No, I've just been suffering the plight of all immigrants around the world: beaurecratic red tape. Nina and I have been from one office to another in an effort to be legitimate residents of the countries.

We also learned that our apartment has no phone line. Notice I did not write that we were without a phone, I wrote that there was no phone line. There is heat and indoor plumbing, however, so my ass is at least warm while it's sore.

Plus the phone was a problem even if we had a line, because we are not yet residents. Yet every office asks for our phone number. I wonder if these folks talk to one another.

However, everyone has been very nice. Without a miniscule amount of Dutch we have communicated well with everyone, and they have told us what to do next.

Great, but we seem to be doing a lot of work without acheiving anything.

Which put me in a mood to spend some money. You can always get instant results if you spend some money.

That's exactly what I did after some red-tape tango yesterday. I bought that big ticket item needed to get around town in Holland: a bicycle. Yes, ik heb een fiets and I love it. Quick gratification and quite a bit of fun.

Ironically though, that cure for the pain in the ass, brought an even bigger pounding. No, no, no, I got a pretty good deal on the bike; what I'm talking about is the sore butt from riding the damn bike.

Delft is great in that there are bike lanes everywhere. But some civic planners sick sense of humor paved most of them with bricks instead of good old asphalt. After bouncing around all afternoon on that you can bet I could due with some good old fashioned walking this morning.

Which was good, because it rained today, anyway.

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