Amsterdam

I will preface this by saying that I was a fool, a FOOL to think that I could cover Amsterdam in one day. Listen to me, youngsters, and plan for at least two, if not three days in this wonderful city.

First of all, how awesome is it that the Centraal station is right next to the downtown area? No need to take busses or walk through creepy industrial sites – just cross the canal (first of many) and head into one of the tiny cobblestone streets that permeate European cities.

First stop of the day was the Oude Kerk (the Old Church … again, one of many, I’m sure). I have a fancy for old churches and cathedrals (due to the fact that there’s a dearth of them in North America … those modern Baptist churches are a joke compared to the cathedrals of Europe; might as well compare the waiting room at the doctor’s office to Versailles).

In any case, like any gullible tourist, I totally paid the 4 Euros to look inside the church, which looked like most other Dutch churches inside. But what the heck, you gotta live a little, right? The interesting thing about this one were the intricate wall and ceiling decorations. So I take a photo of one of the pictures on the ceiling.

Then I read up about it in the handy dandy little brochure, like the proper tourist that I am.
Guess who was in the picture?

St. Crisp and St. Crispin, patron saints of shoemakers.

Bam. Now that I’m buddy buddy with them, I’m hoping for a windfall of Louboutins in the future.
The rest of the church was also of course beautiful …

…  but let’s just say, I wasn’t looking up as much as I was looking down.

See, the floor stones are actually grave stones for the people buried beneath the church. And a lot of them had these weird symbols on them, so I decided to photograph every single one, just in case I become Tom Hanks and have to solve some sort of Templar mystery with these clues.



Dan Brown, feel free to hit me up and make me a star in your next European mystery quest. I’d be only too glad to take another trip through here … as long as it’s all expenses paid, you understand.

Anyways, I figured I should at least see some sights and visit some museums, so I headed to my first destination. (Which was neither a sight, nor a museum, but a Dutch cheese tasting, which unfortunately was full and I had to change my plans). But on the way, I also managed to see some other sights.

Why yes, that IS the world famous naked invisible man. Didn’t you stop by to take a photo with him on YOUR trip?

And apparently the secret hideout of the USSR. Guess after the union broke up, the leaders figured, why not head to Amsterdam and relax with some green? I mean, heading up a dictatorship is really hard work, you know.

With all that sight-seeing, I got a little bit hungry (plus it was what, 1pm already? Did I mention I got a late start?), so I stopped at one of those absolutely cute tiny cafes on the canal and got what must have been my most delicious meal to date. If you're ever in the area of the Hegensgracht, stop by either the Hegensgracht (cafe) or Toos&Roos for a delicious sandwich and soup.

(That is not the actual view from the cafe, but it’s close by, I promise!)

(Fresh and mouthgasmicly soft white bread, mozzarella ready to melt in your mouth, tomatoes and greens basically straight off the farm, all drizzled generously in home made pesto. I die. I die.)

Feeling appropriately refreshed post-lunch, I hit up my first museum. Still, I decided to ease into the cultural tedium of countless masterpieces of the more famous museums with a visit to a small museum with masterpieces of a different kind.

The Museum of Handbags. Yes, it exists, and yes, it was heavenly. The only thing better would be a shoe museum. As it happened, there was a shoe section there too, so I was on cloud 9 for a good hour or so.

There was a bag there from the 1400s, for example …

… as well as a whole cabinet of bags made from various exotic materials, from armadillo to ostrich.

There were also bags there that even I was a little confused about, but then I realized that this was probably a collection of the purses that Lady Gaga had accidentally left behind in her hotel rooms during a tour or something, and it made more sense.

With such an auspiciously great start to my museum-ing, I headed off with a light heart to this here little place.

That would be the Rijksmuseum. Where I paid 14 Euro to see their reduced collection, because the entire building was being renovated and so they were only displaying a small part of their masterpieces. Great.

But I’m stubborn as a bull, and if I walked all the way here, there was no way in hell I’d be deterred by such a little thing as an overpriced ticket to a not-really-worth-it-type exhibition, and in I went. On the way to the more famous Rembrandts and Vermeers and The Night Watch, I learned a few other lessons in art history.

Like that a Dutch lady once paid the price of a canal house for a dollhouse …

… and that apparently Greek men were not very well endowed …

… and that the expression ‘pain in the ass’ was probably first uttered by the model for this particular statue when the sculptor asked him to sit on a snake for 10 hours straight.

The snake’s expression indicates that he was probably not pleased by the arrangement either.

The Vermeers and the Rembrandts were nice and obviously well executed, if not rather small. I guess that’s always the case – I mean if fame determined size, the Mona Lisa would be 10 ft tall. But similarly to Da Vinci’s painting, The Milkmaid and Rembrandt’s self-portraits were all rather small and unprepossessing.

Despite the fact that this was a ‘reduced’ exhibition, I felt like I had had enough by the time I finished viewing it … I only wished it weren’t that expensive. Still, I was determined to also hit up the Van Gogh museum, so on I trudged down the street. But you know, I’m like a magpie, so when I saw a sign for a free entry to the Diamond Museum, I was on it like leopard print on Russian girls.

 No seriously, I can’t resist shiny things. Now they claim that they were showing real diamonds here, but of course I can’t tell the difference, so who knows. There were also real workers who were polishing the diamonds (much smaller ones). Then in a different room, they had actual rooms full of diamonds that were for sale. Now even though this was supposedly part of the ‘museum’, there were still mobs of salespeople anywhere, and I don’t think I’ve ever felt as much that I didn’t belong as I did there.

There were Chinese couples who were literally scooping up diamond-encrusted watches left right and center, and there was dowdy little me, snooping around with my dirty poor-person fingers. Or at least, that’s how the snobby salespeople made me feel. Well never mind them, I still went to every single room, because nothing gets in the way of me and my touristing. And then I quickly tried to exit, but got lost and had to trek through all the snobbily accoutured salesrooms once again.

Bah. I need to get rich.

Anyways, across the street was the Van Gogh museum and I rejoined the touristing crowds with ease. Unfortunately, you weren’t allowed to photograph in the Van Gogh museum …

As I was reminded when I sneakily tried to take a photo. I mean, there really is no reason to take a photo of a painting, when I can get a reproduction/print/really good resolution image on the Internet later. No reason at all. But the touristing impulse is strong, and the traveller’s camera trigger-happy finger can not rest.

I actually really enjoyed the Van Gogh museum, surprisingly. Despite the fact that it was not very big (and yet still cost 14 Euros!), I liked seeing how the works of one painter progressed over time. You could see how he started with thick, dark, oily strokes and slowly progressed to small, quick, multi-coloured strokes. It was also interesting to see this evolution in the context of the events that shaped his life. All in all fascinating.

By the time I left though, it was 6pm. I really wanted to take a boat tour of Amsterdam, but had decided earlier to leave it to the end, so I could enjoy Amsterdam in the late afternoon when I was tired of walking around. But the tours were all 1.5 hours long, which would make me quite late in getting home, so regretfully, I had to get back to the train station.

I still hadn’t managed to have a cheese tasting, or visit the Heineken Brewery or take the boat tour. So clearly, one day in Amsterdam is not enough.

Still, even from such a limited exposure, I would venture that Amsterdam is my favourite city in the Netherlands – its busy atmosphere, its beautiful buildings and ever-present canals and the general feeling of European elegance contributed to a very satisfying day for me.

But seriously, next time, I’m taking the damned boat. Period.