An eventful rijstaffel

Our last night in Amsterdam Alan had planned to treat us all to a magnificent rijstaffel dinner, a kind of Indonesian feast with lots of little dishes.  This was something he was really looking forward to, and “Eat rijstaffel” is one of the activities on the game sheet for the boys (thanks, Julie!!)  Now that Sharon and Mitchell had joined us in Holland, Alan asked the concierge to make a reservation at an Indonesian restaurant that offered vegetarian rijstaffel. It was an easy walk from the hotel, and we set off.  We needed to get to Spui, which is not actually “Spooey” but “Spow,” follow the tram lines as they doglegged left and then take a smaller street for half a block. 

The boys were walking with each other, talking about D&D, I was walking with Alan, and Sharon and Mitchell were walking together.  At one point we realized Mitchell & Sharon were not with us, so we waited until they appeared.  Then we walked a bit farther, to Spui where we needed to turn, looked back, and saw Mitchell but not Sharon.  This was mystifying.  Where had she gone?  Alan and the boys stopped and waited.  I went ahead on the possibility she had gone straight instead of following the curve  of the main road, but it quickly hit a dead end, a canal, & I had no way of guessing if she might have gone left or right.  Mitchell went to the drugstore about 20 yards back where he’d paused to see if they had earplugs to see if she was waiting for him there.  We didn’t imagine she had continued on Spui because she would have had to walk right past us.  She didn’t have her phone.  We weren’t sure if she knew any of our cell phone #s or the name of the hotel.  We didn’t know what to do. 

Finally Alan told us to just go into the restaurant; he would keep looking & then proceed to the hotel in the hope she could get back there.  The manager was miffed that we four were taking up six seats in his busy restaurant, but Mitchell, with uncharacteristic optimism, insisted we needed our reserved table for six.  And we sat down and ordered vegetarian rijstaffel.  Here was the view from our table across out the back window of the restaurant:

And after we had been there 10 or 15 minutes, Mitchell made an inarticulate noise, jumped up, and raced out of the restaurant at full speed.  The boys and I sat with bated breath.  Could Mitchell actually have seen Sharon walk by the back of the restaurant, through the bamboo & potted plant-occluded window?  Was it possible?  Let me repeat:  This was the view we had of the canal street behind the restaurant:

We didn’t have long to wait.  A few minutes later Mitchell returned with Sharon in tow.   He had reached Alan by cell phone, and he was on his way; he told us to order some rijstaffel for them.  And shortly thereafter we were all reunited.  Alan looked out the window and shook his head.  “It is absolutely amazing that you saw her,” he told Mitchell.  I had already said much the same thing.  “Thanks a LOT,” Sharon said, adding, “Why did you walk so darned fast?”  The moral of the story is:  If you are traveling in a strange city, take your cell phone, know the name of your hotel, don’t leave the hotel without cab fare, and do your level best to stay with your companions.