Red Lights and FOAM!

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Woolly says – with body and soul restored to full working order I was interested to see what the next museum on our list had to offer. Being a seasoned traveller to The Netherlands for one some reason or another we have never covered the history of the city, and looking at the number of leaflets clutched in Jo’s hand it appeared that on this trip we were more than going to make up for it. Dodging bikes and trams our happy band of travellers made their way to the centre of the area known as the ‘Red Light District’. A place that might help me to understand a little more about life there and would give me a chance to count how many pairs of gloves Aunty Carys will have to knit to keep the girls warm.



With over 900 prostitutes working in the area, it is a huge tourist draw, whether to pay for ten minutes of pleasure of just to look at what was behind the windows, every tourist reacts differently to the incredible workers that cater to all sexual preferences. As Amsterdam is based on a large harbour hundreds of sailors would arrive looking for entertainment far from home, from the 15^th century the area became a hotbed of sexual promiscuity with diseases becoming rampant. By the middle of the 18^th century prostitution had ceased to be a criminal offence and safeguarding measures started to make their way into the profession. Following the occupation of the French in 1795 health checks were brought into play with each worker having a twice weekly check and being given a red card if she was healthy and a white one if not.



Woolly says – A bit like a football game but with different cards?!



With Woolly pretending to head a ball we paid for our tickets and entered the Museum of Prostitution.



Woolly says – finding ourselves in a small cinema area, I jumped onto a seat and waited for the usher to arrive with the snacks. The film wasn’t what I expected at all called ‘life in a day’ it showed the sex workers through a typical day. It made me ponder the loneliness they must face every day alongside the need to have enough customers to pay their 150 Euro for half a day rent for each window. As we progressed upstairs I found myself sat in one of the famous windows watching the world go by, as people peered in laughing and shouting insults I found the experience traumatic, I had only spent a few minutes being ‘viewed’ and felt humiliated how must these poor prostitutes feel hour upon hour, day after day. Through a beaded curtain at the rear of the window we found ourselves in a room called a ‘peekskamer’ containing a fixed bed, thin mattress, a teddy bear and a sink, how could you live like this? Jo read the information boards which detailed the stories of some of the women and how they had come into the oldest profession, some through trafficking, some to support their studies and some to look after their families. It made me sad.



We were all quiet as we left the building and considered how lucky we were to be able to live the lives we have. With the cold nipping round our ankles it seemed sensible to stop and have a snack.



Woolly says – Now that’s the best idea so far today! With my furry belly full and my paws warmed round a mug of hot chocolate I considered our next port of call.



I knew that Woolly might not appreciate the next destination and offered him some options of how he could spend his time, after some pondering and contemplation he elected to give the next museum a go. The Erotic museum welcomed us with a typical Dutch girl on a very special bicycle and taking one look at the shocked face of my little travel companion I suggested that finding a snack in my bag might help with the shock.



Woolly says – well I don’t need to think about that for long and as the girls wandered round the pleasure objects, paintings, prints and cartoons I kept my eyes averted and enjoyed tucking in instead.



It was fascinating to go from the early Egyptians, through the Romans and onto the Victoriana to see that eroticism had captured the world from so long ago. It looked no different to the current day magazine and films except perhaps for the toga’s and men with long twirly moustaches and stockings on! Having seen enough and with some big sighs coming from my bag we made our way back towards the centre of the city and our last stop for the day.



Woolly says – One of Amsterdam’s biggest tourist draws is the use of legal drugs. As I scurried under the barrier to the Hash Museum I was intrigued to find out more. Leaving friends Jade and Chantelle to their own devices, daughter Zoe, Jo and I started the tour, displays told us about the history of cannabis and its many uses and how hemp can be used for agricultural and industrial purposes.



With video footage and hundreds of pictures there was a lot to take in, Woolly charged ahead peering first in one case before skidding to a halt to in front of a mock coffee shop.



Woolly says – now this was the informatio I had been looking for, why is it ok to smoke here, I peered closely at the sign and read that

Dutch drug policy is unique in the whole world. It is directed by an idea that every human being may decide about the matters of its own health. Another idea which guides Dutch laws in their drug policy is a conviction that hiding social negative phenomena does not make them to disappear - on the contrary makes them worse, because when concealed, they become far more difficult to influence and control.



This makes sense even to a mammoth!



Applying these ideas to their drug laws the Dutch try as much as possible to decriminalize the use of drugs, making it a private matter of each individual, and not a matter for the enforcement offices. Production, trading and stocking drugs remain a criminal offence, as in any other countries. But even for the Dutch things are changing and as the campaigns to outlaw drugs in particular to tourists increase there could well be a new ‘weed passport’ brought into effect which would only entitle Dutch citizens to make use of the Coffee shops that abound in the area.

I sat and wondered the consequences of this on the tourist trade, with so much walking and thinking I suggested that it might be time for a snack and with no argument from either of my escorts we set off for ice cream.



The next morning was colder still and having put enough layers on to conquer the Artic we left friend Jade and set off for some more culture.



Woolly says – Nooooo not more sex and drugs, a mammoth can only stand so much at a time. As I trotted through Dam Square I considered what the day might hold, the road looked familiar from my last visit here and as I glanced over my shoulder I saw the queue for the Anne Frank Museum (see our previous blog There's Rain in Amsterdam! ) leaving daughter Zoe and friend Chantelle to visit the world famous house, Jo and I adjourned for a snack and sat watching life on the canal. Having cleared the crumbs from behind my ears and mopped up the hot chocolate from my paws I felt ready for anything and having collected the girls from their thought provoking visit we set off to look for Foam. This didn’t sound like my cup of tea and might well involve water which with my allergy I have to watch out for.



With the small brown bundle muttering away under his breathe we found ourselves in roads that were filled with the grandest of buildings with elegant entrances and flower pots to decorate, with the soothing canal running alongside, we all agreed that it would make a lovely place to live.



Woolly says – three million houses later and we were still walking, I sat down and refused to move further, couldn’t we borrow one of the many cycles that lay abandoned, I’m sure no one would notice and it would be a saving grace for my paws. Having consulted the map again to check that Jo was actually going in the right direction I had no choice but to amble on. With only another 200 houses to pass they must think I have taken up marathon walking, I really must put a complaint in writing for all this abuse. After what seemed like a lifetime we finally found a sign for Foam, I couldn’t see anything white or bubbly just a building that looked identical to its neighbours, I could only hope that we were at the right place and that they had a snack bar, this was getting desperate.



Completed in 1716, Keizersgracht 609 first operated as a warehouse. After coal merchant and art buyer Carel Joseph Fodor (1801-1860) took ownership, his last will and testament stipulated that the canal depot be used to store his impressive collection of works. In 1861, architect Cornelis Outshoorn redeveloped the buildings in an ecclesiastical style, but by 1948 the collection had vanished into storage and the museum became an annex of the Stedelijk Museum. The Nederlandse Vormgevingsinstituut (Dutch Design Institute) occupied the premises between 1993 and 2000, before they became home to Foam in 2002. Providing a home for photography, friend Chantelle was practically keen to visit as part of her degree studies and with the promise of a snack once we had looked around I took the mammoth by the paw and set off to survey the offerings.



Woolly says – There were pictures of people everywhere, some better than others and not knowing much about art I could only surmise that Jo had deleted better shots than some of those on display. Climbing to the next gallery took us into a colourful collection of work showing huge canvas’s with flowers and pots, now that’s more like it and as I considered whether my bestest friend Sion the Sheep might ever get one of his great works installed here I smelt the wonderful odour of cake!



As he trotted off to the café I paused and considered the work around me, it was interesting but didn’t really do it for me, maybe next time we could look at Van Gough instead. Having fed and watered the furry fiend again we strolled back along the canal systems enjoying the weak sun that was trying to break through the clouds, only another day to go and for Woolly I hoped it was going to be an enjoyable one!

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Comments

[D MJ Binkley]

Prostitution
An open city on many levels. So much to see and so little time.

[traveltalesofawoollymammoth]

It's always the way
Like many cities you could go back several times and still not have seen everything.