Let’s rent a canal boat. Sure, sounds fun. No sooner were we pushed away from the dock, than it started to rain. Just a sprinkle. We headed for cover under a bridge with a few other boats. "We can’t just sit here, let’s go see what there is to be seen" says Laura. With that, we started to paddle, and the heavens opened up.

The rain slowed, then stopped. The sun broke free from behind the clouds. I got the hang of steering the boat. We began really enjoying our little pedal-powered tour of the canals. We went under bridges. We chased ducks. We took pictures. We got shot at. Yes, shot at.

Let me explain. It seems we came upon two little boys playing soldiers. They were of course shooting at one another with their little, hand-made blow guns (sort of like a blow tube, but with a handle). They were quick to realize that we were a much easier (and more entertaining) target. After a few shots that fell woefully short of our craft, they became more and more determined (O.K., so I may have taunted them just a bit). Fortunately for us, their range was limited to the amount of air and force their small lungs could produce. Unfortunately for us, there was a bridge ahead under which we would have to pass under to return the boat.

The race was on – their fast little feet vs. our tired old legs. They won. Even after I tried to play cat and mouse by hiding briefly under the bridge, when we did eventually pop out (at FULL pedal-power), we were sitting ducks with the rain of little pellets barely missing us.