Amsterdam: There's No Place Like Home

Amsterdam, Day 1

     Out of all the places I've visited, the Netherlands is the country where I feel most at home.  I loved Leiden, and Amsterdam was also amazing.  Something about Amsterdam puts me at ease; everybody bikes everywhere, and the whole atmosphere is relaxed but still lively and interesting. The bike lanes, first of all, are great--I'm convinced that if the States had as many bike lanes, the obesity rates would be far, far lower.  It's also really cool to see literally everyone riding around, including businessmen in fancy suits, old ladies in their skirts and hats, young kids listening to iPods and texting while biking (seems to complicated for me. I could never have done it when I was a youngster.)  In any case, I really, really want to live in Amsterdam.

The beautiful Amsterdam.

  Monday morning we woke up very, very early to visit the Anne Frank House. Like every other seventh-grader, I read the Diary of Anne Frank, mostly skimming the "boring" parts until I got to the good romantic bits.  Many many years later, I think I would read the diary with a bit more care, but I still think that actually visiting the house where she hid gave me much more of a reaction than her diary ever would.  It was almost eerie; I could imagine her hiding behind the bookshelf, sitting on the stairs and writing in her diary, looking out of the attic windows and longing for just a little freedom.  It was haunting, like all the memories she poured into her diary had bled into the walls and formed a soul imprisoned by that tiny attic.  I felt like I could see her.
    In typical museum fashion, I wasn't allowed to take pictures of anything, so it's all stored in my memory. But it was beautiful and sobering, and anyone who can should definitely visit.  Just to remind me, I bought a copy of her diary there. We have one at home, but I figured a "Bought at the Anne Franke House" stamp on the front page would imbue the book with special meaning.

    After the Anne Franke House, we went to the Rijks Museum, which had opened just a few days earlier.  It had been closed for some 10 years, ostensibly to remodel, but actually to make the floorplan the most confusing thing ever.  The museum had hired guards who stood at every corner "guarding" the art--mostly just giving directions.  The Museum itself was alright.  I'm not really into art, especially after the atrocious amount I was exposed to in Paris, and it had advertised itself as having all these famous pieces.  It did have some, but you can't really mark a Van Gogh "wing" when you only have 1 of his paintings.  Also, one Yves Saint Laurent dress does not constitute an exhibit you can mark on the map, especially when said dress is pretty simple and ugly.

The only Van Gogh in the Van Gogh wing.

  We then went to a cheese and wine tasting at the Reypenaur cheese factory, a very fancy cheese place in Amsterdam.  Apparently Amsterdam is known for its cheese, which I did not know, but after this tasting I am very appreciative of fine cheese.  It was amazing.  We tasted 7 different kinds of cheese, and had to rate them and talk about them on this little scoring sheet.  He also gave us different kinds of wine to go with the cheese, because apparently certain wines complement certain kinds of cheese and others detract from the cheese.  For me, the wine always ruined the cheese.  I really don't understand why people like wine--it's so bitter and has the worst aftertaste, even the expensive stuff.

Waiting for the wine and cheese tasting! It was so sunny outside.

 Our next stop was prostitutes.

I suppose I should throw in a disclaimer.  We did not actually hire any, but we walked around the infamous Red Light district just to see.  The most ubiquitous store were very explicit sex shops that made me feel awkward just by walking past them.   There were also many "coffee shops" whose doors leaked marijuana smoke that reeked (smells like skunks, eww.  No, Mommy and Daddy, I didn't have any, don't worry.)  And there were also prostitutes.

The prostitutes stood in these large windows, posing in very tiny lingerie and stretching "seductively" (I actually thought it was closer to ridiculous).  Because it was the middle of the day, we didn't see very many, but even the ones we did see just looked cheap and sad.

After each corner we turned made us feel more uncomfortable, we headed back to the hostel for some food and Facebook.

Amsterdam, Day 2

Our second day in Amsterdam, we awoke very early to go see the Dutch Resistance Museum, which details the Dutch resistance to the Nazis who occupied the Netherlands.  Now, I am not a history fan by any stretch of the imagination.  History museums generally involve just reading long blocks of boring stuff about wars and politics, with a few pictures thrown in to keep the attention of people like me.  This history museum, though, was fascinating, probably because it was designed for students with a three-year-old's attention span.  There were so many interactive parts--you pulled out knobs to read more, flipped little flaps to see pictures, pressed buttons, lifted up covers, and investigated squirrely corners.  I'm pretty sure that's what kept me sane and interested in (of all things) history for almost three hours.

My mind has been so jammed full of Nazi history for the past few weeks, so I'm not positive how much I can remember, but it seems like the Dutch people adapted pretty well to the German occupation.  The Nazis tried to integrate as much as possible to try to win them over to their side.  In the beginning, this worked fairly well, but as time went on and their treatment of the Jews started to become more awful, the resistance movement picked up.  There didn't seem to be many outright shoot-outs or anything violent, but more passive protests like labor strikes or refusing to volunteer for German factories, etc.

Strange sculptures in the park across from the Dutch Resistance Museum.  Sadly, there was no picture-taking at the museum, but I think these will suffice.

I don't understand.

My dad's favorite nickname for himself.  IT IS REAL!

Dutch tulips!

 After the Resistance Museum, we headed down to the Heineken factory for a tour, but detoured down a market street where we ate heavenly fries and I bought three (3!) headscarves for a paltry 3 euros.  I was very excited.  We also ate fresh stroopwafels with chocolate, which was the most amazing thing I have ever tasted or will  ever taste. Yum.

The bustling marketplace.

 The Heineken tour was nice, but I'd like to think the Guinness factory in Dublin is much better.  It was less informative but more technological, with things like "Make your own Heineken music video!" or "bottle your own Heineken!" for the low low price of 7.99.  We did get a complimentary half-pint of Heineken with the tour, though; I tasted one sip and immediately gave it away.  Like I've said before, I really, really hate beer.

My free Heineken, which I promptly gave away.

 The Heineken tour was quickly followed by a relaxing canal cruise that brought us around the canals of Amsterdam.  It was a "guided" tour, meaning everyone had a headset that blared a pre-recorded tape of this supposedly old married couple who told us the highlights of the city.  The couple would have these strange, awkward interactions where they talked about their honeymoon, fake children, and other things in their too-happy, white-picket-fence voices.

We got off the tour and walked over the the famous "i amsterdam" sign and took some cool pictures.  The letters are short enough to climb on, which was great fun.  Then it was time to go home, pack, and prepare for Berlin...