Sunday, December 12, 2004
at break of day
breakfast, elsewhere, anywhere, is one of the true delights of travelling.
in france, i wake up anticipating my grand café crème and my croissant; in england, the very prospect of bacon and eggs and sausages and baked beans can make even an abominably early wake-up-call worthwhile. when i lived in israel, i relished the massive tomato-and-cucumber salads - tossed with eggs and cream cheese - that started my day.
why is it then, i wonder, that here in holland, after all these years, i still skip the
bread and ham and cheese that comprise the dutch ontbijt, and can barely manage
a cup of milky tea?