Les Nouvelles Fleurs Jaunes

In order to meet the Patriottentijid, there were many secret pathways and secret codes we had to decipher successfully otherwise we would be sent back to France and be turned over to Robespierre and suffer the Guillotine.  We began the day on a boat ride down one of the dykes that keep many of the land areas in Amsterdam dry.   Sailing past farms that were several feet below sea level in a rain storm when the water level was already at the top of the dykes was nerve wracking for me.  I don't know how the farmers live like that.  They would need far more than just a single little boy if any of the dykes actually did spring a leak.  It appeared to me they were only a two inch rain-storm away from utter disaster.

The successful passage of the first test on the boat ride introduced us to our secret Patriottenijid guide.  He was an obvious revolutionary with the trademark bushy mustache and disheveled hair.  I have not graduated to the disheveled hair phase of revolutionary-ism,  but I've got the bushy mustache down just as well as this glorious specimen. 

Our revolutionary guide dropped us off at Keukenhof for the most difficult test yet.  We had to navigate a treacherous maze of hedgerows.  These hedgerows were thought by military minds to be impenetrable, and defenses often focused on more exposed areas.  But we were like Rhino Tanks and cut our way through them.  This allowed us to meet our rendezvous at the old windmill.  It became easy after that and our pathway was freshly manicured grass lined by tulips.  It is the safest we have felt in days.

We made it to a large body of water where we received our final clue letting us know that we were both on the correct path, and still had more work to do.  The color was like the gilets jaunes.  Most importantly, it was not Orange like the Prince of Orange we were helping to conspire against.   We have more work to do tomorrow...