"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).

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Anne_Frank

http://history1900s.about.com/od/annefrank/a/AnneFrankQuotes.htm

http://www.brainyquote.com/quotes/authors/a/anne_frank.html

On August 4^th, 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...