The big sick

Starting at birth, more than half of your body weight is composed of water. The average percentage of body weight that is water remains above 50 percent for most or all of your life, though it does decline over time.

I beg to differ.

After being sick for two weeks and nearly coughing up both lungs, I’m convinced my body is at least 70 percent water with a mucus chaser. Quite possibly even more.

That said – and with all due respect to my dear readers who may have just lost their lunch – we returned on September 22 from our long-awaited/twice postponed seven-day river cruise on the Rhine.

Fourteen days earlier, six of us from the metro-Detroit area — known as the “Broads Abroad” — flew nonstop from Detroit to Amsterdam. The outgoing flight was about 7.5 hours, give or take a decent tail wind. Coming home was nightmarish, replete with delays, layovers and four of us sick with one thing or another. Even I wouldn’t have wanted to sit next to me. But we prevailed over those nasty germs.

Five countries in 2 weeks

We started our adventure through five countries with a two-night, pre-cruise visit to Amsterdam. And we lived to tell about it, despite hundreds of kamikaze bicyclists with little regard for human life.

“Bikers here have no rules,” said one reassuring local guide. “Before crossing, look left, look right, and up and down. Then look again. They will kill you.”

Our ship was part of the AmaWaterways fleet, the same line we sailed in our 2019 “Taste of Bordeaux” river cruise through southwestern France. But this time, it was a different ship, the AmaMora, and a new focus: the Rhine Castles & Swiss Alps.

Built in 2019, the 443-foot long, 38-foot wide AmaMora is an incredible twin-balcony ship, which holds 156 passengers and 51 crew. We had just over 100 passengers aboard. Our first captain, Iwan Van Reede of the Netherlands, said we would travel more than 500 miles from Amsterdam to Basel, Switzerland, going through several locks as we sailed to destinations in Germany, France and Switzerland.

“On this voyage, we will sail ‘up’ the Rhine River, as it were,” the captain said, “even though we are heading north to south toward the Alps.”

We ended our journey with three nights at the Hilton in Como, Italy, and I lived to tell about that, too. Despite missing both touring days of Lake Como and Bellagio because I was sick as a dog locked in a dark hotel room — in what has become known as “the fire alarm incident” — I’d go back to northern Italy in a heartbeat. (More on that here in this sidebar.)

The Netherlands

Amsterdam

Before the river cruise, we spent two nights in Amsterdam, the capital and most populous city of the Netherlands. We stayed in the city’s center, bordering the trendy east neighborhood, at the five-star Hyatt Regency Amsterdam. We loved its post-modern decor and environmentally-conscious feel (with walls made of living green plants!) and the fact that most of the staff spoke English, not Dutch.

Stupid American aside: The Dutch language is not for sissies. Example: “Goedemorgen. Hoe gaat het met je? En waar is de badkamer?” And that’s how you get to Chicago.

The Anne Frank House

After checking into our hotel, we visited the Anne Frank House located on a canal in central Amsterdam. We had booked our timed tickets well in advance online and were glad we did. The museum draws millions of visitors each year, and the lines were long.

Deeply somber, the house is a museum with a story, and visitors experience this story through quotes, photos, videos and original items. Photography is not allowed inside. In 1940, Otto Frank, Anne’s father, rented the entire building, main house and annex for his jam-making business. Of the eight people in hiding, he was the only one to survive the war.

In 1942 during World War II, Anne Frank hid from Nazi persecution with her family and four others in hidden rooms in the rear building of the 17^th-century house. Acting on a tip from an informer, the Gestapo captured Anne, then 15, and her family, in 1944. In early 1945, Anne and her sister Margot contracted typhus, which first took Margot and then Anne. She was 16. Her poignant diary was published in 1947.

Walking through the house, I tried to imagine what it was like for the Frank family to spend two years living in the Secret Annex, as it became known, on the second and third floors. Living in constant fear of being discovered. Never able to go outside. Remaining quiet all day to avoid detection by workers in the warehouse below.

At one point, I was moved to tears.

The only way to enter the hiding place was through a secret entrance hidden behind a revolving bookcase. But first we had to walk up steep, narrow steps. I could barely pull myself up to step inside the attic and climb the staircase.

I’ll relate a more hopeful anecdote amid this sadness: The nice young man who checked our tickets was from Amsterdam, but he said he wished he was born in the USA. “But in a Blue state, not a Red state!” he said with a grin. (We tipped him well.)

We told him our home state, Michigan (as of this moment), was considered to be a Purple state, sort of a hybrid Red-Blue.

“Shouldn’t they all be?” he asked. Out of the mouths of babes.

Dutch treats and eats

No offense, but the Dutch aren’t exactly known for their food. Take bitterballen. (Please. Take it. Now.) Loosely translated, it means “bitter balls,” but they’re not bitter at all, which is the best thing I can say about them.

Bitterballen are/is a Dutch meat-based snack, made by making a very thick stew thickened with roux and beef stock, generously loaded with meat, then refrigerating the stew until it firms. You roll the mixture into balls, which are breaded and fried. Serve with a lot of beer.

But a Dutch stroopwafel? Now you’re talkin! A stroopwafel is a thin, round waffle cookie made from two layers of sweet baked dough held together by caramel filling. First made in the city of Gouda in South Holland, stroopwafels are a well-known Dutch treat. Serve warm. Two thumbs up!

Reunion after 35 years

Killer bicyclists and unusual appetizers aside, I loved Amsterdam. Why? Because I got to visit with my old (and I mean that) friend Greg Coppoletta, who worked with me back in 1983-1986 in Miami Beach at something called Viewtron, the world’s first videotext service. (Shopping, banking and news at your fingertips right in your home. Nobody cared. Who knew?)

He was an “IT guy,” and I worked as a copy editor in the newsroom. Greg was one of the funniest people I had ever met. Still is.

We reconnected on the Book of Face (Facebook) a couple of years ago when Rebecca and I had first planned our river cruise. Then it was postponed in 2020 due to COVID-19, and again in 2021. But we still kept in touch.

I wasn’t sure we’d ever actually get to meet in person, but thankfully we did.

From his home in Amsterdam, a very fit Greg rode his bicycle (of course) to our hotel, about a 30-minute ride. When we returned from our Amsterdam walking tour, he was sitting waiting in the lobby – wearing a sleeveless Viewtron T-shirt. About the only thing left of that $50 million venture.

“Greg,” I said. “Is that really you?”

“JinnyJohn! Yes, it’s really me!” he said grinning that familiar grin.

He always called me by my nickname and surname together as if they were one word. JinnyJohn!

We embraced and then talked for three hours straight. It was as if we had just spoken the week before — instead of 35 years ago. When Viewtron folded in 1986, some of us stayed in Florida and found other jobs nearby.

Greg left for an IT job in Amsterdam and never looked back. He still visits family in South Florida several times a year, but he loves living in Holland.

He hasn’t changed a bitch, I mean, bit. “You look the same,” he lied. “Your hair is just shorter.” (Lovely man.)

Thank goodness for Facebook Messenger. (Yes, I just typed that.)

More Amsterdam sights

“Coffee shops” (puff, puff): From Dominique, our Dutch guide who gave us the bicyclist warning: “You will notice a lot of coffee shops in Amsterdam. They are not for drinking coffee. Coffee shops are places to smoke pot,” she explained, offering “drink” tickets to our group. (I’m kidding about the tickets.) As you may or may not know, marijuana has been decriminalized in the Netherlands, so consuming weed is tolerated, but it’s not legal. Cannabis café, anyone?

The Red Light District: After walking the streets of Amsterdam like sex workers on a Saturday night, we finally found it. Hours of my life I’ll never get back. And the startling vision of a very tall, scantily-clad sex worker who leaned out an open doorway trying to entice three young dudes inside: “Aye, Papi!” They ran away. So did we.

National Holocaust Names Monument: Our tour group walked quietly through this labyrinth of passages comprised of 6.5-foot-high brick walls of remembrance near the Jewish Quarter in Amsterdam’s city center. Opening just last year, the memorial’s 102,000 inscribed bricks – each bearing the name of a victim –  presents a moving yet tangible vision of Dutch Jews who were killed by the Nazis during the Holocaust. Also, the Netherlands has about 8,500 stolpersteine, or “stumbling stones,” the brass memorial plaques embedded in the street to commemorate Holocaust victims. The stumbling stones are placed in front of the houses where victims had lived.

Floriade Expo 2022: Day 2 aboard the ship, we enjoyed a canal tour and a special visit to Almere for an event that only happens every 10 years. Floriade, an international horticulture exhibition, opened April 14 and runs through October 9. If you like flowers, gardens and are interested in the sustainability of our planet, this expo is for you. More photos below.

Germany

Cologne

Day 3 aboard: The Holy City City walking tour took us through the heart of Cologne, known as “Köln” to locals, with a visit to the Cathedral. Cologne was destroyed in World War II, but the Cathedral was spared. Our guide, Ashley from Iowa (!), said the area receives 197 days of rain a year. Mother Nature didn’t cooperate with us, and it poured pretty steadily during most of our tour, but that gave us a good reason to wear our brand new hooded raincoats. Celeb aside: Ashley said singer Tina Turner and model Heidi Klum have homes here.

Rhine Gorge and Rüdesheim

Day 4 aboard was nearly a full day of scenic cruising, with dozens of castles along the Rhine. Castles, castles and more castles! Once considered medieval highways, these castles provided protection and taxes from merchants. There are more than 40 along the Rhine. We saw 13 on our tour that morning. My favorite was Burg Maus (Mouse Castle), obviously because of the name, as well as the historical rivalry between the Catholic Church and the nearby castle, Burg Katz. Cat and mouse, get it?

Later, we went to a wine tasting in Rüdesheim, where sweeter white Reisling is king and queen. “You prefer red? We don’t care,” said our host Adolph, a self-described “cheeky bastard.” We’d rather toast with Rüdesheimer Kaffee anyway. Brandy, sugar cubes and a cool cup. Our day was capped off with a gondola (is it “GON-dole-uh” or “gon-DOLE-uh”?) ride above the area’s glorious vineyards. Prost!

Ludwigshafen

Day 5: Next stop Ludwigshafen, famous for chemical giant BASF, Mannheim (as in Steamroller) and Carl Benz, as in the inventor of the first car. Oh, and spaghetti ice cream. (Better than it sounds.) Our Romantic Heidelberg excursion took us by coach ride to another enormous castle complex on a hill and the city center, home of Heidelberg University, the oldest in Germany. Our guide, Ava, had some good stories, but for the life of me, I can only recall one about star-crossed lovers Frederick and Elizabeth. They fell in love, married in 1613, he bought her a gate for her gardens, then he died young and left her with 13 children. Not very romantic. My memory was probably overcome with brain fog after barely surviving the uneven ground and cobblestones in the old town!

France

Strasbourg

On the French side of the Rhine sits Strasbourg, a city that is 2,000 years old and the capital of Alsace. You’ve likely heard of Alsace Lorain? This area has had a yo-yo history of being French then German and French again, according to our guide, Camille, who took us on a wonderful Gem of Alsace tour. There’s a lot of folklore in this area as well. We saw enormous nests in trees in a residential area. No, not eagles or osprey or velociraptors. These nests were built by … storks.

In this beautiful city, storks have a special place in the locals’ hearts. The white, large-billed birds, known for carrying newborn babies, will bring you one if you put sugar cubes on your window sill. One baby, one cube. Two cubes, two babies. If you don’t want any babies, put out butter so the stork goes elsewhere. I swear I am not making this up. Another cool thing about Strasbourg is the stunning astronomical clock. (Google it. You won’t be sorry.)

Our second guide, Minnie, took us on a visit to Alsace, where signs are in French and Alsatian, and even a TV station that airs in the local dialect. The cost of college here is 150 euros, about $150, a year. That’s right. And bicyclists here? “They don’t try to kill you, but they won’t care if they do,” Minnie said.

Switzerland

Basel

We reached our last port of call in Basel, a city situated near the borders of Switzerland, Germany and France. Its glorious past is still evident in its 16th-century town hall and richly decorated market square. We took the City of Art walking tour with our guide, Nathalie, who walked so fast that I almost tossed my cookies. Good grief. (Fun fact: Did you know that tennis great Roger Federer hails from Basel? He does.)

Lucerne

Located in the German-speaking part of Switzerland, Lucerne is known for its medieval architecture. It sits amid snowcapped mountains on Lake Lucerne. Its famous landmark is the 1300s wooden bridge with a grand stone water tower and roof decorated with 17th-century art. Our half-day tour of Lucerne was punctuated by four of us getting thrown out of a chocolate shop by a teen-age manager after we unknowingly ordered our coffee as “take away” and not “I’m gonna eat it right here and pay twice as much to do so.” Who knew? Apparently, everyone except us. Oh, and they gladly took our euros but gave change only in Swiss francs. Nobody wants francs.

After the previous day’s speed-walking Basel tour, we finally got wise to slow the pace and opted for “Gentle Walkers.” Our guide, Eliane, was a lovely woman with a keen sense of fashion. Unfortunately, it was Sunday and most/all of the shops in Lucerne were closed. Not that chocolate shop, though.

Bellinzona

This city in the Italian-speaking part of Switzerland is at the foot of the Swiss Alps. Bellinzona has more of an Italian feel than Swiss. Known for its three medieval castles, including the hilltop Castelgrande, Sasso Corbaro and Montebello, Bellinzona is the capital of the Ticino region. It’s idyllic. Peaceful. Skirted by the towering Alps. As my sister Corky whispered to me while we were standing in the town’s Piazza del Sole: “I’m home.” Indeed. I had the same feeling. Maybe it’s because our mother was born in a town called Biella in northern Italy’s Piedmont region. We were so close to that area. Just about two hours away. Someday I’m going to see it in person.

Italy

Como and Bellagio

My time in this beautiful part of northern Italy didn’t turn out as planned. Sick in a hotel bed for two days, I missed the Como walking tour and funicular ride up to Brunate, and the Pearl of Lake boat ride to Bellagio. Dang! But this isn’t a pity party. Life hands you lemons, and you make … limoncello? Or you turn a disappointing couple of days into a funny (I hope) sidebar. Read all about it here.

My cousin Mauro

I traveled 4,300 miles to meet a cousin I’d only conversed with on Facebook Messenger for the past three years. We learned about each other’s lives, sent photos and somehow managed to communicate.

He ended every message with this phrase: “L’Italia ti aspetta.” Translation: Italy waits for you.

It took three years, but we finally made it!

Did I mention he doesn’t speak English? And I don’t speak Italian well enough to understand his fast-talking personality. But “talk” we did, for nearly four hours outside the Hilton Lake Como hotel using one of the greatest inventions ever known to man, woman or beast: the Google Translate app.

Rebecca, my sister Corky and I could barely contain our excitement as he walked up to the hotel’s veranda. “Ciao,” said our cugino, Mauro Quaglia, in person at last. We embraced the way you hug someone you’ve known for a hundred years. I think I even got misty-eyed and held on a bit longer than I should have. Corky beamed with delight. She had met him more than 20 years ago on a previous trip to Italy.

Here’s how we’re related: Our maternal grandmothers (Nonna in Italian) were sisters from Biella in Andorno Micca in the Piedmont region. Our Nonna, Domenica Bonino Guella, lived to be 89 and died in 1980. Mauro’s “nonna,” Rita Bonino Quaglia, died suddenly in 1963.

So our cousin Mauro never knew her because he was born in 1964. His grandfather, Umberto Quaglia, never remarried.

Mauro, 58, lives in Settimo Milanese, a city just west of Milan, with his wife, Marisa. Their daughter, Aurora, 22, attends law school. His brother, Luca, 53, lives in nearby Bergamo.

He’s been a longtime police officer (not the local carabinieri, he clarifies) and worked tirelessly during the height of the COVID-19 pandemic as it raged across northern Italy’s Lombardy region where he lives. An emotional man, Mauro knows how dark life can become.

But he’s also a fun-loving regular guy who skis with his family in the Dolomite Mountains, enjoys good food and red wine, and even rode his Honda motorcycle an hour to meet us at the hotel.

And he’s a good son. After our visit, he was driving a half-hour to see his ailing mother, who’s in her 80s.

“You must come back, Jennifer. See the Amalfi Coast, Capri and Sicily,” Mauro said, adding this familiar phrase as he sped away: “L’Italia ti aspetta.”

Italy won’t have to wait as long next time, that’s for sure.

Some final thoughts …

Bring fewer, more casual clothes.

Ditch the dressy stuff. Mix and match to coordinate a couple of nice outfits. No one’s reviewing what you wear.

Just take a carry-on bag and a tote. No worries about lost checked luggage. You can do it!

Live a little: Use the ship’s laundry service. It’s cheaper than you think.

Consider the “gentle walker” excursions. You’re not 40 any more. Or 50. Or …

Live a little more: As my Uncle Jake said, “Go first class, or your kids will.”

And try not to get sick, OK? Ciao, bellas!