What the EF is Efteling?

I began accumulating these "€10 Kortings Coupons" after a few trips to the Albert Heijn grocery store.  Of course, I had no idea what they were or how to use them.  But rather than asking in broken English like a normal expat, I would just nod my head at the cashier girl and she would hand me another coupon. After the fourth blank stare head nod, I worked up the courage to ask what exactly I was receiving.

At first the cashier was a bit startled by my English; my regular checkout gal wasn't working that day.  She "explained me" that the coupons were for Efteling.  Oh, okay, that clears things up, of course Efteling.  WHAT THE EF WAS EFTELING?!?  She could see my look of befuddlement with her explanation, so she proceeded to ask her cashier colleague in the next lane over "Efteling in Engles?"  Her colleague couldn't translate so she proceeded to shout down to the next cashier.  I was slowly becoming part of an odd game of "Whisper Down the Supermarket Checkout Lanes."  I was mortified.  Everyone was looking at the goofy American wearing a Phillies hat.  I was thinking to myself:  "This Efteling thing better be ef-ing fantastic."   Now the entire row of checkout girls were all shouting in Dutch to each other.  I thought I overheard one of them say "roller coaster," but she was about five lanes down. As they continued chattering and laughing, a fellow shopper came to my aid with the following words: "Amusement Park."  A-HA!  Now I remembered.  Efteling is like the Dutch DisneyWorld and these were coupons for discount admission to the park.  Brilliant!  I thanked that kind Dutch man and the entire staff of the Albert Heijn for their translation assistance with a sincere "Dank u wel" and walked home.  

Voiceover:  "Dan Szostek, you were just in the most embarrassing/most awesome Albert Heijn checkout experience of your life.  What are you going to do now?"

Me:  "I'M GOING TO EFTELING!" 

EDITOR'S NOTE:  After reading a few TripAdvisor reviews we decided it wasn't for us.  It does seem to be a nice place for families, thrill ride seekers and people who like stage shows with pyrotechnics; but honestly this wizard guy creeped me out .  Decide for yourself at http://www.efteling.com/

Screenshot from efteling.com with creepy wizard.

Friday Fail: Supermarket Edition

We've been doing so well adjusting to our new "home."  But just when you think you've mastered a simple task such as going to your Dutch grocery store; life comes and bites you in the ezel.

An Ezel

It was a routine shopping trip for tonight's dinner menu, lemon chicken. I  breezed up the produce aisle snagging the last head of broccoli; there was a guy next to me that had his eye on it too, but I was the victor!  As a reward I decided to pick up a La Trappe Tripel, one of my favorite Trappists and brewed in the Netherlands.  Fighting temptation to buy a few more brews, I moved on to the cheese counter, to snap two free samples of Jong Belegen (young belgian) [EDITOR'S NOTE: It was politely pointed out to me I miss translated "Belegen;" it's not "Belgian." See the comment below for correct translation].  Then a quick turn down the wine aisle. There I had to leap over a women's cart who was blocking the entire shelf of Albert Heijn (AH) box wine.  That was it, I was done; off to checkout.

Friday, at 5:30pm usually finds the AH busy with shoppers, and tonight was no exception.   But for some reason I found myself slipping right into the "Pin Only;" no cash, lane with no line.  Could this really be happening?  Placing my items on the belt with a sense of confidence I then handed in my AH bonus card.  Then it hit me.  I FORGOT MY PIN CARD.  I was trapped; another shopper began to place their items on the belt.  Now what?  The sweat began to build on my forehead.  I then tried to explain in broken English how I forgot my pin and started collecting my items. This brought great amusement to the checker.  So I figured no worries I'd jump in the cash lane; only one problem, NO EUROS either.  BLAST!

So again in broken English, I ask the same checker if it was ok to leave my basket and return with my card.  Smiling, since she witnessed my entire conversion from confidence to cowardice she agreed. I then sleeked out of the store, pulled my Philles hat down, and started a light jog back to the apartment. Lucky, I was sporting my Adidas track suit, so it added to my quickness.

Upon my return, the check out girl was ready for me, I think she was "impressed with my speed." Too embarrassed to look her in the eye and out of breath I tried to say "dank u wel" or "thank you" but the words came out jumbled, I have no idea what I said.

Defeated, I began to walk out with my purchases but not without first giving a friendly wave to my friend the Afghani Olive Salesmen. He was with customers so I didn't interrupt him.  Besides, I just wanted to get back and forget about this trip.

On the bright side, I'm guessing the jog back and forth worked off those free samples of cheese.

ADVENTURES IN DUTCH GROCERY SHOPPING.

It takes moving to a new place to really get you thinking about how much you take your local grocery store for granted.  Like, first off, you know where it’s located, that’s huge.  

After a number of failed Google Mapping attempts to find our nearest grocery store in Oss, Vicki asked the nice man who works in the round little booth right outside our apartment where the grocery store was located.  (Yes, there’s this round booth thing right outside our door equipped with a pay toliet and a man, sometimes men, who sit there all day.  We assume their job is to give out information.  However, I’ve noticed them giving out tickets to folks who park their bikes in the adjacent racks.  Maybe I’ll dedicate a post just to these guys in the booth.)

Turns out the Albert Heijn, grocery store, was just a few blocks away.  Which was great because we don’t have a car here so we’re hoofing it places (until we get bikes!)  I would absolutely LOVE to get access to the security footage of me bumbling my way around the store on that Friday afternoon.  Here I am picking up familiar and unfamilar items off the shelves and using Google to translate the labels.  That was until I lost signal right around  the milk aisle, which just like home is located in the way back of the store. So there I was staring at the dairy case trying to decipher the Dutch translation for skim milk.  

But some things need no translation.  Like store brand BOX WINES!  I couldn’t believe it.  Now, for readers outside the state of Pennsylvania, USA you have to understand where I’m coming from with this one.  Our State’s Liquor Control Board mandates that we can only buy wine & spirits in State run stores.  We also have to buy beer (buy the case) from separate beer distributors or in bars/pubs/cafes (these purchases have limitations).  So anytime I’m able to buy a bottle (or a box!) of wine from a grocery store I get a little giddy.

One thing I’m still a little unnerving is the fact that a grocery store has hamsters as their mascot.  They’re everywhere!  But, the little fur balls advertise great prices so I’m not complaining.