Backspace, Backspace, Bon Voyage: How We Accidentally Booked Europe.

We’re traveling again—only this time, “Neil the Northpoint” is staying home, and we’re not rumbling down some familiar highway in the United States or Canada. We’ve traded road miles for river kilometers and signed on for a 23-day European cruise from Amsterdam, to Bucharest, Rumania. It began one night well past midnight, when the house was quiet, good judgment had gone to bed, and I was glowing in the blue light of my computer screen, searching for an RV-like way to explore Europe. That was when I wandered onto the Viking River Cruises website, and discovered just how easy they make it to get carried away.

“Would you like a 7-, 14-, or 23-day cruise?” the website asked. Twenty-three days? If you’re going all the way to Europe, why not see Europe? Click. “Would you like to choose your cabin?” Of course. Upper deck, balcony—somewhere to sip coffee while castles, vineyards, and medieval villages drift past. Click. “Airfare and transfers?” Sensible. Click.  “Premium airfare?” Amsterdam is a long overnight flight, and these knees aren’t getting any younger. Click.  “Arrive early for a curated tour of the city?” Absolutely. Click. “Extend the trip to Transylvania and the land of Vlad the Impaler?” That’s the stuff of legends. Click. Then came the drinks package. Nope. Beer and wine were already included, Judy and I aren’t big drinkers, and we had to save a few shekels somewhere. Feeling downright responsible, I clicked past it—and the grand total appeared. I won’t share the exact number, but let’s just say it could have bought a very nice new car. The room suddenly felt warmer. I stared at the total, found the Backspace key, and began: backspace, backspace, backspace… Never mind. It was late. I should have gone to bed.

Fourteen months later, our long-awaited journey began—not quite as advertised. A historic drought had left the Rhine too low for Viking’s ships to travel the entire route, making ship swaps, motor-coach transfers, and unexpected hotel stays part of the adventure. We knew disruptions were likely, but decided to go, make the best of it, and enjoy every detour. That decision brought us to Noordwijk and the five-star Grand Hotel Huis ter Duin—and we’re very glad it did.

Royal Delft Ceramic Factory, Delft, The Netherlands

First excursion the following morning was to the historic Royal Delft Museum and factory. Stepping inside feels less like a standard museum tour and more like entering a time capsule. In a world dominated by automation and digital spreadsheets, this historic institution still relies entirely on the human hand. The most mind-blowing part of the visit? They have an entire department dedicated solely to the clay slurry recipe. This isn't a digital file backed up on a cloud server—it is a centuries-old recipe kept on handwritten paper. It takes a precise blend of roughly 10 raw materials (including kaolin, chalk, feldspar, and quartz) to create the perfect canvas for their art. Watching the master painters work under the glow of modern 21st-century lighting while practicing a technique unchanged since 1653 is stunning. They map out their designs using charcoal, then use specialized brushes made of marten and squirrel hair to freehand the details.

They paint using a black cobalt oxide mixture that looks dull at first. But when fired in the kiln at over 1,000°C, a dramatic chemical reaction occurs, transforming that black paint into the vibrant, world-famous Delft Blue. It is a beautiful reminder that some of the best things in the modern world don’t need an upgrade.

After Delft, we headed to Gouda. First things first for my fellow Americans: we are pronouncing it completely wrong. It isn’t "Goo-duh"—the locals call it "How-dah," using a raspy, guttural Dutch "G."

Making Stroopwafel at Berg's Bakery, Gouda The Netherlands

Learning the history inside an authentic cheese shop while practicing my pronunciation was a total blast. But the absolute highlight was diving into Gouda's other legendary creation: the stroopwafel! We stopped at Berg's Bakery, a fantastic local spot that bakes thousands of these sweet treats daily for the community. I actually got to step behind the counter to bake and taste an original stroopwafel with the owner himself (that's us in the photo!). Pressing the dough into the hot iron, slicing the steaming waffle, and sandwiching that warm cinnamon syrup inside was sticky, delicious, and pure magic. If you’ve only ever had the pre-packaged ones, trust me—you haven’t truly lived!

Steven with the Stroopwafle King. Gouda

Next up on day two was a quick, thought-provoking stop in The Hague to see the stunning Peace Palace. Driving by the sprawling international courts makes you stop and think, but standing right in front of the palace gates is entirely humbling. There is a profound, heavy irony to this beautiful building. Funded largely by American philanthropist Andrew Carnegie, it was built to house a grand international law library and promote global harmony. Yet, it officially opened in August 1913—just one single year before the devastating outbreak of World War I. Today, it still serves as a global beacon for international law. Looking at its grand towers through my camera lens, I couldn't help but think that over a century later, our world could still use a whole lot more peace. 

Peace Palace, the Hague, The Netherlands

Self-portrait, Vincent van Gogh, Rijksmuseum

Day three brought us into Amsterdam proper, and our first stop was the magnificent Rijksmuseum. The art is world-famous, but nothing prepared me for the building itself—a majestic cathedral dedicated to human creativity. Walking into the Gallery of Honour, with its vaulted ceilings, intricate frescoes, and golden light filtering through stained-glass windows, took my breath away. As much as I love the Louvre, the Rijksmuseum has an intimate grandeur all its own. The hall leads you past Vermeer’s luminous scenes and Frans Hals’ lively portraits to Rembrandt’s massive crown jewel, The Night Watch. Standing inches from those historic brushstrokes was unreal.

 

The Rijksmuseum in Amsterdam, The Netherlands

Leaving the museum, we traded the majestic cathedral of art for the watery highways that define the city. We hopped onto a 90-minute canal ride, and it quickly became obvious that these famous waterways function exactly like an everyday taxi system.

Floating the Canals of Amsterdam

Floating along, we passed endless houseboats—some sleek and hyper-modern, others hulking, charming messes overflowing with potted plants. Looking up from the water, you notice something surreal: the buildings lean forward and bow outward like old friends propping each other up. Amsterdam was built in the 1600s over soft sand and wet peat—great for agriculture, terrible for tall buildings—so builders drove thousands of wooden piles deep into the mud to keep the structures upright. Today, strict local laws favor stabilization and careful renovation over demolition. That engineering remains essential; without it, half the Netherlands would be underwater.

At the Wheel of Canal Boat, Amsterdam

Our aquatic taxi dropped us near the Renaissance Amsterdam Hotel, bringing us face-to-face with the fluid reality of traveling in the Low Lands. Because river levels were too low to begin the tour safely in town, Viking housed its incoming guests right there in Amsterdam—a striking reminder that life in the Netherlands remains tied to the whims of the water, just as it has for centuries.

For those who have followed the first 82 chapters of our journey, this post marks a major detour. Since our last adventure ended in April, the blog has been quiet while Judy and I adjusted to life off the road. We’re used to exploring the United States behind The Beast—our trusty GMC 3500 dually—spending 450 nights making weeklong deep dives from our luxury 5th wheel. Europe turned that style completely on its head. Instead of roaring down wide interstates, we drifted along 17th-century canals past leaning brick houses. We watched Royal Delft artists preserve a centuries-old craft, laughed over warm cinnamon syrup at Berg’s Bakery, and stood beneath the cathedral-like grandeur of the Rijksmuseum. Even when low water forced Viking to pivot and house us in Amsterdam, we smiled. Whether traveling by 5th wheel or riverboat, the landscape and transportation may change, but the joy of discovery remains the same, as we tell… the Rest of the Story.

By the way, if you want to see the video portions of this blog please see us on Instagram. Follow the link @couplescoachs23