From the Ship's Hell.

What a name for an airport [see history]. I'm a bit disappointed that they wouldn't let me in the KLM lounge, as I wasn't on a SkyTeam/Continental flight. I'm taking Lufthansa, so no lounge for me: I have to pay for a my brews like a commoner. Scandalous.

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This has been an awkward visit to Amsterdam. Both Charles and I had moments where the air was hard to breathe and we didn't know if we were 'home' or just visiting, or caught somewhere in space, or if we even knew where our home was. I feel roots here. There's a familiarity that has me content and at ease, yet walking his parents about town and trying to convey what it meant to be a part of the ebb and flow of a dense town like this was kind of futile. I don't think that they can quite feel the same energy that we do. Maybe I'm just using nostalgia to fool myself into believing that I understand what life here is like. I'm not quite sure, to be honest.

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Charles and I had a discussion about his father for a bit, especially surrounding the reason why they never came here to visit when we lived here. Evidently, his father had quite the issue with our relationship and the sexuality issues during that time. Only the death of Charles' sister and the aftermath of helping them through that time in 2002 turned his father's heart to realize that the definition of family was broad. On one hand I'm kind of ticked that it took that event to be accepted, on the other I'm glad that he's come around. I suppose I can only hope that when he goes home and tells about his trip to his other closed-minded friends in the KC's, that he doesn't gloss over the fact that it was his queer son that made it possible.

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The tourism had some high points, and some low points. On Wednesday we rented a car and took the parents to Keukenhof and out to the Aflsluitdijk, to see if there were any leaks which needed stopping.

The Keukenhof was disappointing to me for the most part, as the season was over, and instead of blooming beds of flowers, there were a few crates of greenhoused flowers placed on the lawns next to the beds. There was however an amazing display of lilies in one of the trade-show greenhouses which made up for the lack of color outside. I was the driver for the tour out to the dike, so got to deal with quite a bit of the traffic frustration on some of the national roads among the tiny towns between the highways. The driving was fun though. Our little VW Golf had a tight gearbox, and could haul ass pretty well down the highway when I got to open it up. I think the in-laws were a bit underwhelmed by the dike, but they've seen it now.
Thursday was the most amazing day we've had, and I owe it to Jan and Timon and the trusty AYOR. While our amorphous plan and delayed schedule royally ticked off captain Jan at one point, they were gracious enough to host the four of us on the boat for a ride throught the canals. The day wasn't especially warm to begin with, however the clouds parted at one point, and we had some quite glorious sun for puttering around the town. We went by the gracht where we lived, out to the Ij, saw some of the countless new apartments being built on an old wharf, and sidled up to an enormous cruise ship. We motored through the university and the red-light districts, all the while enjoying some tea and cookies and a couple of beers. I know they both enjoyed the ride, especially Jan's unique captaining abilities and his warning horn that he blows to warn other craft that the AYOR is coming through. I need to get a video of that next time. Thanks again, Jan & Timon... I don't know how to return your generousity.
Tanned from the ride, we wandered the town a bit more, searching out some knoflook saus to bring back as gifts, as well as some souveniers. For dinner we made it to the Divan restaurant in the Jordaan; our favorite local place when we lived there. Last time we were back here, the owner welcomed us back most heartily, and chided us for not letting her know we left. On our return this time, it was no different: she asked why it had been so long since we've been back in the restaurant, and even prepared a special baklava for us. Chaz's parents were a bit uneasy with the slow service that is the standard at the restaurant, but they enjoyed the food, and we got through it all. I probably tipped far too much, but asked her to enjoy a drink in our honor. Again, it may be that she treats every guest like they've been gone far too long, but I can fool myself into believing that she recognizes us. Maybe she does; it is a very small planet after all.