Previously: Haarlem on a Friday night in September: One church with beer, another without, and a relaxing dinner with friends at The Warehouse.
The last full day in Europe always seems bittersweet, even after three dozen goodbyes. My body returns to the daily grind, but something of my spirit remains behind, to be reclaimed next time.
In 2017, a complicating factor for me was what seemed like a head cold, steadily worsening as the week progressed. I felt fine in Mechelen and Poperinge, but by Wednesday night in Haarlem the crud was creeping into my head, throat and chest.
Upon returning stateside, this malaise was diagnosed as an upper respiratory infection, which dovetailed into the purely awful, lingering allergy conditions in the Ohio Valley, and finally compelled me to consult with GP and allergist to see what might be done about my deteriorating sinuses.
The good news is after two months of annoyance, the diagnosis is comprehensible and the path forward clear.
The bad news: none of it did me any good those last two days in Haarlem, to the extent that during our final afternoon in town, I was drinking mint tea instead of beer. It's sad to have wonderful arrays of beer spread out before you, and be unable to taste them.
The highlight of Saturday was to have been an appearance by "Big" Kim Andersen, who earlier in the year took up residence in Arnhem, Netherlands, just a couple hours from Haarlem by train.
As it happened, Kim was sick, too; he was forced to cancel, and coupled with my own infirmity, this journey of renewal with friends concluded with a decided whimper.
However, it was a gorgeous late summer's day, and we managed a late morning walk to the De Adriaan windmill, a symbol of Haarlem since the last 1700s. One of Jopen's beers is named for the imposing structure.
Next stop was the Amsterdamse Poort, which was built in 1355 and is the last remnant of Haarlem's twelve city defense gates. In front of the gate is a sculpture depicting Kenau Simonsdochter Hasselaer, wood merchant and daughter of a brewer, who became a folk legend for rallying Haarlem's women to fight the invading Spaniards in 1573.
Eventually we circled back to the Grote Markt for the Saturday market day spread. I couldn't last long without a tasty nieuwe haring.
Waffles are a thing, especially when freshly rendered. They're not just for tourists, either -- although we were.
Just off the Grote Markt, a statue of two knights jousting.
Inge and Marilyn came by Spaarne 66 for goodbyes. The weather was beautiful, and most of Haarlem was out in the street making merry.
Boris and Dewi were waiting at Cafe Briljant for a final round during the establishment's last days of operation, but first we stopped for some carryout döner kebab and brought it to the cafe.
On Sunday morning, the fast and efficient bus to Schiphol, and the return flights.
The narrative ends here. All things considered, I was exhausted. There were many times in the past when the pace of partying dictated physical infirmity, though not this time. Age, maybe.
Mentally, it had been an exceedingly challenging year before the trip commenced; there'd been too many deaths and too many elegies, hence a need to reconnect with folks we hadn't seen for such a long time.
Of course, this also meant bidding adieu to Bill England, which was slightly easier to do upon meeting his and Inge's daughter. Marilyn simply rocks. Boris and Dewi were non-judgmental about the long absence, and I'm thankful. It was like no years had passed at all.
Be well. It won't be as long until next time. We'll see you all soon.
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