Amsterdam (or Should I Say Amsterdarn?)

The title of this post is thanks to a bit of seventh-grade humor. Well, that's not exactly true. It's the humor of a seventh-grade teacher, as repeated by the much cooler twelve-year old who joined my mother, sister, and me for our road trip to Amsterdam.

My niece wasn't originally supposed to come to visit Germany until Christmas, when her whole family was also making the trek. Since we have to move back to the states before then, she convinced her parents, grandmother, and aunt that she should tag along with them. Now, she has a new nickname of "Hitch" (short for hitchhiker) and a trip to Germany and the Netherlands under her belt.

This is my third trip to Amsterdam, and each visit I had different lodging requirements. The first time I was here was with Kevin, and we stayed in a hotel outside of the city center. Instead of fighting the traffic, we instead took the train downtown each day. The second time staying overnight, I rented and small canal house in a residential neighborhood. This time, since we only had one night and two days to explore, I opted for the most central location I could find.

Thanks goodness my sister agreed to drive into the city. The small roads were a bit harried and the bikers appeared to have a death wish. She magically navigated the car to a parking garage near our hotel, and we didn't move it again until we were ready to head home.

After settling into our hotel, we headed to the Anne Frank house. Since it was a Monday in the late afternoon in November, there was no line to enter. Though I had been through the house before, I still got a lot out of the exhibit. It is amazing to consider that eleven people hid in these rooms for over two years. I can't imagine what that must have been like.

At the end of the exhibit there is an interactive video presentation about freedom and liberty. After a brief explanation of a number of situations surrounding freedom of speech, religion, and the press, visitors can vote on whether they agree or disagree. This feature dovetailed perfectly with the next spot on our tour of the city: the red light district.

After explaining "personal freedoms" to my niece, we walked down one street in the red light district. Let me tell you though, nothing will stop a group of rowdy men like the sight of my mother marching her daughters and niece through a side street of red lights

On the Canals

Most tourist cities have double-decker tour buses; Amsterdam has canal boats. On Saturday we bought tickets, which were good until noon the next day, and hopped on and hopped off as much as we wanted. Not only did the boats give us a chance to see the city from the water (I particularly loved being able to peek at the other side of the many house boats)) but they served as easy transportation and gave us a place to sit down for a few minutes while still touring the city.

Falling for Amsterdam

In October I blogged about how much I liked Amsterdam. After visiting with my parents I can truly say that there is way more to this town then coffee shops and the red light district.

We arrived on Friday afternoon and checked into the apartment that I rented – an adorable little Dutch house off a canal just outside the city center. This was a perfect place to call our home base. I really enjoyed being able to come back, sit in the living room and visit rather then heading to a hotel room. José, the owner, has paired the place down to only the bare essentials. There was no clutter to be found, but everything you could want – nice sheets, maps of the city, a coffee pot, and box of cookies – was included.

We visited the Anne Frank house, touring the rooms where the Frank family and four other Jews hid for more then two years; walked through the red-light district (we had to – we were in Amsterdam after all); and then headed to dinner in the Neumarkt district.

Amster, Amster...Dam, Dam, Dam

Amsterdam! Loved it! The red light district, which we had to check out, was interesting, but by no means the highlight. Instead I adored walking around, looking at the canals and crooked houses, which made my old apartment on First Avenue in New York seem as even as a level. The canals offered one image more picturesque then the next.

The Hague

Off to Dan Haag. (I’m embarrassed to admit that I didn’t realize that Dan Haag is The Hague until being in the city for a few hours.)

I found the city to be one of the friendliest places that I have visited – ever! Shortly after checking into our hotel K and I had lunch as a café called Cloors. We both had opened faced sandwiches on what the waitress called brown bread, but to us looked almost salmon colored. Then K was off to some meetings and I set out to explore on my own. Among my discoveries, observations, and questions in Dan Haas were:
• Hollandaise sauce…Holland-daise? Is this where is comes from?
• Why is Holland called The Netherlands? Why are people from The Netherlands (a.k.a Holland) known as the Dutch? And why are the people from The Netherlands are called Dutch, but Germany – in German – is called Deutschland?
• I love the Apple Options store in the Pavilion in the main shopping district. I went in to buy a new, European adapter for my computer and they showed me that the plug from my charger was removable and could be replaced with a European 220 volt plug. Then they gave me the plug that I needed. The owner simple said that when I return to the U.S. I should give them the plug back, which they would then give to someone else in need of an adapter. I’ll have to look up their address so I can send the plug back that end of my two years. I love the idea that it’s just on load.
• I went to the M.C. Escher Museum. Though the entry fee was listed as 6.50 Euros they only charged 5 Euros since I was entering toward the end of the day. I originally decided to go to this museum since it was within walking distance of our hotel. But, in retrospect, I was very happy to have made this decision. Small museums dedicated to a singe artist often provide an in depth overview of their work, their mission, and the progression of work over time. Prior to go to this museum I didn’t really like Escher. I thought of his prints as the stuff of college boy’s dorm walls. Although I knew that he was a print maker, I never really full appreciated that his actually carved his pieces and printed them. Also, I was interested in how Moroccan tile work influenced his art. (That Islam forbids creating figurative images was very interesting to me.)

We had a luck luster dinner in Dan Haag, but the funny and charming waiter made up for the restaurant’s short fallings.