Dec. 24, a.m.

Arrive in the Netherlands via European light rail transit, after an overnight train ride from Frankfurt by way of Luxembourg.

Sleep for one hour.

Wake to a traditional breakfast of room-temperature juice and milk, corn flakes and french fries with mayonnaise.

Examine bathroom for signs of anything that could be construed as a toilet.

Dress for adventure in dregs of last week's laundry, which is still slightly damp and mostly unidentifiable, thanks to the 32-bit encryption employed by sign makers in Parisian coin-operated laundromats.

Offer gracious host and hostess a choice of housewarming gifts: mostly shattered sculpture of a wooden bear purchased in Switzerland or half a box of butter cookies and a tin of Nutella.

Exit apartment and evade con-men and pickpockets long enough to lose life savings in state-sanctioned moneychanging scam.

Cause fourteen bike pile-up by mistakenly walking in a no-pedestrian zone, which affords a unique opportunity to experience the colorful local vernacular.

Arrive at train station.

Become separated from host and hostess in largest man-made train station on the continent, without even a rudimentary command of the native tongue.

Narrowly escape transit authorities after entering restricted area by posing as members of the Kelly Family.

Board day train to Germany with most of the original members of the expedition after locating host and hostess at American Tourist Lost and Found.

Dec. 24. p.m.

Arrive in Cologne after border-crossing nearly escalates to an international incident after the appearance of the real Kelly Family.

Wander aimlessly through the streets of Cologne, enjoying the stark post-WWII architecture and quaint little shops which are all closed for the holiday.

Nap quietly on museum bench until loudly evicted by the curator.

Stumble upon an authentic German restaurant and sit down to enjoy a Christmas feast consisting of sauerkraut, yearling cod, boiled potatoes, day-old bread and enough beer to run a frat haus.

Slip back through customs and into Amsterdam carrying a diplomatic pouch purchased at a German branch of Mailboxes, Etc.

Attempt to hail taxi in Amsterdam.

Straggle into Delft on foot, cursing Amsterdam municipal taxi system.

Return to apartment at 11:04, in time to savor a simple evening repast of leftover french fries with mayonnaise.

Exchange gifts, which consist mainly of badly drawn leaflets handed out by neo-Marxists in front of the Starbuck's in Amsterdam.

Climb into bed just before the stroke of midnight, hoping Santa can fit through the steam pipe in the basement and that if so, he really likes mayonnaise.

Chip Howland
howland@skypoint.com