|2.7 x 7.2 x 1.2 cm|
In 1995, I rode my bike through Europe with Hunter and Kacy. Hunter and I got there a week before Kacy, and on his second day of riding, we pushed a bit hard and went about 60 miles. Kacy hit a wall, so we stopped in the middle of nowhere, Netherlands. Also known as Hedel.
The first restaurant we found had an outdoor patio inhabitated by a table full of semi-young and thick Dutchmen. We couldn't tell if they were interested in talking with us or laughing at us.
12 hours, 16 beers, and dancing-to-a-Dutch-band-covering-American-pop-while-in-bike-shoes-at-the-county-fair later, we still weren't sure.
When we woke up after 4 or 5 hours of sleep on Jaime's floor, he had already left for work at the bakery. His mom was there. She didn't speak English, but she was a true saint. All she said was: "Jaime no here; work. You want aspirin?"