
I come to Holland regularly because my very very old mother lives here. I usually spend the first few days after my arrival in a je-tlagged semi-fog as I try to adjust to the minuscule size of practically everything around me. The car rental has a car ready for me which is the size of a large bumper car. I ask the attendant to help me shove my suitcase in the back and to instruct me on how to use the endless buttons on the dashboard. European cars may be small but they sure make up for it in complexity. The numerous scuff marks on the garage wall tell me that I am not the only one that has difficulty squeezing my bumper car through the narrow exit ramp onto the even tinier main road. I have to get used to the speed at which people drive their vehicles over here. The smallest hesitation elicits angry honking. Don't they know I just stepped off an airplane? That I come from a place where things aren't shrunk to Alice in Wonderland proportions? Read more...