Wednesday, December 8, 2010

"Ken, I grew up in Dublin. I love Dublin. If I grew up on a farm, and was retarded, Bruges might impress me but I didn't, so it doesn't." Ray (From the movie 'In Bruges'): Thanksgiving Weekend 2010 Part II - Bruges

The Friday afternoon train ride from Amsterdam to Bruges was easy enough.  This was my first real European railroad experience by myself.  It was kind of confusing and I couldn’t make heads or tails of much on the train schedules, but I just asked a lot of questions to any available conductor and other passengers.  I always have some anxiety about exactly where the train is headed as it pulls away from the station, and it is always a relief when it actually stops at one of the expected cities on the way to the ultimate destination.  Fortunately, this trip only had one transfer in Antwerp.  The Antwerp station is architecturally beautiful and all the different tracks are layered on different floors connected by escalators.

Antwerp Train Station

When I got off the train in Bruges, there was a cold, slushy rain coming down.  I broke out the map in my Rick Steves book and plotted the route to get to my hotel.  I opened my umbrella and headed out the doors of the station lobby into the street.  It was supposed to be only a 20-25 minute walk to the center of the medieval city.  The guidebook recommended taking a bus or taxi, but I always prefer to walk anyway.  Why should this trip be any different?  There were many other tourists coming and going from the station, so I assumed that I was headed in the right direction and that I’d soon see the spires of the churches and the top of the famous bell tower (near which my hotel was located).  I won’t go into detail of my ridiculous thought process because I am still pretty embarrassed about it… 
I normally don’t get lost and I have an excellent sense of direction, but for a variety of reasons, that did not turn out to be the case that day.  After almost an hour and a half of walking with my backpack and duffle bag and asking for directions, I finally made it to my hotel.  I just couldn’t figure out what the heck had gone wrong.  The streets on the map had more or less lined up and the street names seemed to match…  What went wrong, I don’t know.  However, I do know that I saw parts of greater Bruges that most tourists do not get to see (and frankly they aren’t missing a thing).   Although, I was definitely curious about what went wrong, I expected to figure it out before I needed to make it back to the train station to leave on Sunday.  But, whatever…. I was finally at the hotel and ready to go explore the historic center of Bruges.
Dieltiens B&B: very nice, cozy, and only 60 Euros a night

It started snowing just as I left the hotel that evening.  The falling snow added to the beauty of walking the dimly lit streets and bridges on the way to Market Square.  


The Christmas decorations and lights were hanging from lampposts and storefronts.  In in the center of Burg Square, there was a forty foot Christmas tree in front of City Hall.  When I made it to Market Square, there was a large winter festival underway.  The skating rink in the center of the square was surrounded by wooden huts with vendors selling local arts, crafts, souvenirs, hot chocolate, Belgian waffles, beer, and more.  All that, combined with the rink-side speakers blaring Meatloaf’s “Paradise by the Dashboard Light,” made for a perfect Christmasy evening.  Europeans are funny like that.

The next morning I got up early to begin my big tour of Bruges.  I started out at the bell tower that was built in the 13th century.  I was there as soon as it opened and managed to be the first one up the 366 stairs (I only had to push a few Japanese tourists out of the way to be the big winner).  The view from the belfry was expansive and the snow-covered roofs looked like something from a postcard.  



After making my way down from the top of the bell tower, I was off to the canals for a tour of the city by boat.  In 1250, Bruges was the largest city in Europe and a busy center of trade.  The canals were originally part of the city’s moat, but had been extended and enlarged to permit ships from the North Sea to reach Bruges.  Nowadays, however, no commercial ships use the canals and the only vessels permitted are tourist boats.  The ride was about a half hour long and it was a scenic and relaxing way to view the city’s buildings, bridges, and waterways.

Bruges flag
After the canal trip, I resumed my walking tour in Burg Square and visited the Basilica of the Holy Blood.  This Catholic church is nestled in the corner of the square, with gleaming gold knights and ladies on its gray façade.  It was built in 1150 by a Flemish soldier, Derrick (aka Thierry) of Alsace, after he returned home from the Second Crusade.  The patriarch of Jerusalem had given the knight the relic of Christ’s blood in appreciation for rescuing his city from the Muslims.  Several drops of blood had been washed from Christ’s body and preserved in a rock-crystal vial by Joseph of Arimethea (yes, the same person who kept the Holy Grail in Indiana Jones and the Last Crusade).  Derrick donated the blood to the city of Bruges and built the Basilica to house the relic.  Over the next two centuries, the old, dried blood often returned to its liquid state (supposedly on every Friday and verified by thousands of pilgrims from all over Europe who trekked to Bruges to venerate it) before drying up for good in 1325.  


Not my picture...  but this is the vial.
As I was walking around the upper chamber of the church, an announcement was made that the relic was about to be removed from the tabernacle and visitors would have an opportunity to touch and venerate it.  After a brief ceremony and prayer, people lined up and began to walk single file to the altar.   The relic looked exactly as it does in the picture I’ve included.  There were multiple signs and announcements prohibiting photographs, but that didn’t deter many people from snapping pictures.  I usually don’t have a problem sneaking a photo or two, but on this occasion I figured that if Church authorities didn’t want me to take a picture of Jesus’ blood, I had better just follow the instructions.  I already have enough things to explain to God when I make it to the pearly gates...
From there I resumed my little walking tour and began heading to the Groenige Museum, stopping to pick up some fries and a waffle on the way.  (The waffles are absolutely delicious.  They sell them individually and they are pleasantly sweet.  You can get them with all sorts of toppings, but the plain ones were good enough for me.)  There were also some very interesting chocolate shops…  additional pictures are at the end.
Belgian Chocolate
After scoring a discounted ticket to the Groenige Museum from a large group of French people who had bought too many tickets, I made it into the special “Van Eyck to Durer Exhibition.”  After all these years, my one college art class, Northern Renaissance Art, was to finally going to pay off!  The exhibit was actually pretty interesting and there were many famous works by Jan van Eyck (who lived and worked in Bruges), Hugo van der Goes, Rogier van der Weyden, Dieric Bouts, Hans Memling, Albrecht Durer, and others.  My favorite paintings were Bouts’ “Road to Paradise” and another one that showed the baby Jesus getting circumcised (they never showed us that one in college…).  Unfortunately, the special exhibit meant that they weren’t displaying the Hieronymus Bosch paintings normally there …  his works depicting Hell are the best. (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Bosch_laatste_oordeel_drieluik.jpg)  

I didn't know my cell phone had a flash until I took this....  I got far too much attention when I snapped this; I said "Entschuldigen Sie!" and hustled off to the next room.  Germans are so rude...

The next stop was the Church of Our Lady, which was built by a wealthy Bruges family in the 1200s.  Besides having the tallest church spire in Belgium (368 feet), it contains Michelangelo’s Madonna and Child (1504).  This was his only sculpture to leave Italy during his lifetime.
Church of Our Lady in scaffolding

Michelangelo's Madonna and Child in the Church of Our Lady

The rest of the afternoon was spent just wandering the remaining parts of historic Bruges – the Bejinhof, a tour of De Halve Maan Brewery (the only remaining brewery in town and FYI it takes 7 liters of water to make just 1 liter of beer), and Minnewater and Astrid Parks.


Astrid Park - Kept looking for the alcoves...

Minnewater Bridge leading into town





Finally, it was time to go scope out the route to the train station and buy the ticket for my trip to the Brussels airport the next morning.  Following the map was easy enough and getting there was no problem.  But as I approached the station and entered the main doors, the entrance and lobby looked totally different (the station seemed 20 years older) and I had to wonder if I had been at a different station the previous day.  Before buying my ticket at the counter, I just had to do some looking around and pressed on through the station.  I went down a hall, turned to walk past the tracks, and sure enough there was the large lobby that I had exited from the previous day.  Turns out that was the BACK of the station…  so I had walked off in exactly the opposite direction of where I intended.  Damn, that was one of the stupidest things I have ever done.  I should have just wised-up and back-tracked, but I had stubbornly kept walking.  Lesson learned.  Fortunately, I was able to buy my ticket for the next day’s trip and then have an uneventful walk back to the hotel.  It’s worth noting that I did easily see the city’s spires and towers when I left through the station’s front doors.  At least I was right about that.  And I got some exercise.

Overall, I had a great holiday and I enjoyed experiencing both Amsterdam and Bruges.  It’s almost too bad that the Netherlands and Belgium were not part of the Axis Alliance in World War II because they would be great places to have conquered and located a nice U.S. Naval Hospital.
The hotel and the canal where Colin Farrell was in the shootout in the movie "In Bruges"
Where I ate dinner both nights.
Belgians make chocolate everything!


The perfect stocking stuffer for my urologist friends....  

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

"Well, you can walk into a movie theater in Amsterdam and buy a beer. And I don't mean just like in no paper cup, I'm talking about a glass of beer." Vincent Vega : Thanksgiving Weekend 2010 Part I - Amsterdam

When I found out that I was not going to be on call for the Thanksgiving holiday weekend, I began thinking of cities in Europe that I wanted to visit.  I narrowed the list down to a few places that would be great, but it was actually my parents who recommended that I go and check out Amsterdam and Bruges.  I'd always wanted to see Amsterdam, but it certainly wasn't one of the places that had been at the top of my list.   After all, I'm not really a pot-smoking, prostitute-visiting type of guy.  (Maybe my parents had gotten sick of hearing me carry on about some of the sub-optimal things in Naples and were trying to send me a message...)  They described some of the sights to see and things to do, and that was well enough, but what sealed it was when they said that everyone there speaks English.  Done and done.  So I boldly set out find out if one can have fun in Amsterdam without using drugs or paying for sex.


Hotel Van Onna
I arrived in Amsterdam at the Schiphol Airport at 6:30 pm on Wednesday night.  The signs in the airport are ALL in English, not even an option of Dutch.  It was about a 20 minute train ride to the Amsterdam Centraal Station.  After stepping outside, I was immediately struck by the number of bicycles everywhere.  Hundreds of people pedaling by to and from the train station and huge "garages" next to the station designed for and filled with bikes (the garages were built both standing on dry land and on large barges docked on the canal).  The walk from the train station to my hotel was easy enough, just down Damrak street, across Dam Square, and over a few bridges into the Jordaan neighborhood.   The Hotel Van Onna (also a Rick Steves recommendation) was very clean, efficient (again, a no frills kind of place), well-located, and a pretty good deal at 45 Euros a night.

After relaxing for a few minutes, I decided to head out and see what I could see.  I retraced my steps back towards Dam Square.  It was captivating to see the luminescent orange and blue hands and hours of the church clock towers throughout the city.  Christmas decorations were already up and there were some additional displays in the square in preparation for the opening of a new H&M store (I only write that for Maura, who would have loved it). 


 Just walking along the brightly lit Damrak street with its Vodka Museum and Sex Museum was an educational experience (but it still didn’t quite prepare me for what was to come just a few more blocks away).  I then crossed the canal and sampled some local beers at some of the bars on the smaller neighborhood streets.  There were some tourists out, but it was mostly locals that I wound up talking with. 


From there, I decided to explore the Red Light District (which literally was right around the corner) just to see what there was to see.  It certainly lived up to its reputation.  It was not surprising to learn that this was where Quentin Tarantino holed up in a hotel for three months to write Pulp Fiction.  As you walk to get closer to the center of the Red Light District, there is a vast increase in the number of sex shops, porn stores, and sex shows, etc.  The various “accessories” for sale are just everywhere.  All sorts of things things that I didn’t even know existed.  Crazy.   There are also many more of the “coffeeshops” (which are pubs selling marijuana) and you can certainly smell it in the air.

Coffeeshop...


The most tame shop window that I felt I could share with my family reading...
A neighborhood shop
The Red Light District
Dam Square




After walking a bit further in, there really are glowing red lights everywhere.  The lights form a frame to the many glass doors and windows, behind which display all sorts of women, in all sorts of revealing “outfits.”  Even casually walking through the neighborhood is a fairly interactive experience – the girls tap on the glass, point, wave, and call out to the potential customers.  If you didn’t consider that they only wanted your money, it would do wonders for a guy’s ego.  One girl I walked by waved and mouthed the words, “Why not?!”  Number one, there is the killer exchange rate…. but there are a few other reasons I could think of.  (For the record, it apparently costs “40 Euros for good sex.”  I don’t know exactly what that entails, but since I am now a blogger and an influential member of the media, I figured it was my job to at least find out the going rate.)  Overall, the girls were very attractive.  But there was also something for everyone and their various tastes, if you know what I mean.  It was just such a strange and unusual sight to see.  For all the “dirtiness” of the whole, scene it actually didn’t feel that dirty and, aside from the smut, it was just like a normal part of a nice, canal-lined, European street.  It seemed to be mostly exploring tourists and college-aged kids walking the streets.  There were some shady characters out and about, but it wasn’t nearly as “scary” as some of the guidebooks would have you believe.  Especially, Rick Steves – who I have decided is a very helpful and informative guide, but kind of a wuss.  Of course, all of his readers aren’t necessarily as badass as me, so who knows…

The next morning was Thanksgiving.  It certainly didn’t seem like Thanksgiving to me.  But, it was worth remembering that before the pilgrims came to the New World they did spend their first year outside of England in the more religiously-tolerant Amsterdam (http://www.awesomestories.com/history/pilgrims-america/life-in-amsterdam). 

After leaving my hotel that morning, I grabbed a quick bite at the McDonalds on Damrak (so what?   I do what I want), and began a walking tour of the city.  The city does have canals, but it is nothing like Venice - regular streets run along side the canals, the are many cars, millions of bikes, and a lot of trolleys.  I initially wandered around Dam Square (where the city started back in 1250, when fishermen blocked the Amstel River with a dam and created a small village) and then began heading south through the city.  Highlights were the Hidden Catholic Church (from 1578 on for two-hundred years, Catholicism was officially illegal, though tolerated), the Amsterdam History Museum, the Beginhof (a quiet courtyard with a church, circled by houses that had belonged to lay women who had dedicated their lives to God), and the Rijksmuseum (lots of art… Dutch Masters, Vermeer, Rembrandt, you know…). 

The Rijksmuseum



My favorite Rembrandt at the history museum
It was fun meeting people along the way, too.  I especially enjoyed talking to Dave, the bartender working at an Irish pub I stopped at (it was cold and I needed a couple of Guinesses to gear up for the art museum…).   He actually was from Ireland, but his thing is traveling to different countries and working there for a while.  He had most recently worked construction in Australia and before that he had worked at a bar in Chicago.  Unfortunately for him, his time in Chicago had been cut short by an alcohol-related incident that resulted in a fall from a balcony and a subsequent talus fracture.  He had to return home to Ireland to get the rehab he needed paid for.  (But he is back playing soccer, so some orthopaedist served him well.  That’s a bad fracture to have.)  Next he is thinking of heading to Barcelona.  Not sure why he doesn’t want to go to Naples…  trash and pizza, baby. 

Bike Barge... one of many

Rijksmuseum
That evening I went to the Anne Frank House, which was just blocks away from my hotel.  This is where the Frank family (Anne, sister, father, and mother) and four other Amsterdam Jews hid from Nazi persecution for two years during World War II.  The lower floors had been the offices and warehouse of Otto Frank’s (the father) spice-selling business.  Behind a bookcase was hidden a narrow stairway to the upper floors where Anne and the others had hidden.  It was a pretty moving experience and it was pretty hard not to tear throughout the tour.  In the different rooms were various videos showing interviews of family friends and those who had helped the Franks.  In Anne’s room, some of the clippings and pictures she had decorated with were preserved. 
Anne Frank House and Museum
There were also quotes from Anne’s diary on display throughout the tour - it was just amazing that a 13-14 year-old girl had such mature and thought-provoking things to say about life and their unfortunate situation.  If you haven’t read the book (as I haven’t, some of the quotes are worth checking out).

On August 4th, 1944, the Nazis entered the hidden annex (no one knows who tipped them off) and arrested the Jews in hiding.  They Nazis did give the Franks time to pack, but then demanded their valuables and stuffed them into Anne’s suitcase – after dumping its contents (including her diaries) onto the floor.  Unfortunately, only Otto Frank survived the concentration camp.  After the war, he returned to the house in Amsterdam and was given Anne’s diaries, which had been saved by one of the women who helped them in hiding.

Thanksgiving Dinner
After that, it was an exciting Thanksgiving dinner for me at the Bijenkorf (a shopping center) food court.  Sure, it was a little non-traditional, but it was pretty good.  I absolutely missed my family, friends, and America, but I couldn’t complain after a little WW II-Nazi-holocaust perspective.

And the next morning I was off to Bruges… more typing later in the week...