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Published: August 5th 2008
Amsterdam
Giant lego like sign near the Van Gogh musuemIf the Dutch could, they would ride thier bicycles upstairs. After the casualness of Dutch customs at Schipol airport it was the dominance of bicycles on the streets of Amsterdam which strikes you . We had glided past racks and racks of bikes at all the stations on the way into central Amsterdam on the electric train. We needed to find our hostel. The Dutch speak english, all 16 million of them with precision. Asking for directions from a local will be answered with crisp, concise english delivered in a crisp, precise cadence. It's a whole nation of BBC news presenters! It's a different matter when they switch back to Dutch. The guttural tones sound like they've all got a wad of salty Dutch licorice stuck in their cheeks as they welcome you to 'Amshhhterdam'.
We made our way to the hostel through cobbled streets in the back of a cab. The hostel we had booked was on the other side of the old city. The Dutch can't ride their bikes up the stairs because the stairs are more like ladders as we discovered at our hostel. Also a 'double room' we had booked meant bunk beds in a shoe
Bikes + Canal
Typical Amsterdam scene box. The dollar doesn't stand still in Amsterdam. It goes backwards. You'll find less for more in this city. The 'Anne Marie Hostel' used to be a merchants house and now hosted 60-odd backpackers with shared bathrooms and a fat ginger tom called Ander. At breakfast we got to eavesdrop on groups of 1st time bratpackers discuss where to get the cheapest booze along with what nightclubs they could afford and who would let them in.
A switch seems to flick when you turn thirty. Sympathy for youth changes to disdain and mild scorn for their hijinks. Especially when you're queing for the bathroom and one of them is puking-up last nights dinner & drinks. Being held-up by a bit of vomiting was mild karma when I think about my own twenties. The best thing to do when confronted with unpleasant surroundings is to get out and explore were you've landed. We consulted a map and made our way through the old town over canals to hire bikes.
The only hills in Amsterdam are the bridges over the canals. No mountain-biking required so all the bikes are old and comfortable.
Conspicuous consumption is frowned upon here. That is the
starkest difference we found between here and New York City.
It's manifested in the near total absence of air-conditioning. Then again everyone seems to be on their bike all the time so who cares?
The bicycle safari didn't last long. Michelle isn't made for biking. We had to rethink our transport strategy. So we hired a scooter.
In Amsterdam if you don't have a helmet you have to ride your scooter in the bike lane. Not so hard when the top speed of our scooter was 40kph. So off we went touring the canal streets. We kept it overnight and went to the Zoo in the morning. Yes, Zoo's hold animals that want to be free. Us not going wasn't going to change that fast. I'm sure they appreciated our visit though. Especially the Meerkats.
There was a bumper crop of newborn animals to see. Baby Gorillas, Monkeys & Giraffes to name a few. we also saw the huge Galapagos tortises getting it on. They're unusually noisy for reptiles.
Amsterdam like any wealthy city has a past captured by artists. We went to the Rijksmusuem 5 minutes walk away to see Rembrandt, Vermeer and other Dutch masters with
Scooter
Good mode of transport round the city silly beards. No doubt they enjoyed a good witch-burning as well. The highlight of the musuem tour is Rembrandts Nightwatch. The Dutch Masters were masters of light. Seeing these paintings for real, in the flesh only cements their power. The Rijksmusuem is being renovated so only half the exhibition space is open right now. What we saw was a concise catalogue of Dutch antiquity including some exquisite Delft porcelains. The floorspace was a good size which left you satisfied rather than blase about the art. The absence of art in our Amsterdam photos is because it is verboten to take photos in all the galleries.
The Van Gogh Musuem however even at opening time (9.00am), was crawling with people. I would suggest going in the depths of winter. Vincent Van Gogh only painted for ten years after spending his twenties being a religious nut. At 37 he was dead by his own hands. A falling out with Paul Gauguin hastened his demise. It is interesting how the lives of these major artists intersected. Sadly Van Gogh's younger brother Theo who propelled Vincent to fame died 1 year later. Three rows deep at each painting made you want to hurry
so you could leave after saying you'd seen the Sunflowers. It made you want to cut an ear off. Malevich's abtract's were a happy surprise amongst other artists on display as well. The Van Gogh Museum is actually a misnomer as about half the paintings aren't Van Gogh's....which is a good thing considering the crowds bias.
The Netherlands is a flat, small country, so it's easy to go see windmills & cheese courtesy of the rail system. Fariq our yob-beleagured host at the Anne Marie was adamant we would find some quality countryside at Zaanse Schans. We weren't disappointed. 100 years ago there used to be 1000 windmills and plenty of Gouda on this narrow spit of land. There's 7 windmills left, some sheep & canals but no authentic 19th century filth & squalor. The Japanese around us loved it. As with Amsterdam the countryside was very tidy and well maintained. We got a better look as we were riding down the tracks to the Hague for a visit to the Mauritshuis.
In the horizon of grass & reeds along the track are boats parked like cars on the road. As you get higher and closer the canal they
Frank House bookcase
This bookcase concealed the entrance to the Frank family's hideout float upon materialises. Alongside the track, all the way to the Hague is a bicycle track. It's occasionally interrupted by towns and marinas of boats. The northern third of the Netherlands is well below sea level. Global warming could wipe out centuries of canal life in a few decades.
It was humans, German & Dutch who wiped-out Amsterdam Jewry in WWII. The Jewish Frank family who'd been in hiding for most of the war in a warehouse were betrayed in August 1944; by persons unknown and sent to die in concentration camps. Anne Frank's diaries were published by her father after the war. Otto Frank was the sole survivor. The apartments they hid in you can tour. It was a strange experience that left you feeling as empty and sad as the rooms they hid and lived in. The Nazi's took their furniture as well as their lives; Otto Frank kept the apartment the exactly way it was on that last day when he returned to Amsterdam without his family.
Since 1588 much of the Netherlands government has been situated in the Hague but it also hosts the International Court of Justice and foreign embassies. Radovan Karadzic will
soon be the next war criminal to go on trial there.
The old town is cunningly disguised with a shell of modern/ugly buildings obviously given the big tick by some Eurocrat. Walk a little further inwards and you'll find the good stuff. Perhaps that is why there are far less tourists that inadvertently frustrate your efforts at enjoying the sights. The Mauritshuis is a former palace, now an art gallery...for the last 300 years. It contains a fabulous collection of Northern European paintings dating back to mediaeval times. The Girl with the Pearl Earing by Vermeer is it's main drawcard. The Van Gogh musuem is good, but the Mauritshuis is better. Take a return train for 16 euros, give yourself 5 or so hours and enjoy the Hague.
I'm still trying to fathom the origins of the Dutch attitude to drugs, sex and salty licorice. After WWII a different, somewhat pragmatic set of policies were applied in this country compared to the rest of Europe. Now I haven't seen the rest of Western Europe yet, I'm writing this in London; but the Dutch have got it right. Rather than jump on the prohibitionist band wagon that the rest of
Meerkat
This little guy at the Zoo loved all the attention and posed for us. the world has taken, the dutch have accepted that as long as there is someone who wants to take drugs or have naughty sex then you can't stop them. So why bother collectively whipping ourselves with hypocrisy when you can just accept it? Now I could be wrong but they do seem to have cleaner streets, less street people and more money than us. Unlike the capital of the 'War on Drugs', the USA.
Walking through the red light district there's no pretense to what goes on. Why anyone would want to display themselves in a roadside glass cabinet wearing fishnets with a ravaged look in their eyes is a good question. So in theory it's all good but seeing it upfront complicates your sentiments.
Coffee and food here is expensive. The restaurants didn't have anything peculiar to offer so we grabbed some pretty good pre-prepared meals from Albert Heijns (Dutch equivalent of Woolworths but nicer) and ate at the hostel. Amsterdam because of the pot and prostitutes does attract lager louts. The consequence of this was no outdoor seating in an otherwise lovely courtyard the hostel has. Fariq explained he couldn't control the periodically drunk guests and the
Ander the cat
Gets about 20 meals a day neighbours had complained prompting removal of the seats. Getting an early dinner helped us take advantage of the summer light well into the evening.
We took a canal boat tour and learnt about the evolution of the city.
Amsterdam used to THE financial centre of the known world until the British & the French built their navy's. Wealthy merchants spurred the growth of canals feeding off the Amstel river. Merchant ships used to come right into the centre of town. Nowadays due to larger, more protective barriers out to sea the port is further away. After WWII hundreds of thousands of Dutch left the polluted, overcrowded and ruined Netherlands. But luckily by our century the canal network is a collection of pretty, tranquil waterways perfect for tourism. Those who stayed and those who visit now have a beautiful city and country once again. I'd live there, Michelle almost did and we both agree the reclining seats in the waiting lounge at Schipol Airport could be the clincher.
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Sammo
non-member comment
Lycra Lover!
Ha ha Mitch you're on a bike... I knew all the years of me going on about cycling would get it into your blood! Soon you to can wear lycra! x