I just got back from two weeks in Amsterdam. Here’s the Reader’s Digest Condensed version of different thoughts and memories of the trip:
Amsterdam is all cobblestones, brownstone buildings, unbelievable churches, canals. It was cold, blustery, misty, foggy, and occasionally outright raining. It was just the strangest juxtaposition of Old World Europe and Mtv. You could find a wood-working shop that wouldn’t have been out of place 200 years ago, and just around the corner would be a Gap and a Footlocker. Strange.
Taxis in NY and SF look like they are from the great depression. Horrible sedans with some relic of a meter device grafted onto the dash with baling wire and chewing gum. Taxis in Amsterdam look like they are from the Jetsons. Brand new cars (often Mercedes sedans), in perfect condition, driven by immaculately groomed 40-ish men in coats and ties who speak five languages. Perfectly integrated into the dash is a computer console that plays television while you’re in Park, and while driving gives the driver full GPS read-out and directions and gives the rider nicely presented mileage and fare. Amazing.
Dutch food leaves a lot to be desired. Lots of fat; butters, thick slaps of goat cheese, thick cream sauces. Heart patients wouldn’t be happy. Service is odd too. The waitrons are very cheerful and pleasant, but they just don’t get in a rush for anything. After several experiences where it took 20 minutes even to be asked if we wanted something to drink, we simply bought a deck of cards and started playing cards at the table, at least up to the point that food actually arrived. The waiters seemed to think it was the most natural thing in the world.
Seeing actual Van Gogh paintings up close was pretty spectacular. Being able to actually discern individual brush strokes, and the tiny dots and swipes of color that look damn near random up close, until you pull back to absorb the larger picture… that was pretty great.
The Modern Art museum actually had a hall with original works by Robert Crumb, he of the underground comix scene. Nothing beats eavesdropping on Dutch schoolgirls reading Robert Crumb comix aloud to each other in a giggling, heavily accented voice. “Look at zee tits on zat gurl! I yam goink to schtick my dick in her!” Priceless.
While in Amsterdam, I bought a graphic novel (comic books for grownups; no superheroes in tights, bigger pricetag) called “From Hell”. This was the book from which they made the recent Jack the Ripper movie of the same name (starring Johnny Depp and Heather Graham). So, I would lie in the hotel fighting jet lag, reading this book about Victorian Whitechapel, cobblestones, brownstone builds, fog, men in overcoats, prostitutes and these utterly horrific murders. And then I would get up and got out to a coffee shop, traipsing through crowded streets of cobblestones, brownstones, fog, men in overcoats, past the red-light doorfronts. Nice mind games.
A tour book said outright, “Dutch men will piss anywhere”, and the city has yielded to the err, umm, flow of the people. Amsterdam has a large number of outdoor “urinoirs”; outdoor cast iron stalls you can walk up to and relieve yourself with some pretense of privacy. On the weekends they put out more modern versions, plastic columns with receptacles on it where you can walk up and relieve yourself with virtually no privacy at all. No such convenience for women.
Absolutely everyone spoke clear English. Thank goodness.
The exchange rate changed in my favor while we were there. The final bill for the entire trip was so cheap, I almost wept. Dutch currency is gorgeous. Bright, colorful, interesting to look at.
We went to a bathhouse in an Art Deco building from the 1920s that was absolutely stunning, like Hearst Castle on a budget. And, I highly recommend sitting in a mixed gender steamroom with teenaged Dutch girls. Wow. Antigravity actually exists.
At least at one time, buildings in Amsterdam were taxed based on how much street frontage they took up; the width of the building. Hence, buildings tend to be really narrow. The Dutch have a fondness for unbelievably small, steep spiral staircases that are a challenge for big fat Americans with size 12 feet. Our hotel was one such building. Still, the view from our room was worth it.
I took about 300 photos on the digital camera, and then weeded out the cruft and got the stack down to about 150 worth keeping, three that I am especially happy with. (In all fairness, the first was taken by a friend of mine.) Here are smaller versions of the three:
Very interesting. I especially like the bit about the graphic novel messing with your head. And that last photo is great.
Beautiful pictures. When I visited Amsterdam I was a summer student in Brussels, so we didn’t stay long enough to really get a feel for the place. Mostly the group I was with just wanted to go oogling in the red light areas after visiting any one of the hash bars that abound. Woo.
Your post has made me want to go back and get the experiences that I wanted, but was denied, the first time around. Thank you for a more adult perspective on the city. Oh and the bit about the taxis, so true! And Americans like to think we are so advanced.