My lovely sisters (I always wanted sisters and never got my wish so now that I have them by marriage, I refuse to call them "in-laws"), were very generous in their wedding/Christmas gifts to us and gave us flights to Amsterdam and tickets to the Van Gogh museum (one of Eric and my favorite artists.) We decided to go over the English bank holiday weekend at the end of August, at a time when the weather was hopefully going to be decent.
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| Part of the Red Light District at night |
We arrived on Friday night, quite late from the London City airport (very convenient, little airport right in the heart of London proper - you basically go from entrance to gate in under 10 minutes.) We took the train into the city and then walked under some sketchy bridges to our hotel - The Movenpick (like the ice cream company). It was situated at the North End of the city a bit out of town. But, it was built just two years prior, was in supreme condition and a great value. I didn't feel all that well so (the old lady in me) decided to head to bed. Poor Eric wanted so badly to go out and explore the city and he didn't let my illness stop him. He wandered around the city for about an hour and a half all by himself.
Saturday
I woke up feeling like I had been hanging upside down and shaken by giant until my brain rattled around in my skull, but knowing we only had a short time in the city, I pushed through the pain in my head. We rented bikes beneath our hotel (because Eric is obsessed with riding bikes and Amsterdam is notorious for its cyclers) from a very nice Dutch man who looked and talked just like Goldmember from Austin Powers. Our breakfast at Bagels & Beans was so good, a perfect start to the day before heading to the Van Gogh museum. The most fascinating part about the museum was seeing the progression of Van Gogh's work and each of the stages he went through during his career. A few months experimenting with colors, a year with different brush stroke techniques, a year of drinking Absenth and cutting of body parts, etc. He is a popular artist to the Dutch and the city's visitors as evidenced by the huge crowds that visited his museum to view his works. Upon leaving the museum, Eric and I mounted our bikes and explored the streets of the Canal District and the Jordaan all whilst "In the Summertime" by Mungo Jerry ran on repeat in my head.Indonesian cuisine is supposedly highly rated in Amsterdam, so our first proper meal was lunch at an Indonesian restaurant. I can't remember the name of it, but it doesn't matter because it was just not good. Eric liked his spicy beef, but my dish was quite a weird combination of random veggies (green beans, zucchini, bean sprouts, and pea pods) swimming in a sweet peanut sauce. I got a little ill just thinking about it now. Following lunch, we headed back to the hotel so that I could rest and get ready for our big night out at SupperClub. Eric left me at the hotel and went exploring further on his bike. He went to see the giant windmill and road around a few of the other parts of town.
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| Supper Club...we're early, but it's all lit up |
Early evening came, and we dressed in the funkiest outfits that we had (read: you know we are not funky people at all so this proved difficult). The theme for the evening at SupperClub http://supperclub.com/ was Sunglasses at Night. Let me just mention that we don't usually go to places that have a set theme, so we knew we were in for something special. Seeing as my illness was slowly taking over my entire body, I knew that in order to get through the night (at a themed venue no less), I was going to have to numb the pain. We headed to a bar (as the rain sprinkled down) and began the mission. Three vodka diet cokes later, I was ready to take on SupperClub. The place is down a non-descript alley and if you don't have address in hand and bifocals, you would miss the entrance. I really don't want to give too much away (just in case anyone decides to experience the mayhem - Heather and Russell are currently heading there this week). Therefore, all I will say is that the experience involved: dining on 5 courses, in a bed, sans shoes, with entertainment by 5 waitresses in beaters and tighty whiteys, 3 DJs and 1 burlesque dancer named, Trixy. The pictures should help fill in some of the gaps. With so much sensory stimulation it would be easy for them to serve mediocre food but it turned out to be delicious (especially the halibut served to us in the dog food dishes )and the liquor was my saving grace - mission accomplished. I forgot all about my illness and we headed home around 1:30 (which is late for us when we are travelling!)
Sunday
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| Lots of Cheese. Seriously, that's the name of the place. |
I bet you are thinking that I would be ridiculously hungover seeing as my mission was to essentially drink away the pain, but it seems that the pain of the illness made any impending hangover non-existent! It was (in a way) fantastic! We left the hotel late morning and biked our way to breakfast at The Letting in the Jordaan. A fried breakfast was all we needed to get us through the afternoon. We tooled around on our bikes and eventually made our way to Anne Frank's house. She was an extraordinary girl, and we left her house enlightened and inspired by what she was able to do given the situation. Eric and I both had read her diaries in school at one point, but it really helped to see the enclosure in which they lived and hear more about the others involved in the hiding and the cover-up.
I had heard from my parents that cheese was something readily available in Amsterdam, and since I can never have enough cheese, we set off to find some lunch of our own making. I had spotted a shop along the route to the Anne Frank house called "Lots of Cheese." My kind of place. We picked out an Amsterdamy cheese and a safe alternative chevre and headed to the supermarket next store. The remaining lunch items (salami, strawberries, bread and the crucial dark chocolate dessert) were purchased, and we headed to the edge of the canal for lunch.
Of course once lunch ended and my stomach was full, my illness was back in full force. We cycled back to the hotel so that I could rest. This time, Eric joined me. For dinner that night, we went to a TimeOut recommended cafe in the Red Light District called Cafe Bern. We ordered the fondue and a salad that had a really good garlic dressing. Following dinner we walked around the Red Light District, which was such a fascinating experience. My expectation was to see really good looking girls in the windows, but honestly there were girls of all types for every type of fantasy that one could have. It was like a drug, I wanted more but at the same time my head was telling me, this is so weird and wrong! Once the addiction subsided, we headed to a coffeeshop, because when in Rome... The coffee shop was aptly named 4:20 Cafe.
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| Rows and rows and rows of houses like these line the canals |
Eric headed back on his bike to Bagels and Beans on Monday morning to get some take-out breakfast. I stayed in bed to try and fight the illness a little longer. When Eric returned we had breakfast and checked out of our hotel. We spent the first few hours of the afternoon aboard a canal boat which took us on a historical tour of the canal district. SNOOZBOX! It was quite boring and not something I would recommend doing. The rest of the afternoon we spent walking the streets to do a little shopping. Our last meal was again a brown bag on the side of the canal. This time though we swapped the strawberries for some raspberries.
Check out our pictures here:
http://www.kodakgallery.com/I.jsp?c=hj0zhyv.2ggs08gr&x=0&y=-vonofr&localeid=en_US
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