13 February 2015

I woke up about an hour from Amsterdam. We got to the city at about 10 a.m. and walked over to the hostel. Since our rooms were not ready, we left our luggage in storage and hit the town.

The Rijksmuseum as we were walking to the hostel

Some friends and I first went to grab lunch at a bakery/sandwich place around the corner. Also coffee, much much needed coffee. The serving lady was very understanding of our tired states and both the food and coffee were made fresh on the spot.

  After brunch we walked across the city towards the Anne Frank museum. The architecture of Amsterdam is absolutely gorgeous, but it is deceptively a friendly pedestrian city. The bicyclists will kill you, and it will be your fault. Just be mindful.

When we got to the Anne Frank House, there was quite the queue; we were in it for about an hour, so I took a few photos of the buildings around us. Also, this pigeon, which I have christened the Godpigeon, kept coming up to Connor and following him and strutting around him trying to assert his dominance. It was pretty amusing and a little intimidating as it kept following us down the line. Also, we were accosted by a guy wanting us to go on his boat tour, but we did not go since we already had plans for the rest of the day.

A small glimpse of the queue: we had been in line for about forty minutes at this point

I have no pictures from inside the Anne Frank House; it is requested that no one takes photos because 1) the diary pages could be damaged and 2) as a way to show respect for those who are there to honour the dead- a rule I was more than happy with which I was more than happy to comply. I am glad Erika gave me the final push I needed to go to the museum. It was sobering, emotional, and tiny and dark. And it was impossible to imagine people living there for years. It was frustrating to know how close Anne was to liberation. It was heartbreaking to see videos and photos of her grieving father after the war, trying to find his two little girls who, he learned, would never come home. It felt as though I was at a meeting place of all that is innocent and all that is evil in humanity. If any of yous are ever in Amsterdam, Go to the Anne Frank House; go honour and grieve for this family and what they represent on a larger scale.

 After we finished in the Anne Frank House, we crossed the canal over to a pancake cafe for second brunch/lunch/afternoon snack.

View from the bridge across from the Anne Frank House

A Famous Dutch Pancake

The pancake reminded me more of a crepe and the syrup more of molasses sauce. After we finished our pancakes we walked back to the hostel stopping at shops along the way. We found a fantastic vintage shops with clothes from maybe the '50s forwards. I found some great leather gloves to replace the ones that I forgot. After we put our bags in our room we went to take photos on the Iamsterdam sign in front of an ice rink behind the Rijksmuseum. 

The back of the Rijksmusuem

 After we were done taking pictures, the others wanted to go running, and since I was not interested in running, I took off on my own to go through the Van Gogh museum. After confirming with the gatekeeper that the museum was open until 10 p.m. on Fridays, I began wandering about in a quest for food. I got really excited following a group of students- because it is a universally acknowledged truth that college students, no matter where in the world you are, will know where to find decent and cheap food; however, that trek proved fruitless. So I kept wandering and came across a street that was all shops for almost every major designer line one can think of and was confronted with two realities. The first being that fashion can be used as an art form, and the second being just how much that art form costs. So I kept wandering and came across a pharmacy, what followed was a somewhat hilarious endeavor on my part to teach myself to read Dutch, because I was trying to figure out which bottle had aspirin. So, I kept wandering, getting fairly hungry at this point, until I circled back to a bakery I had passed early, that was about to close up shop. I hopped in and grabbed a chocolate croissant and a cappuccino. At first, I was worried that I would not be able to get even that because both workers addressed me in Dutch before switching to English, when they saw the terrified expression on my face. After finishing my evening snack, I wandered through one of the city's largest parks to get back to the museum.

It was about twilight at this point and I finally entered the Van Gogh museum. Now it is worth noting that this museum is the main reason that I wanted to go to Amsterdam. I love Van Gogh, not just his paintings but his writings as well. His impassioned frenzy-filled style makes him my favourite artist. Maybe it is the liberal arts major in me, but I find the channeling of utter madness into beautiful, expressive art something to be admired. Spending a few hours in such close examination of this man's work was not only a highlight  of my time in Amsterdam, but a highlight of my time "across the pond" period. If you are remotely interested in art and happen to be in the neighbourhood, go to this museum.

*Side-Note* I was mistaken for a Brit during my wanderings, an insult to real Brits, no doubt, but it was an error that amused me immensely.