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Published: July 18th 2015
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Amsterdam
Well the flight was pretty uneventful and it could have gone either way – right next to me were 3 young children one baby of 6 weeks who I don’t think cried once and the other two were really good as well and along with our very big tall and overweight male host who was winking and blinking and being rather funny it all was all good.
Got my bus at the airport got off right down the street from the hotel all going so well I could hardly believe it but then things went pair shaped as the receptionist says sorry your booking was cancelled. This had slipped through the loop when I had my computer stolen. So its high season and no booking but it was sort of my lucky day they had room to give me but not at the same expensive rate I was paying only higher even more expensive rate so I thought about it for a minute and said I would take it there was no way I was going to start pounding the pavements with all my gear. My room was on the second floor and I nearly died when I
saw the steep steps and my bags I had to drag up but then the magic words came from the receptionist – there is a lift!
My room is small and comfortable looks like in the process of being refurbed as there is not a picture on the wall and everything looks new however there is no kettle or tea making facilities.
I had a shower washed the history of the flight away and went out exploring the city. It was a lovely day not too hot. The first thing I had to get used to was the traffic coming the wrong way and the bicycles that have their own road rules. I cant get over how quiet it all is for a city. With so many people on bicycles there is not much car traffic and then the trams and busses used for public transport.i am fascinated by the cyclists who text all the time whilst cycling still managing to look cool and elegant. There are also so many dogs being carted around in baskets on bikes as too children.
The hotel is in the heart of the museum district but I just wanted
to have a look around and try and get to the Ann Frank museum which I could not get tickets for online. So I ventured forth with my map my head spinning with delight at all the bright flowers on bridges in front of doorways or windows. Deep dark purples, blue, reds and pinks and yellows. Its obviously too late for tulips for I have only seen wooden ones everywhere and plenty of bulbs for sale. So wish I could bring a few back. The roads are quaint and so too are the shops. Walking towards the centre and the flower market is relaxed. I notice of course there are a lot of bikes but they are so quiet – some have a few sqeaks but often they can creep up upon you without noticing. Then the trams are quiet too you really have to make sure when crossing – of course for the first hurdle is they are coming from the wrong way driving on the right so my poor head is going from right to left at double time! And though there are a lot of people around I find this city very quiet and safe.
The flower stalls along the canal were too divine selling and I was quite surprised to see dope seeds for sale along with the bulbs. Behind me was a shop selling Magic Mushrooms and other delights. I really had no idea what it meant to be out there and free to use and purchase openly with out fear. I made my way across the city to find myself in Dam square where the Royal Palace is. I didn’t linger as I wanted to get to Ann Franks house and get in the queue. It was getting on for 4 o’clock . For the first half an hour we were in the shade. It was quite amazing from where I started they said it would take an hour and 15 and it just kept on moving markers at a few places to say how long the queue would now take to get in and behind me the queue never got shorter. I tried to imagine what it was like to be locked in there being a child and not allowed to make a noise all day. Living on potatoes and old kale 8 of them in a very small space.
I loved her spirit of sticking posters on the wall of her room from magazines they managed to glean and one pot of precious glue.There is so much to be said but sometimes better to say less. It brought back memories of my childhood of reading her diary.
Then I decided to walk back home which now was far but the sun sets very late here and as I meandered through the tiny streets with people sitting outside their houses in cafes looking into ground floor houses or apartments and seeing people partake of their evening dinner. It feels so different this open life as ours in South Africa are all behind walls, gates and bars and of course the mere fact that these houses are tightly packed together very narrow only one room wide and very long, for a second as you pass you are part of that dinner.
The sun is setting very late here at 8.30 its still light outside and so it was when I went out for dinner down the road. Just over a bridge of course you come to an area packed full of choices you cannot make.
Mostly non were Dutch. I settled for a Balinese place as there were a couple of women sitting there who looked Balinese and so I had a very pleasant dinner outside with a Weise beer in a packet street watching the guy next door drum up punters as they walked by. I strolled home it was now dark but I felt so safe so many people out and about and yet so quiet.
Pillow and head became one simultaneously and so did lights out. i could start ticking my list.
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mariette
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Only get to read blog now. Feels like I'm right there with you as sooo beautifully written. Glad u got to Anne F room . i stood in that same Q ..onky it as pouring down . needless say only the diehards persisted. Not me. Miss uoy in Woodstock Xx