A for Amsterdam

Goedemorgen from Amsterdam, time delayed after an internet-free two weeks.

Lorne and I were on a Netherlands cycle trip, but before and after we spent time in Amsterdam, and here are some of our memories of that time...

Amsterdam is named after the Amstel River in the 13th century. 200 years ago Amsterdam became the capital of the Netherlands.

We flew KLM Montreal-Amsterdam direct, with a KLM bus to take us each way from the Ottawa train station to Montreal. The KLM flights, food, service, were excellent (except for Kung Foo Panda as the in-flight movie).

We were waiting at the Ottawa train station with a tall older Dutch woman from Arnprior. When she saw us again at the airport, she beckoned for us to join her for the cart ride through the terminal to the departure gate. Wheeee.
Waiting for the flight, I hesitated at the snack bar over what kind of tea to order. The well-pierced teenage server with a ring in his lip told me, “Green tea. It’s the healthiest. Lots of antioxidants.”
At the Montreal airport there were footstools on some of the seats in the waiting area, making it easier to actually rest.
Aug. 26
With a headwind, we arrive a half hour early and are at the Ibis hotel by 7 a.m. Amsterdam time. It’s a very, very tiny room, but a short walk from the train station and handy to everything. The hotel is across from a two-storey bike parking lot with thousands of bikes, and because we’re near the train station, there are thousands more bikes for blocks around.
Weather is typical Amsterdam, cool, cloudy, drizzly.
Grazing walk around for snack bar meals including falafel and sushi (Louise) and herring sandwich, cheese sandwich and two Heinekins (Lorne).
Argentinian steak restaurants and shawarma places exceed all others.
Aug. 27

Take a city tour. Wait for the lift bridge to go down near the site of new central library built two years ago, and the Tower of Tears from centuries ago where women and children cried as men went to sea.
More cyclists than cars wait at the bridge, riders on spray painted bikes, wearing high heels, suits, dressed for work. Bike lanes, bike parking everywhere. New architecture as interesting as old, plus new uses for old shipping warehouses. There are more than 1300 bridges, many dating from the 1600s. It’s like Venice, only Amsterdam has moved on into the 21st century.

17th century botanic garden... “Skinny Bridge” built by two sisters living across canal from each other in 1670 and didn’t want to boat in... Floating flower market...

The bus tour includes a visit to a “Diamond Museum” which is like Amway. You get in there, and they lock the door of the room for 20 minutes while they try to sell you diamonds.


Touring the Diamond Museum we were the only English speakers (rest were Spanish) and on the canal boat,all but us were Russian.

In the afternoon we went to the Rijks Museum to see masterpieces by Vermeer, Rembrandt etc from the Dutch Golden Age, the 1600s, and the took a canal boat cruise. There are ferries that go back and forth every 12 minutes, for pedestrians and cyclists only, and they are free. Saw houseboats, tall ships, all kinds of boats.

There are 2,500 houseboats in the city, many illegal. They live year-round on the boats, paying the city a fee. Many have flower boxes and plants along the deck. One had a sign “See what a houseboat looks like inside” and they made some money.

The railings along the canals are there to prevent cars from going into the water, but there is still a special dredge unit only to get cars out of the canal.The railings are owned by the insurance companies, not by the municipal government.

The boat guide said there are 725,000 people in Amsterdam, 42 per cent of non-Dutch ancestry, and 50 per cent one-person families.

Walking back from the boat, we stopped for pannenkoeken (pancakes). Lorne had Appel (apple) and I had Kaas (cheese). My second choice would have been Citroen (lemon.)

Still no sun. It feels like Whitehorse in November to wake up in the almost dark and to continue that dullness all day. People dress in black and gray.The only splashes of color are the spray-painted pink and fluorescent orange bikes which stand out among the racks of black bikes, some dotted with leis or fake leaves for identification.

Aug. 28
Take the bus to Brussels an Antwerp. Just tell me why the “Manneken Pis”, the peeing boy fountain, is so popular there are crowds around it all the time. Hundreds of ‘boy’ souvenirs from chocolate suckers to bells and statues for your garden.
Had lunch of moules et frites (mussels) at a cafe overlooking Brussels’ beautiful main square.
Bus got caught in a traffic jam on the way to Antwerp because of a tunnel accident, and we sat still in traffic for hours, coloring our impression of Antwerp. Some old buildings, a long waterfront, and a McDonald’s handy as always when you need a bathroom.

Aug. 29
Spent the morning visiting the rosebush lined village of Watergang outside Amsterdam, home for 50 years to our friend Puck’s mother.
It’s a tiny, Thomas Hardy-like hamlet with sheep, ducks, roosters and a canal. She took us for a walk along the cobblestones by the water and we had lunch at the De Wetgmijzer restaurant beside the street. She says the small red clay roofed houses in Watergang now go for over $1 million because it’s so serene and yet 10 minutes by frequent bus from Amsterdam. She didn’t like the village back when her husband chose it, but she’s happy at 90 to be there now.

We leave Amsterdam for our bike trip and continue our exploration a week later...

Sept. 5
We visit the Jewish Historical Museum, part of a complex of four restored synagogues including the Portuguese Synagogue from the 1600s. (In 1492 Spain expelled its Jewish population. Many fled to Portugal but were forcibly baptized. More than 100 years later, descendants of those victims of the Inquisition who wanted to live as Jews began to arrive in Amsterdam. Since the Dutch Republic was at war with Spain, they called themselves “Portuguese Jews” to avoid being identified with the Spanish enemy.

Letting everyone in to the country in the 1600s was for economic reasons, but it set the precident for Dutch liberalness in future.

The synagogue was undamaged even in the 2nd World War and is an amazing building with giant brass chandeliers that hold 1,000 candles, the only lighting in the unheated building.

The historical exhibit includes moving paintings and drawings of the early days by artists of the time. There is an excellent oil painting of a poor, sad old Jewish man sitting on the stoop of his shop. It was so popular that prints were made, but the commentary said the Jewish community was upset and asked why a young, attractive, well-off Jewish person couldn’t have been portrayed instead.
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We have also of course gawked curiously at the “dark” Amsterdam nightly information tours offered by a former prostitute. The sailors are gone; the area is safe, the pamphlet says. We walked past the street level windows illuminated by dark fluorescent light where women wearing little beckon men on the street. We saw several go in the adjoining door to be led to the back.

There are also lots of “coffee houses” which are marijuana cafes, where people sit on cushions in the windows and smoke from hookahs, and weed and seed shops selling cannabis lollipops, starter kits for plant growing etc.

Sept. 6
We walked the city all day, spending time in The Rembrandt House where he lived 1639-1656, until he went bankrupt.There was a list of his possessions and all has been re-created with furniture from the time, including the short box cabinet bed - because people sat up to sleep so the blood wouldn’t leave their heads.

The most impressive thing again about Saturday night in Amsterdam is that once again the sidewalks are full, the cafes are packed, the bike lanes are busy and there are almost no cars on the streets, just a few taxis.

Sept. 7

Sunday morning and rain and wind again, ignored by the many walkers and cyclists. We walk for the last time down the Bloedstraat Red Light District, with only a few lights on and windows occupied - an( unreciprocated) hopeful wave and smile to Lorne; down the Chinatown streets with notices in Dutch not to lean your bike on the windows, past the flea market stalls, with mostly African textiles, carvings and jewelry, and all the while the church bells chime across the city.

We walk from our hotel to the train station for our train ride to the airport, the end of two weeks without entering a car.

Tot Ziens (Goodbye) and Proost! (Cheers!)