Back to the Great White North

‘made it back to Maastricht, and wow is it *cold*.  And snowy.  And grey. It makes me wonder if I took a left passing through Atlanta rather than progressing on across the Atlantic as intended.  I half expect to find the McKenzie brothers stocking up on Molson at the AH.

The trip back was uneventful; planes were largely on time despite the weather worries, and, since the flights were empty, I got more sleep than expected.  The Dutch were short of trains on arrival so the Intercity from Utrecht to Maastricht was a standing-room-only local pressed into service at rush hour.  A Dutch friend tells me that NS has problems with over 70% of their trains, so it’s not surprising that some go out of service when it gets wintery.

The cold feels biting, even through winter clothes; fingers get numb in a minutes without gloves on the bike and the streets are largely deserted.  A bit of Bob and Doug’s brew would be welcome.

  And, fortunately, there’s exactly that respite beginning all around town.