever end?  Yep, stay tuned for the wrap up of Day One of Miss Kid’s miss-adventures in Portugal.


Next post – in two weeks!!  Wednesday, December 10th.  Stay tuned!!


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Day One of Miss Kid's Portugal adventure: Luggage lost. Hopelessly lost. Hotel gone missing.

Posted by Nora K ,
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You know that you’re in a bit of a conundrum when your respective airline sends your bags packing on an adventure of their own to explore yet another part of the globe without you.  You, meanwhile, are stuck with just the clothes on your back, in the midst of a torrential downpour that has no intention of letting up anytime soon.  Needless to say, your umbrella is buried at the bottom of your suitcase, and is merrily jetting around the globe, soaking up the sights and sounds of more exotic locales.  To make matters even worse, you are now hopelessly lost amongst a maze of cobblestone rues and avenues, a zillion miles away from home, with your “conveniently” situated hotel nowhere to be located.  Welcome to Day One of Miss Kid and Grocery Gal’s long anticipated overseas sojourn on what can only be described as the vacation from hell.

Umbrella off on an adventure of its own

Lost amongst the cobblestones somewhere 

And, to think, it had all started out so swimmingly well.  Their last minute booking was that rare combination of dirt-cheap price (Clue #01) for a four star hotel (Clue #02) at peak high season (Clue #03).  So what if their across the pond holiday included 3 layovers over a 24 hour time frame?  Why go the direct route when you can instead save a couple of bucks and languish in foreign airports for hours on end waiting for a connecting flight?  After all, when one is 18, young and carefree, time is on your side and jetting there is just half the fun, stumbling across an avalanche of roadblocks and diversions along the way.  Just for fun, of course.  Yeah.  Right.  Whatever.

Which layover was this one??????

And so, a mere 24 hours later, Miss Niece and best friend found themselves sans luggage in Lisbon, map-less and clue-less as how to high-tail it to their economy priced luxury accommodation, all without getting drenched, in a mad-dash across town.  It’s quite unfortunate that their decision to forgo a five minute cab ride so as to conserve a couple of Euros and opt instead to hop on the metro on the night of the World Cup was not the wisest move of all, with the train jammed to capacity with the rowdy of the rowdiest bunch of revellers out to paint the town red. 

Not one to be easily spooked, World Traveller Kid Extraordinaire felt a slight tinge of apprehension as she boarded the over-crowded train, the hooting and hollering of young lads and lecherous old geezers adding a sense of unease to the journey ahead.  The fair-haired duo were perhaps in the wrong place at the wrong time, caught in a frenzy of over-zealous sports fanatics celebrating the victory of a century.

Bull-dozed with non-stop catcall after catcall of hollering gone wild and up to their eye-balls with the lewd and crude antics of partygoers gone mad, Le Niece and pal cleverly executed one of the wisest moves of the century by electing to hop off the train at the next station, several stops earlier than their scheduled exit.  Better safe than sorry, the motto goes, even though the trek across town would now get them to their digs even later than originally anticipated.  Yikes!!  Another sleepless night involving trekking for hours on end but heck, look at the bright side, there’s no miserable schlepping of luggage this time round!!

As darkness had descended some hours on in and with the witching hour drawing near, a sense of unease permeated the creepiness of the shadows lurking about, unhinging even the most resilient of globe-trotters, let alone two lost and forlorn teenage girls.

Yikes, it's dark!!  Where are we????????

And then the clock struck twelve.

Come jet around the globe with Miss Kid, on a journey like none other, where luggage is lost, maps are undecipherable and hotels are nowhere to be found.  Come stumble along on a quest to somewhere or anywhere, far away across the pond, frantically searching for your home away from home.

Next blog – Wednesday November 26th (in two weeks, every other Wednesday)   


Do the gals eventually end up at their hotel or are there a few roadblocks tripping them up along the way?  Stay tuned for the continuation of the adventures of Miss Kid and Grocery Gal’s mis-adventures in Lisbon!!


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