Amsterdam - Land of Canals and Bicycles

Friday, June 22, 2012
Amsterdam, Noord-Holland, Netherlands
The ferry terminal in Amsterdam isn't exactly in Amsterdam. It is in IJmuiden, which is about a thirty minute ride away. But there is a bus waiting right outside the terminal that takes passengers to the stop in front of the Hotel Victoria across from Amsterdam's Central Station. It is not free, however, so be sure to have ten Euros.

Before I get into what we did while we were there, I want to take a minute to tell you a few things about Amsterdam. My title says a lot. It truly is a city of canals and bicycles. There are more than sixty-two miles of canals and 1,500 bridges in the city of Amsterdam. The canals were originally developed to stimulate trade, but they also create the ambiance of the city, whether you are walking around along the water, crossing the bridges, watching the seagulls, or sitting in a cafe'.

























 
 
Bicycles are also everywhere in Amsterdam. I read that there are currently 800,000 people in the city and 600,000 bikes. This does not seem at all like an unreasonable number to me. It is an extremely bike friendly city, flat and easy to ride, with marked bike lanes everywhere. Tip: Pay attention to where you are walking. If you inadvertently step into a bike path, you are taking your life in your hands. The cyclists do not stop. If they are feeling particularly generous, they will warn you with a bell. If not, you will get told off as they whiz by. I found this out the hard way.


 

And then there are the coffeeshops. They, too, are all over the city. The Bulldog  was the original coffeeshop and is a popular tourist destination. Drug laws in the Netherlands are complicated, and I am not even going to try to explain them. If you are interested, follow this link for more information. The upshot of it all is that coffeeshops are legally licensed to sell pot and hash, but not alcohol, for personal use. There is some question as to whether or not non-Dutch citizens will be able to continue to frequent these shops after December of this year. The previous government passed a law stating that foreigners would no longer be allowed to enter coffeeshops, but that government is no longer in power after the recent September elections. Again, this is not something I am going to give a lot of space to. If you want to know more, check out what the Bulldog website has to say about it. 











And, so, on to our story:
 
Bill and I had arranged when he left that he would meet me wherever the ferry left him off upon his arrival. He was not at the terminal so I figured he'd be at the Hotel Victoria. He wasn't. I had not been in contact with him since he left Alndyke Farm on Monday so I was a little concerned about what was happening. Let me rephrase - I was a lot concerned. It wasn't that I was afraid of being in Amsterdam alone. I knew I could find a place to stay and negotiate myself around and even get myself back to Croatia. But not knowing if Bill had arrived safely or if something had happened to him while there was kind of freaking me out. I had emailed him repeatedly since Tuesday morning when he should have arrived and had not heard anything. Then, when he wasn't at the bus drop, I kind of started to panic. But panicked or not, I knew I had to come up with a plan. I couldn't just stand on the corner all day. 

One of the things about traveling in Europe is that you are stuck with your luggage in ways you're just not in the States. So here I was, in the rain again, not knowing where Bill was or where I was going, with two suitcases to drag around. This would just not do. So, I walked across to Central Station and once again checked my luggage.

While there, I found a free wifi connection and emailed Bill one last time. I figured if he didn't answer within thirty minutes, I would just go find a place to stay, come back for my luggage, spend the weekend in Amsterdam, see my friend Irma (part of the reason for going to A'dam), and then make my way to Croatia where I hoped I'd find him. 

I wandered around Central Station checking my email every few minutes, but there wasn't much to do there, so I decided not to wait the whole thirty minutes. I would check one more time and then move on with my plan. Amazingly enough, there was an email from Bill telling me where he was. It was sort of like the Room of Requirement in like in Harry Potter except this was the Email of Requirement that didn't come until the exact time I really needed it. 

I found out later that he had been at the bus stop to meet me, not knowing that the ferry had been delayed. He had gone to great lengths to find me it turns out, and that just about the time the bus let me off in front of the hotel was when he was schlepping all over the place trying to find a public phone and contact number for the ferry terminal to see if the ferry had been lost at sea. He had been at the bus stop for two hours and had missed me by minutes. Finding out that the ferry had arrived but not being able to find out if I was on it or not, he went back to his hotel and got online to see if there had been a message from me. So, we finally connected. 

He was at the Hotel the Crown, which turned out to be within walking distance of the station so we agreed that I'd walk over to meet him and then that we'd both come back to the station for my luggage. I didn't have a map so while I was still connected to the wifi, I did a search to see where the place was.

Of course, I lost the wifi connection as soon as I left the station so I couldn't check my map or directions. I had tried to memorize it, but at some point, my memory broke down. And it was pouring rain by this time with gusty winds that were constantly turning my flimsy umbrella inside out. So, to get out of the rain, I stopped to ask directions at a place called the Old Nickel. The owner had never heard of Hotel the Crown, but he let me use his wifi to recall the map. He then looked at it and told me that I was only about a block and a half away and gave me directions. He was so nice that on a whim I asked him if he had any rooms for the weekend. I don't really know why because we already had a place to stay other than I felt as if I should since I had only stopped in to ask directions to somewhere else. He said his place was full but there was a sister hotel called the Old Quarter just down the adjacent street that might have openings. I told him I'd check it out and then went on my way. It turns out that it was a good thing I asked.

I finally found the hotel and took immediate note that I was no longer in first class. But the place seemed OK, and our room was on the first floor so it was only up one flight of steps. (In Europe, the street floor is the ground floor, and the first floor is the one up the first flight of steps.) The room and bathroom were clean, and there was only one other room on the floor. This was good because it meant we'd only have to share the bathroom with whomever checked in to that room. It would have been an ideal situation if someone other than loud, drunk, obnoxious pigs had checked in! They hadn't been there thirty minutes when one of them threw up all over the bathroom. The others started yelling at him for messing up the bathroom until one of them had the bright idea that they should just "piss in the sink" in their room!!! How do I know this? Because they yelled it at the top of their lungs out in the hall right outside our door. Thank goodness there was a clean bathroom on the ground floor. There were six of them - three from the UK and three from Germany. After spending one, mostly sleepless night with them next door, we couldn't get to the Old Quarter fast enough to see if they had a room. On the way out, I saw one of the staff on her way up to clean. I felt sorry for her. 

The Old Quarter did have a room, thank goodness, so we moved. Granted it was smaller, but it was clean, the neighbors were quiet, and no one messed up the bathroom. We were on the fourth floor, which normally would have been a trial of luggage carrying, but wonder of wonders, this place had a lift! (Most European hostels and B&Bs don't. I meant it when I said you were stuck with your luggage.) Another plus for the Old Quarter was the food. The restaurant offered a discount to their guests so I decided to eat my dinners there. The first night, the waitress recommended the ribs. Usually when the wait staff recommends something, it's good so I ordered them. They were incredible! Melt in your mouth deliciousness. The plate was piled with them, too. I really shouldn't have eaten all of them, but there was no way I was leaving any behind. They were actually so good that I had them the next night, too. Later, I found out that they are a specialty of the house. 
















  
Before arriving in Amsterdam, I had made a list of things I wanted to do: meet my friend Irma (first and foremost), visit the Van Gogh Museum, visit the Anne Frank Museum, take a canal tour, take a bus tour, and walk around as much as I could taking pictures, It turns out that my list was ambitious for the amount of time we had there. Half of it happened. I met Irma, took a canal tour, and walked around taking pictures. 

I called Irma Friday evening, and we agreed to meet on Sunday, so on Saturday, Bill and I went on the canal tour. It was interesting, and I'm glad we did it, but I'm not sure it was the best way to see Amsterdam. The boat was very crowded so it was impossible to see everything or to get good pictures. However, I did see some incredible houseboat barges. After the tour, I wanted to go back to where they were and take pictures, so Bill and I walked over to that area. They are amazing. Some of them are quite plain. Others are beautifully done. One owner even had built a "yard" along the plank from the land to the barge. If I was ever to live in Amsterdam, that is where I'd like to live.




Since the  Anne Frank Museum. was in the same general area as the houseboats, we figured we'd kill two birds with one stone and visit it on the walk back to the hotel. The line was horrendous. I am much more willing to stand in line for something than Bill, who would have if I had really wanted to, but even I didn't want to stand in this one. We decided that this visit could wait until next time we were there and continued on our way.

That evening, Bill wanted to go wandering farther afield than I wanted to walk. I was still having pain and had had enough. So, he went out, and I stayed in. Mostly. I did take a walk to a corner store for some soda and snacks. While I was out, I saw this majestic Ibis just standing by the canal and was lucky enough to get a photo before it flew away. 










 
  
And did I mention that we were staying in the Red Light District?   For people elsewhere, this might conjure up pictures of a sleazy part of town with prostitutes hanging out on every street corner. That is not at all what it is like. The Red LIght District is an old and beautiful part of the city. Prostitution is legal in the Netherlands, but prostitutes do not stand on the street corners; there are houses dedicated to the profession, and the only way you know what they are is by the red light outside. The houses do not look sleazy, either. I actually stopped to look at a house on the street where I was walking Saturday evening thinking, "Wow. Someone has done a good job with this house. It's the best looking one on the street."  It was only when I looked more closely that I noticed the red light by the door. 

















 
  
On Sunday, I met Irma at the Central Station. While waiting, Bill had looked closely at the building, and as we were leaving, he pointed out the two towers to me. One was a clock tower - nothing new there - but the other was something I had never seen before, a wind direction indicator. It was fascinating to watch it move as the wind changed.  


After leaving the station, we walked to the Old Quarter so that we could talk awhile and make a plan of what to do for the day. Irma and I have been FB friends for a few years, but we had never met face-to-face. We both later admitted that we started our time together with the attitude that if we met and then found we had nothing to say to each other that we'd make it a short visit. Well, that didn't happen. We spent the whole day walking, eating, talking, and talking, and talking.

The first thing we did was try to go to the Van Gogh Museum, but just as with the Anne Frank Museum, the line was totally prohibitive, not to mention that it was - guess? - dreary and cold. So we decided to have lunch instead. We went to the Small Talk Eating House, which was close to the museum and sat in the warm glass-enclosed front room so we had a good view of the street and cold gray day. I had the most delicious French Onion soup. It was just what I needed to get over the disappointment of not going to the museum. 

Tip: Either buy your museum tickets in advance so that you can skip the lines or don't visit Amsterdam on the weekend. By Monday the lines were cut by about two-thirds. 

After lunch, Irma and I met Bill at a cafe' in Leidseplein. We spent some time over coffee and talked about the various things to do in Amsterdam. At one point, Bill went to get something to eat, and when he came back, he said that the entire cafe' looked dark except where Irma and I were sitting. Apparently, we were under a light so that it looked like a spotlight was shining on us. Bill took a picture, but as sometimes happens with pictures, it doesn't do justice to what he saw.

As talk turned to all of the different types of museums in Amsterdam, I mentioned one that I had just read about that morning that caused Bill to totally roll his eyes. Anyone reading this who knows me knows why and just how much the The Museum of Bags and Purses would be the perfect museum for me. Irma said it was a lot of fun, but it closed in an hour so we didn't have time to go then. We decided that the next time I was there, she and I would definitely put it on our agenda. I'm betting that Bill will give this one a pass.









  
After the cafe', Bill left us, and Irma and I visited Dam Square. There I saw the Queen's Palace, a monument to WWII , and a huge shopping mall where Irma took me to a bag and purse store since we had missed out on the museum. Of course, I immediately saw a purse that I fell in love with. It was shining almost like a beacon in the display shouting, "Buy me! Buy me!" I didn't buy it because it was so expensive, but it was really hard to walk away from. 

From Dam Square, we took a leisurely walk down the street to the hotel. On the way, we saw some very interesting stores. Among the most ordinary (remember we were in the Red Light District) yet most interesting to me was The Red Shop. As you can see, everything in it was red. Hence, the name. Once back at the hotel, we sat in the pub until Irma had to leave. I was so glad we had decided to meet. I look forward to seeing her whenever I am back there. 





   
Sunday evening I ate in the restaurant and then retired to the room to read and sleep. Bill wandered the city. 

We decided to leave Monday evening. While waiting for Irma at Central Station, Bill had inquired about train routes home and discovered that the train we needed left at 19:00 every day so that would give us another entire day in Amsterdam without having to pay for a room. So, we checked out Monday morning, left our luggage in the hotel's security closet, and decided to roam the city. But first, we went to the station to make reservations for the train. What should have been simple turned into a complicated mess. Tip: If your credit card is a swipe card, be sure to have enough cash to pay for your train ticket before going to the station to purchase it. The station does take credit cards, but it is only set up for cards with chips, which are standard issue in Europe. Not so in the States. Our cards are swipe cards. Of course, I did not know this until it came time to pay. I didn't have the cash to cover the amount so I had to leave the window to go to the ATM to get money. I then discovered that the amount I needed exceeded my daily limit, and Bill had gone to check on something else so I couldn't get him to access his money. It looked as though we were going to be stuck in Amsterdam until we could amass the needed cash. This wouldn't have necessarily been a bad thing except that we were travel weary and ready to get home. Thank goodness, I had cash from the other countries we had visited during the year that I could exchange. I went and changed my American dollars, British pounds, Czech crowns, and Croatian kuna into Euros and came up with just enough to get us two tickets to Munich. I knew the Munich station took swipe cards because I had used one there just a few months ago. As Murphy would have it, Bill came back just as I had finished the purchase! 

We wanted to do different things with our day so we went our separate ways with the agreement to meet back at the hotel no later than 17:00. I decided to go back to the Van Gogh Museum. When I got there, I was delighted to see that there was barely any line at all so I happily joined the queue. The line moved fast, and I got to the window in record time, BUT then I discovered that unless I was buying two tickets that I could not use my credit card because they had a minimum charge. And of course, I did not have enough cash to pay for one ticket since I had just given it all to the ticket person at the train station. So, I still didn't get to go to the museum.

It was a mild day, so I decided to spend some time reading in a nearby park where ironically enough, I ran into Bill! We spent some time talking but then he wanted to go do a little more roaming so we split up again. I stayed at the park with my book for another hour.

When I left, I went back to Dam Square. I had not been able to get that way-too-expensive purse out of my head and just had to see it one more time. I thought if I saw it I might get it out of my system. You know how sometimes you build something up in your head to be more than it is, but then when you get it, you realize that it wasn't all that great after all? I was hoping that's what would happen when I saw that purse. Big mistake. All it did was make me want it more. I resisted, though. I wish I could say I was glad I did - virtue and all that - but truly I'm not. I really wanted that bag. 

I got back to the hotel around 15:00 so I had two hours to wait for Bill. I ordered a soda and sat reading my book. By and by, I struck up a conversation with a man who told me that he had been coming to the Old Quarter for thirty years and that he wouldn't consider staying anywhere else because of the atmosphere and the fact that the staff was more like a family than a bunch of employees. I could tell what he meant just from the few days we were there. I knew then that Bill and I had found our "go to" place in Amsterdam. 

Bill joined me at 17:00, we gathered our luggage, and made our way to Central Station to begin our overnight trip to Munich. 


*Scroll down for more pictures. 



 


 

 

 

 


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