Dutch? Netherlands? HOLLAND?

A quick lesson in what you should call Dutch people:

"The correct name for this tulip growing nation is the Netherlands. The confusion is understandable  The

general region has been renamed a lot over a thousand years, but it's not just the history that makes this country's name confusing. The Netherlands is divided into twelve provinces including (what makes the confusion) North and South Holland. So calling the Netherlands "Holland" is like calling the United Stated "Dakota". Though, unlike the Dakotas which are mostly empty, the two Hollands are densely populated and have some of the biggest attractions. Chances are if it's Dutch and you've heard of it, it's in one of the Hollands."
 The video I quoted this from is HERE. They are far funnier and go into much more information.

Now onto what actually happened there. One of the first things I noticed upon meeting Marijn's (Adorable Dutch boy's) dad who drove us from Groningen (Where the bus drops us off) to Huizen (where the family lives) is that Marijn got his use of cheesy compliments straight from his father. After an evening of being interviewed (almost what it felt like) by his lovely parents we went to sleep only to be up early the next morning and off to Delft!

Delft is a lovely city. It's the city where Marijn studied, and a city that reminds me of Amsterdam....but in a good way. It's smaller and less in your face about pot and sex (golly, Amsterdam was horrid about that) but it was still VERY DUTCH. Lovely all around.
At one point we had ducked into a shop so I could buy some postcards to send home (urm, I should actually send those...), and Marijn spotted some silver windmill earrings.
HE GOT SO EXCITED!
His logic:
1) They are very pretty and he wanted to buy me a pretty thing.
2) They will remind me of a cool place I traveled.
3) They will remind me of him (he studies wind energy).
They aren't something I would pick normally, but I love them simply because he loves them.

Oh golly let's talk about food now. Can we please please pleeeeeeeeeease talk about food now? PLEASE?
Okay good.
I have found my newest sweet tooth addiction. These huge waffle cookies are called stropwafle. They are thin waffle-like cookies with honey/caramel/syrup like stuff in the middle. They have the best texture in the world!
Interesting tidbit:
Marijn's dad pulled out a little jar of what's inside the cookie, called stroop, and put it on some bread Easter morning. He said he always puts it in his porridge. Guess it's a huge Dutch thing to use it for breakfasts!

The next item of food I had looked so nasty, I almost didn't like it totally based on the look. Imagine liquified meat rolled into a little cylinder then covered with bread crumbs. Once you order this delicacy, they throw it in some oil and fry it for you. Then roll it, piping hot, onto a bun and serve it up. Bam. Fried meat juice.
Sounds great, doesn't it? Ya know.... it actually was rather good! It's called broodje kroket. Just be careful, that liquid meat will burn the skin off your tongue before you realize how stupid it was to take a bite right away.

We walked around the market a bit longer (always go to a market!) I dragged Marijn through the two big churches in the city and got lots of pretty pictures.

One thing I thought was really cool, was this sign.
I know, you're telling me, "But, Alex, you can't speak Dutch! How can you find that sign remotely interesting?"
AH HA!
Let me unleash my secret weapon!
Well, I guess he's not much of a secret. I made Marijn translate it.
Sorry, anticlimactic, but it's quite funny. Here's what it says:

"Is your guy annoying?
Does he not want to shop?
Is he whining by the fitting room?
We are the ideal solution:
'THE FREE HUSBAND DAYCARE!'
Drop him off at "The Gallery"
We will care for him, you just pay for his snacks and drinks ;P "

Sounds like a good deal to me!

The next story sadly doesn't have any pictures to go with it. Marijn's mom slipped him some money on the way out the door with a wink and a, "take her somewhere nice."
Okay, it didn't happen quite like that, but I like my dramatic effect a lot more.
That evening, Marijn brought me to a very nice italian place where he almost had to translate the entire menu for me. Hey, at least his English will be really good after all this! I ended up getting a rather large pizza and proceeded to get hand cramps trying to use my knife and fork. I ended up giving him the last small bit simply because I was not going to pick it up and eat it. It was a personal challenge to eat the pizza like a European and I simply wasn't going to fail!

On Easter Sunday we wandered our way through the deserted streets of Groningen in search of a place that wasn't too crowded where we could purchase a simple cup of coffee. We stroll into this bar and take a seat at a table. After seeing a huge poster of the Red Hot Chili Peppers each wearing a single, strategically placed sock and then seeing some very interesting looking magazines lined up by the window I tell Marijn that we were in a gay bar.
He just looks around and shrugs (after all he is quite proud that the Netherlands were the first to legalize gay marriage). We had a lovely cup of coffee with the bartender and some very nice men brought in some decorated eggs for us to eat as well.  On our way out, Marijn turned around and walked backwards asking, "Okay, so how do you tell from the outside it's a gay bar-." He cut himself off because we both saw, proudly flying above the tables, a rainbow flag.
We must have needed that coffee because we did NOT see that on the way in.

On the way out of town, we stopped to get Subway (everything else was closed or far above our price range) and this dork ate the meal with a fork and knife.
Yeah, he's european alright!