In travel, there are moments of divine serendipity. Or rather, there can be if we allow them to happen. True, that does require a willingness to venture beyond our normal comfort-zone. But if we do, the rewards can be profound.
Amsterdam waterfront cafe
Amsterdam waterfront cafe

My mate and I discovered this in a huge way during our recent European excursion. His business took us to several of the EU’s most famous locales – London, Paris, Amsterdam, and Zurich – where as expected, we enjoyed stellar cuisine and world-class service. Afterwards, engaged in the serious “vacation” portion of our itinerary in the Burgundy region of France, the fabulous food and eager-to-please attitude proffered by the locals was in even greater evidence. Yet it was serendipity that seemed to guide our whole adventure.

In London (where admittedly we spent much of the time recovering from jet-lag, and marveling that an entire country of tobacco devotees would be going smoke-free on July 1st), we discovered that the outstanding J. Sheekey restaurant (www.j-sheekey.co.uk/) where my husband had made reservations for our fifth-anniversary dinner – was also in Covent Garden, just a couple of blocks from our hotel on The Strand. This elegant seafood establishment is one of London’s finest (and priciest, but we opted to toss caution to the winds for the evening). Its owners also operate The Ivy, Le Caprice, and Daphne’s, and just purchased the venerable Annabel’s nightclub.

The presentation of the food (by efficient, dark-suited waiters, who scurried about the wood-paneled dining room) was astounding. Doug’s “shellfish bar” arrived in a two-tiered rack, with enough crustaceans to feed a small country; my tender, fist-sized scallops were still connected to their original shells, and were accompanied by wild asparagus no bigger than pieces of twine. A bottle of 2003 Clos du Cremin Meursault provided the ideal foreshadowing to the Burgundy leg of our trip; our vanilla cheesecake with roasted apricots ended our anniversary celebration in suitable style.

Not knowing much about Amsterdam (aside from its vaunted red-light district), we were delighted to connect with the proprietress of our bed-and-breakfast, the genial Nessie. An American ex-pat, she has converted her second-floor flat into a B&B (www.boogaardsbnb.com/gardenviewbnb.php) that’s ideal for travelers. She offers as much or as little sightseeing counsel as her guests may desire, and loans maps, bus schedules, museum passes, and other documents that enable easy discovery of the city’s points of interests. Located a couple of blocks from the tram, with a hearty continental breakfast included in the very reasonable rate of 75 Euro per night, Nessie’s Garden View Bed and Breakfast turned out to be the perfect home base during our stay in Amsterdam.
Braised salmon at Brasserie Flo
Braised salmon at Brasserie Flo

Inevitably, we found ourselves strolling by the “ladies in the windows.” It was fascinating to discover that Amsterdam’s licensed sex-workers begin their shifts fairly early: by 7 p.m., many are already at their posts. To be sure, the neighborhood is a bit rough around the edges. But there’s a cheerful acceptance of the commerce being conducted beyond the windows that somehow buoys up its inherent tawdriness. We were intrigued observers … and just as happy to move on after a loop around the district. Seeing thousands of locals commuting via bicycle daily, it was hard to imagine why this mode of transport hasn’t caught on to a much greater degree at home, given the current price of gas. Everyone – all dressed in office attire – climbs astride a bike morning and evening to get to and from work.

Our Parisian visit brought us into contact with Francois, one of Doug’s colleagues, who offered to host us at dinner. When his first choice proved booked until 10 p.m. Francois hailed cab, and we were whisked off down a series of twisting cobblestone roads to Brassierie Flo (http://www.floparis.com/) and to an unexpected gastronomique celebration.

Among the highlights of the lengthy meal: my braised salmon over vegetables, topped with a creamy herb sauce. Doug’s lamb noisettes were done to a perfect turn, and arrived with crunchy green beans and a plump stewed tomato. We shared a bottle of 2004 Saint-Emilion Bordeaux (fortunately, our host was picking up the tab). Cheese, chocolate, and après-dinner drinks appeared and disappeared. We needed a long walk home to work off this long evening of debauchery.
Locals enjoy Tobel Hof atmosphere.
Locals enjoy Tobel Hof atmosphere.

Zurich connected us with Thomas, another of Doug’s colleagues, who resides in Lucerne. He and a co-worker escorted us to Tobel Hof, a hilltop restaurant in Gockhausen, where we ate family-style on picnic-tables outdoors. Our appetizer of prosciutto and melon brought a massive supply of each; the impending arrival of locally made sausages and fried potatoes brought groans from Doug and me, to the extreme amusement of our hosts.

During the meal, Thomas urged us to take a boat-ride on Switzerland’s inner lake region. Back at our hotel, Doug and I were inclined to sidestep the invitation. But something about Thomas’s earnestness compelled us to accept, so we cut our Zurich trip short, hopped a train to Lucerne, and were on board a 100-year-old paddle steamship the next day. Thank you, serendipity.
Swiss countryside viewed from the boat.
Swiss countryside viewed from the boat.

During our cruise we learned that Thomas’s father had been instrumental in the preservation and renovation of the Vier Waldstattersee’s five historic ships that traverse the lakes daily. Thomas himself possessed encyclopedic information about all of the vessels, having logged countless hours on the water with his father throughout his childhood. He and his boss (who also accompanied us) and their wives encouraged us to order lunch and a light, crisp Swiss wine during our four-hour voyage. They also acted as our unofficial tour-guides, pointing out various landmarks amongst the spectacular scenery as we floated by. It was a delightful experience we would never have had on our own; we were quickly learning to be open to what the universe might place before us.

 

Editor’s note: In Taking a Chance, Part II Marianne will tell of the Burgundian part of her recent trip.


Marianne Lucchesi Hamilton has been a journalist for over 20 years, and writes regularly about food, wine, entertainment, and technology. She is also the owner of Los Gatos-based Lucchesi Communications, which provides marketing writing and editorial services. She can be reached at lucchesicomm@earthlink.net.