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Geo: 52.3738, 4.89095
Kinder Egg update: It was a walrus.
I forgot to mention how Rolinka managed to take over the trams we took last night. There is more than one door for getting on a tram, and there is also a ticket attendant seated in a booth mid-tram. Because there are so many of us, Rolinka encourages us to get on at different doors and spread out through the tram. She tells us which stop will be ours, but it's not always easy to understand the announcement over the loudspeaker. On our first tram, the mid-tram attendant let Rolinka take over his booth, so we heard Rolinka's voice, "This is our stop! Everyone traveling with Rick Steves' Europe Through the Back Door, please get off at this stop." Rolinka was pretty excited to get to use the microphone and sit in the booth.
On the next tram, the driver seemed very interested in us and chatted to Rolinka. When she told him that we all wanted to be sure to get off at the same stop, he told her he would handle it. So when we got to Dam Square, the announcement from the driver was, "All the crazy, wonderful Americans traveling with
Rolinka, the next stop is yours!" He said something else but we were all laughing so much we didn't hear it. And then when we were getting off, he hollered (with a smile), "Get out!" The Dutch people were laughing too. On the last tram, the lady let Rolinka use the microphone again. I think Rolinka had just as much fun as we did!
Slept pretty well. Some sort of bird in the courtyard woke up at 4:45 and started squawking away. I managed to tune her out till around 6:30, and then I got up. The shower wasn't bad, and breakfast was all right and included cookies. I'm getting used to having a hard-boiled egg in the morning.
Rolinka told us all last night that we wouldn't be able to take big bags into the Rijksmuseum today and, of course, I'm carrying a big bag. Fortunately, I have a smallish bag from the Apple store with a drawstring, so I transferred the stuff I deemed necessary into that, and also put my wallet and camera in the inside pockets of my jacket. I didn't feel quite comfortable with that, but what else could I do?
We walked to the Rijksmuseum, as Museumplein
(where the modern art museum, the Van Gogh museum, and the Rijks are) is very close to the hotel. It only reopened last month after 10 years of renovations. When I went in 2010, only a very small part of the museum was open, and only a very small part of the collection was on display. The building itself, inside and out, is beautiful. The guide we had referred to it as a "cathedral of art," and she's right: the interior is laid out like a cathedral, with a nave and side chapels.
Julianne, the guide, showed us some of the prizes of the collection, including "The Night Watch," other Rembrandts, a couple by Frans Hals (who I really like), and a few Vermeers. The beautiful blues that Vermeer used are so much more vibrant in the actual paintings than the reproductions we saw in Delft. Julianne finished with us after 90 minutes or so, and then we were free for the rest of the day. The Rijks was so crowded that I kind of wanted out of there, but the exit is difficult to find. Fortunately, this meant that I ended up looking at the Asiatic collection with its several
A quick and cheap dinner
Sweet chili Bugles: not as bad as they sound!peaceful Buddhas, and I also found a Fra Angelico Madonna and child.
When I finally found the main hall, I noticed Heidi and Rolinka sitting in the cafe on the first floor. Heidi had said yesterday that she wanted to go to the same photo exhibit that I wanted to go to, so I went up to the cafe just as they were leaving to see if Heidi was still up for it. She was, so we took a tram to Dam Square and walked to the Oude Kerk to see the World Press Photo Exhibit. I wanted to see it in 2010 but never got around to it. It's a competition organized by Sony and some other corporate sponsors for journalistic photography; the various winners were on display. It was roughly half-and-half current affairs photos (newsworthy items, wildlife, sport, etc.) and an exhibit of photos from Soviet photographers ranging from the late 50s to the early 90s. Some of them were really charming and you'd never guess that the subjects were under an oppressive regime. They looked like very normal, everyday activities or situations. The current events photos were mostly pretty grim, a large portion of them dealing with the conflict in Syria. But all of them were amazing works of art.
I walked back to Dam Square and wandered through De Bijenkorf department store for a bit (free and clean toilets!) and then took a tram back to Spui near the flower market and went to -- wait for it -- Starbucks. Yes, I'm weak. But I was hungry and I knew Starbucks would be simple. That's what I
thought anyway. The smiling Indonesian boy asked what I wanted and I replied that I wanted a croque monsieur (that's French for toasted ham and cheese). What? Croque monsieur. The penny dropped, and he repeated "croque monsieur" with exactly the same pronunciation I had used. Then I ordered my decaf tall mocha. For here? Yes. Do you mind if I use a paper cup? Uh, sure. All the tables were taken and I was wondering how on earth I was going to eat my sandwich, seeing as he had given it to me on a plate. As I was waiting for my mocha a table opened up, so I sat down and cut my sandwich in two. Then the guy called from the counter asking if I wanted whip. Thumbs up. Figuring that meant my drink was ready, I got up and stood at the counter. A French family made a beeline for my table; fortunately, the daughter stopped in confusion when she saw my sandwich. I pointed to myself, and she got the picture. So they retreated. My mocha came up, and when I turned around I saw another S'bux worker clearing my table and scurrying off to the back with my plate! Back to the smiling Indonesian guy. "I got up to get my drink and the guy took my sandwich." He was horrified and ran off to the back hollering at the other guy. He got my sandwich back (it looked like I had left it) and my table was still available. But as I turned around, I realized that everyone was watching the drama. Oy. You'd think a Seattleite would know how to "work" a Starbucks! At any rate, the sandwich hit the spot and the mocha was fine.
As I was finishing, an older gentleman sat down next to me. At one point, he moved his sweater, which brushed against me, and he said in accented English, "Oh, excuse me. I forgot I had this there." "No problem," I said. He proceeded to chat about the weather and how it's changing in general, and it came out that he's from Sweden. Yet when he had wanted to speak to me, he spoke English. I am constantly fascinated by just how much English is used in Europe, both written and spoken. It makes sense, and heaven knows it's lucky for us native English speakers, but I still marvel at it. He said, "You're not from here, are you?" No, I'm from America. "Ah," he said, "but you speak English!" Erm, I do, indeed. "Most Americans speak 'American.'" He said "American" with the funniest American accent. He also pointed out that an American will often speak with a huge smile on her face, which I suppose lets the Europeans who may not be attuned to the different English-speaking accents know that the person is American and not English or Australian.
This reminds me of what Paul (the driver) said the other day when we were in Delft. We were having our kopje koffie in the Vermeer Center and we got to talking about how many languages he speaks. Living on the border between the Netherlands, Belgium and Germany, he necessarily speaks Dutch (dialect and regular Dutch), French and German. Because of his job as a coach driver, he also speaks Italian and some Spanish. And he learned English in school; it's mandatory. I asked him if he found learning English to be difficult. He said he did not, but that was also because many Dutch improve their school English by watching American or British TV shows and movies. They are rarely dubbed, so a Dutchman will hear English while reading his native language and absorbs the English. He said that it's different in Germany. There, John Wayne spoke German … and sounded stupid. 😊
After I wished the Swedish man a pleasant day, I trooped off to the Tassen Museum, a museum devoted to the history and design of handbags and purses. It didn't cost anything with the Museumkaart that we were given as part of the tour. It was surprisingly interesting and showed the evolution of the purse over 500 years. They started as small bags worn around the waist, then became pockets that were tied around the waist and worn between petticoats and overskirt. Then someone invented integrated pockets and the purse evolved into a reticule, which is the first time a purse became recognizable as such. The museum had pretty beaded purses from the 18th century, work bags from the 19th century, and some gorgeous stuff from the 20s and 30s, decorated with marcasite, ivory and tortoiseshell. There was a bag that had belonged to Madonna and one that Elizabeth Taylor owned. I particularly liked the special exhibit of schoolbags. In the 18th century, there were no desks in schools. Each child had a schoolbox in which to keep his slate, pencils and chalk, and the box doubled as a desk. Eventually, children started carrying satchels, lunch boxes and backpacks. There was a plastic Snoopy lunchbox that made me happy. Eastpak, a US brand, is the most popular backpack brand in the Netherlands. I swear I've never even heard of Eastpak.
I walked back to Leidseplein and took a tram back to the hotel. Stopped at the Albert Heijn grocery store to see if I could get some toothpaste. My toothpaste is pretty much gone, which is really annoying seeing as I only have four more tooth-brushings left. AH didn't have any small sizes, so I ended up with a full-size tube. At least it was only 79 cents.
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Mary
non-member comment
Walruses are good too :-) What a fiasco at Starbucks! An untouched sandwich on a plate? Oh that must be some rich American's lunch; they always buy food just so they can leave it behind. It's nice to hear the Amsterdam (and Dutch) stories.