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Published: August 8th 2007
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Anne Frank Huis: First Attempt Having not set the alarm, we all get up late. Our plan for today is Anne Frank’s House and the Heineken Brewery. That should mean that everyone got to see their first choice (Van Gogh Museum) and their second as well (bike tour, Heineken, and Anne Frank). While getting ready, we got a quick lesson in Dutch cosmetics from a TV commercial advertising the benefits of “Schnail Schlime” (snail slime) as a beautifying agent. Your skin will shine with Schnail Schlime! We try to find a nice, happy spot to have another English breakfast, but we don’t find any at noontime and on the way to Prinsengracht where Anne’s place is. We do find a cute little café right before her huis and go in for croissants, bagels, and poffertjes (small Dutch pancakes or fritters) and cappuccino. The cappuccinos came with a little rectangular cookie that had almond pieces in it. Leroy asked what they were, and Bettina (with mouth full) replied, “Ahmond Shleever.” Leroy thought Bettina had somehow learned Dutch in one day, and so began the frequent teasing of “Ahmond schleever” through the streets of Amsterdam. Maybe you had to be there. When we
turn the corner to go into Anne’s huis, there is a ridiculously long line that goes down the street and takes a bend. Bett immediately says that the line is too long and that we should come back in the afternoon. We all agree, but I should have remembered from my first time in Amsterdam, when the exact same thing happened. The guides say you should go around 5pm when the lines are shorter, but our flight leaves at 9pm and we have to get out of Centraal Station on a 6:30pm train.
The Heineken Experience The Heineken Brewery is a good 30-minute walk away, but we book it there instead of taking a cab or tram. Once there, we make the most of the €11 entrance, which comes with a free gift (an awesome little bottle opener in a package shaped like a Heineken bottle) and three beers to consume while in the Heineken Experience. Everything is green, by the way. First we learn about the history of Heineken, and how it was started by a young man in his early 20’s who used his father’s inheritance to buy a brewery despite knowing nothing about beer. He employs
a physician scientist who isolates a strain of yeast (they name it “A” yeast, how clever and Dutch of them!), thus allowing them to make beer with a consistent Heineken flavor. They teach you about the beer-making process, but there are also interactive rooms where you can play games like memory or see Heineken commercials in this cool little pod-chair. They have ads from the 50s and on, and they are quite funny to watch, especially the ones from the 70s. What a hilarious decade. All in all, it was a fun time. Leroy drank all his three complimentary beers, and the bartender even gave him another one for no reason (nice face, I guess). Bett and I had a beer each, and then I gave my two remaining tokens to a group of what looked to me like American frat boys. “Do you want two extra tokens?” “Absolutely!” Bettina kept her tokens for her scrapbook. It was definitely worth the entrance fee, and if in Amsterdam, it’s good to do at least once.
Anne Frank Huis: Second Attempt Even the Dutch admit that traditional Dutch food is fairly bland, and the streets are filled with restaurants with
Poffertjes
Tiny Dutch pancake every cuisine you can think of. It’s no wonder then that we end up at a Thai place for a late lunch. The phad thai is good, but nothing like the food court, of course. We have to scarf our food down in a hurry, because Anne Frank is still on the agenda. We make the long walk back to Prinsengracht to find a shorter line, but once we join the tail of it, it barely moves. I’ve been to Anne Frank Huis before, and it’s quite powerful. But it’s also very small, so moving so many people through it is tough. We stand in line trying to gauge if we’ll make it, and after 20 minutes and moving only five feet, we give up and head to the hotel to pick up our bags. It’s sad, but it is what it is. Soon enough, we’re back at Schiphol Airport and on a Vueling flight back to Paris. The Roissybus takes us home to the 17th arrondisement, and we plop back into our beds dreaming of cheese, clogs, cappuccinos, ahmond shleevers and schnail schlime!
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Alea
non-member comment
Alea's an idiot
ok, when i was younger i thought heneiken was a Virgin Islands beer-- it was the only respected drink (outside of rum), there were calypso odes to it, it had its own patois name... of course, makes sense since the VI was owned by the dutch for eons (Gade anyone??)- but yeah, my dumb moment. great blogging!