This city was the most full of discovery for me; museums, canals, parks, sunsets, pancakes... I loved every minute.
Amsterdam is known for different things to different people. For me, Amsterdam means wandering confusing and narrow streets, navigating by the canals, and watching the entire world pass you on bicycles.
It means getting off the bus to discover an intricate cable car system in a city that's entirely walkable.
It means knocking on the door of the much-anticipated pancake house, only to have the gentleman lean his head out the window to inform you it is closed.
It means bicycle-packed sidewalks, boat-lined canals, and pretty little lightposts and bridges every few meters. ItIt means wandering the streets, admiring the different food choices while secretly wondering when one will fall into your price range. It means walking around, wondering if we should check where exactly the red light district falls on the map, as you start to see glimpses of red lights over the doors. Then you start to see the reasons for the red lights over the doors. It means turning around and deciding you don't really need to eat at that café you read about, after all. It means finally settling on that cute little Italian place, because you want pizza, and you want it now. It means reliving pizza nights with my best friend.
It means getting a McDonald's water bottle just to use the free wifi; it means hopping off the tracks before boarding the tram. It means riding down to the Flying Pig, the well-reviewed 8.5 euro hostel you dug up. It means snagging a dutch beer in the basement and making scratch marks in Krista's secret code of priority on two different maps to plan your next days.
It means creeping up ALL of the stairs to the top of the building; it means debating, out of breath, whether to open the door to see what lies in the dark hallway beyond. It means relief as the automatic lights switch on, revealing a colorful interior with tricky, angled ceilings. It means not sitting up too fast while waiting for the bathroom (watch your head!). It means crawling into a bed more comfortable than yours in France.
It means spending half the night coughing (no cold or perpetual illness will stop me from travelling!); it means getting up early to avoid waking the whole hostel with that coughing.
It means creeping down the two million stairs to rent a towel, and finding the happy receptionists giving one another dreadlocks.
It means going down for a full breakfast (what a surprise!); it means unlimited nutella packets, jam, 7 types of bread, A BOWL OF CERIAL, juice, water, apples, oranges (yes, I will take all the food, thank you-- and a snack for later).
It means dodging that Canadian guy, who says he's a broadway star and leaving first thing that morning for Korea (why was he spotted at the Van Gogh museum that day and not at the airport?).
It means venturing out to the pharmacy (I was sick from February until April), and encountering another incredibly sweet dutch person. It means finding cheese and bread to eat in the park later in the afternoon.
It means stumbling upon the only round protestant church in the Netherlands. What was that sign in the window? Something about we used to be a church, but now we're an office -- something along the lines of "buzz off, stop trying to get in."
It means finding a back up plan.
It means discovering what lies behind these windows:
It means seeing these paintings in real life: (Sorry, no photos in the actual museum)
It means realizing that, yes, you would like to have a bicycle with the Sunflowers on it. Or can I get it in Irises? Or maybe Almond Blossom?
It means learning more about one of my already favorite painters. It means seeing the works they don't keep in Chicago. It means spending 3 hours on 3 floors seeing every color imaginable and learning about the life of a good man. Did you know he was a man of faith? Did you know he worked as a missionary? Did you know he lived in Paris, but he couldn't stand the city life? Did you know that his brother supported him, pushed him, sponsored him to be an artist? Did you know that in his ten years as an artist before his death, he produced 810 oil paintings and 1300 watercolors, sketches, and prints, making for over 2100 artworks in TEN YEARS? Did you know he was hardly recognized before death? Did you know his name is pronounced more like "Fan Kogckh"? (Why, no, I have not been to the Fankogckh museum, but we were able to see Van Gogh's yesterday.)
The Van Gogh museum means seeing the drawings, not just the paintings. It means seeing his early works next to the ones that inspired him. It means looking through a series, trying to see what he had in mind. It means discovering that Van Gogh also liked Japanese art; his versions are very unique.
The Van Gogh means for me thinking of who planted the seeds of the love for the artist. I think of Mrs. Smith, my fifth grade teacher who made "Van Gogh Cafe" the theme of our classroom and took us to the Van Gogh - Gauguin exhibit when it was at the Art Institute. I think of my dad and his love of Starry Night.
Amsterdam means falling in love with this museum.
Amsterdam means venturing on out to a park for lunch. Not just any park; this park.
It means picnicking and laughing and watching the birds and the frisbee players.
It means wondering if this is the Rijksmuseum
Or this is.
It means following the endless signs around the building to find the door
and getting into all the museums in Amsterdam with this card
to see this painting in real life (much bigger than expected), among others. Rembrandt... he had some talent, to say the least.
Amsterdam also means funny houses, funny public art, funny birds and funny tulips. It means there is a difference between coffeeshops and cafés, and you should know it. It means huge, beautiful, lively flower markets.
It means couch surfing with Italians. It means bad veggie burgers (we went where the locals wanted -- turns out, the locals wanted fast food). It means going out to a bar to hear a live band, playing old rock songs. It means singing and dancing, even though your head might explode (remember, sick until April). It means finding out that some people host couch surfers every night of the week -- I can't imagine.
These Italian hosts worked for a start up in computer science. Turns out, their boss was just fired -- the one who hired them. When we met them, they were counting down the days before they saw their pinkslips. In the mean time, one was getting as much experience as he could before leaving; he left early in the morning for a conference, sort of like an adult hackathon. When I contacted him a few weeks later, he confirmed that he was on a "six week paid vacation," exploring England before starting the search for a new job.
It means waking up at 10 and understanding why we meant to go to the Anne Frank House at 9. It means standing in line for an hour behind those American girls who talk too loud.
It means putting our backpacks around our fronts (no coatroom here). It means diving into her secrets, her deep feelings on her own turf. I had studied the book and acted in the play, and yet I was seeing these words come alive on the walls and in the photographs, as if she were quietly whispering to you as you explore the secret annex.
It finally sunk in why it was so terrible that the Germans forbid the Jews from having bicycles; that's all they use here! I saw the stairs to the attic, where she had her secret conversations with Peter. I saw the bookcase that hid the entrance. I saw the collage of her beloved movie stars that she kept on the wall. I saw the window that she would peak through and quickly hide from.
Amsterdam means history that breaths.
We left the museum in level states. We did not have the buzz that we had from Van Gogh, but we did have an alertness and a liveliness that comes with understanding. We could look out on the streets and wonder what she saw.
Amsterdam also means pancakes. It means pancakes at the Pannenkoekenhuis Upstairs; a teeny-tiny pancake house at the top of a narrow dutch staircase.
while these hang over our heads.
It means walking back down these stairs
So that we can pass more canals like this
and more houses like this.
It means an old man stopping you on the street to explain his city to you. He explains, for example, why the houses tilt forward a little and not in line with eachother. He told us it is for the aesthetics, not at all for any other purpose.
It means hurrying all the way down south to find the Resistance museum. It means hurrying to see all that you can in 45 minutes before it closes, snapping a million pictures, so that you can learn about how the Dutch citizens resisted Nazi rule, like workers' strikes and students' organizations. It means hurrying to see stuff like this:
It means getting asked to leave the museum, because you insist on ignoring the announcements and staying right until closing time.
It means finding street after street to explore, and following lots of these signs.
It means walking the canals at night and having your breath taken away.
It means Krista insisting we go find that one bridge. It means finding that bridge was worth it. It means finding out that my phone takes pretty good pictures after my camera died.
It means being able to take pictures like this.
Amsterdam at night means seeing Amsterdam at night, on the canals.
Amsterdam at night means finding this café for a beer before saying goodnight to the city.
It means finding treasure like this on the train out to your next couch surfing host.
Amsterdam means staying with three Mexican girls and a Portuguese girl at a Spanish guy's apartment (he laid out 3 big mattresses across his living room). It turns out, the Spanish guy is from Miami. He says he hated living in the States. At sixteen, he moved back to Spain (he has family from there). He now sells art and has a second job.
Amsterdam means seeing his mother's art all over his apartment. Cool.
Amsterdam means canals.
Amsterdam means museums.
Amsterdam means unforgettable.
It meant my first Ryanair flight, it meant flying in and out of Madrid to travel with my girl, it meant a wild and exciting trip.
Goodbye meant leaving a place I will always love. The goodbye was a whispered, "I hope I see you again."
That was quite a trip!
ReplyDeleteBetter when you travel with your best friend, I do think.