Speak To Me, Amsterdam

Did you ever go somewhere, and the place just speaks to you? I had that experience in Queenstown, NZ. As soon as I saw it, I knew it was a place I could live forever. If it just wasn’t so far away from everyone I love. I had that same experience with Amsterdam. Coming into the city I was immediately charmed by the architecture, the canals, the friendliness of the people and even the bicycles, although we were warned to watch for them because they would not watch for us. Our cab driver was gregarious and pointed out museums, shops and important sites. We told him we were visiting Anne Frank house later that day, and he showed us that it only a few blocks from our hotel. He asked when we were leaving and offered to pick us up that morning and get us to the airport. Since we had to leave at 6am, we appreciated getting that all arranged. Our driver also clued us in on the best food in the city—Indonesian.

The Pulitzer is a 5-Star hotel convenient to all the places we wanted to see. It is actually composed of 25 restored and contiguous 17th and 18th century Dutch houses. The hotel was conceived by Peter Pulitzer in 1960, the grandson of Joseph of Pulitzer Prize fame. No room is the same, either in furnishings or layout, and there is a library containing, what else? Only Pulitzer Prize winning books. It boasts numerous inner gardens, beautiful furnishings and artwork everywhere among the city’s most iconic canals. We were greeted by the front desk, and although our room was not yet ready, we were assured that would happen very soon. It is a very easy hotel to get lost in as the various buildings are connected by hallways and staircases, and everywhere you look are paintings, antiques, and beautiful touches of flowers, china and artistic decorations. Our room was ready almost as soon as we wandered around and we were on a high floor over the main canal. The room was beautifully appointed and had lots of little special touches—including a bike repair kit in tribute to Amsterdam’s reputation as one of the most cycle-friendly cities in the world. The bed and bedding were luxurious, and we resisted the temptation to climb in at once. But we had tickets to the Anne Frank house and wanted to be sure we were there on time.

The Anne Frank house was close and although it was pretty nippy, the day was sunny. One thing we learned pretty quickly is that pancakes are a real thing in Amsterdam. Lots of pancake restaurants. We wandered in and out of a few shops and took in the architecture. Such a beautiful city! You have to get tickets to the Anne Frank house well in advance and I had reserved ours as soon as the window opened, months before our trip. I was glad I did. The tickets were sold out for the day. Our tickets were around 1 pm, and the square near the museum was filled with people waiting for their appointed time, and people disappointed to discover you can’t just walk up and get a ticket.

We knew this part of our adventure would be emotional. You enter and hang up your coats in a cloak area and receive a listening device that connects wirelessly to each room for its information. These devices come in dozens of languages. The tour is then self-guided, and you can spend as much time in each room as you like. Most people know the story. Anne Frank was a German-born Jewish girl who kept a diary and documented her life while she and her family hid for two years from Nazi persecution. She is considered the most famous of Hitler’s victims. The Frank family was wealthy, and while the family hid in the small concealed rooms behind a bookcase in the building where her father worked, many of the Jews hiding during this period were much worse off, concealing themselves under floorboards. The recorded information describes the story of the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands, and the increasing loss of freedoms to the Jews, finally culminating in sending them to the death camps. Anne and her sister were sent to Auschwitz and then transferred to Bergen-Belsen where she likely died of typhus. Her father was the family’s only survivor, and upon learning that his secretary, Miep Gies, had recovered Anne’s diary, he committed his life to fulfilling Anne’s wish to become a great writer. Her diary has been translated into 70 languages, and is beautifully written, not only as a history of the Nazi occupation through her eyes, but of the musings of a young woman growing up during a terrible horror.

The tour takes hours, and Bob recorded, through pictures and videos, most of the information in each of the rooms. I think it was his way of dealing with the overwhelming inhumanity. I, never having enough tissues, cried my way through it. There is a hush that settles in as you make your way through the spaces, and everyone’s face reveals the profound emotion of the tour. I went into one room and saw a young man, maybe college age, just sitting on a stairway in a corner with his face buried in his hands. Finally, you come out into a library, with copies of the diary in multiple languages, and other works relating to the history, and how to identify and resist the emergence of such authoritarian horrors for the future. I had originally thought to pick up a t-shirt here, but after finishing I realized such things would be crass, and no t-shirts or the usual post-museum gifts are offered.

It takes a while to reenter the world—at least it did for me. Bob chatted with the folks at the cloak room and got a recommendation for dinner from one of the staff. We walked some more and returned to the hotel to rest.

Our dinner was at the Kantjil de Tijger, a 4-star Indonesian restaurant several blocks away. My trusty GPS showed us the way. You really do have to be ever vigilant when walking through Amsterdam. They are not kidding about the bicycles. Not only do they have the right of way with pedestrians, but with cars as well, and there are very few cars on the narrow cobblestone streets. Occasionally the bike riders will use the sidewalk, and they have right of way there too. The canal streets have thousands of bikes chained to trees, poles, bridges, and pretty much anything nailed down. Some are beautifully decorated with flowers or artwork, but most are functional. The cars we saw were often very small, some not much larger than enclosed bikes. I would probably want one of those to prevent being killed. We were clearly walking to a more populated area of the city as the streets became wider and the crowds bigger. Streets were hung with lights in decoration for the coming holidays. We found our restaurant and were seated at a small table and ordered cocktails and food. It was, as promised, outstanding. After we ate, we slowly made our way back, stopping at a store called the Magic Mushroom. Amsterdam, as I’m sure you know, is one of the most liberal cities in the world, although I see that the Netherlands have just elected a much more conservative leader. Sex workers and many drugs considered illicit in the US are legal here. More about that later. The Magic Mushroom offered marijuana and mushroom related offerings and gifts, and I found a few things to send home. While I waited for my turn at the register, I listened to the store worker explain the benefits of the various weed and mushroom purchases to numerous young people wanting to purchase the wares. I will say that he did a great job of educating on dosage, intended results, and how to offset any unpleasant experiences. Much more educational than my college-age experience of surreptitiously exchanging money for dope.

We made our way back to the Pulitzer and melted into our comfy bed, looking forward to the next day.

I have mentioned previously that when we have a whole day in a new city, I like to use Tours By Locals to find someone to show us around. We have never been disappointed using this company, and this time was no exception. Our guide today was Ian, who had texted me to meet him at the Amsterdam stock exchange. The Exchange has a brass bull in front, a smaller version of the one on Wall Street. We found it easily and recognized Ian from his picture on the website. He led us expertly through the city, giving us the history and pointing out interesting places.

Like the Condomerie, where one can be measured in one of the private rooms for a condom that will fit perfectly. Ian shared with us that this store started out as a solution to people frightened by the AIDS epidemic. Pretty creative idea. As we walked and he talked it became clear that Amsterdam has built a comprehensive service system around the drug and sex industries here. Since addiction is seen as a disease, victims are not relegated to secret places surrounded by shame, but are offered support and mental health services to support them. Same for sex workers. The red-light district, which really does have windows behind which scantily dressed ladies pose and smile, has a day care center, numerous health care services, and a pretty strict rule about not photographing and making snide comments about the workers.

Ian noted that the mayor of Amsterdam has been trying to move the sex workers to an area outside of town, and Ian had strong feelings that this was not the right move. He expressed concern that the social services aspect would not follow and as he and his wife have a flourishing chocolate shop in the district, and have good relationship with many of the workers, he had concerns that the planned move would be a step backward. While he shared, and we could see, that tourists seem to amass in this area, he said the area was very safe, even at night, and that the people who live there look out for each other. He shared a story with us that when a delivery of packaging for his chocolate shop was done on a rainy day when he and his wife were out, and knowing that the rain would ruin the packing, several of the sex workers rain out and took the delivery inside their rooms, even though the packaging took up much of their space, cutting into their business of displaying their services. We stopped at a street side vendor making small, delicious pancakes dripping with butter and sugar for a treat.

Ian noted to us that while the Anne Frank story is the most well-known, Amsterdam was rife with poor Jews trying to hide from the Nazis. He shared many stories of the brave people who endangered themselves trying to help. Bet van Beeren was a legendary bar owner. A lesbian, she accepted a diverse clientele, and was quite a character. She rode around town on a motorbike, dressed in leather, and lost two fingers in a bar fight. She ran her bar carefully, and had a lighted plaster owl, which, when lit, warned her customers that homophobic raids were coming. Her bar was an arms depot for the resistance during the Nazi occupation. We had learned in Germany that Amsterdam fell to the Nazi’s in 6 days, and Ian shared why that happened. It seems that many well-off and probably frightened citizens in Amsterdam quickly capitulated to the Nazi occupation, even giving lists and street information about where to find Jews. Bet, even aware of this, chose to help her fellow citizens. A bridge spanning one of the canals was later dedicated to this brave woman.

We ended our day with Ian in his chocolate shop where he and his wife are committed members of the community. They provide art projects and charitable services to maintain the caring neighborhood for all the interesting people who call the area home. We got to sample several of the chocolates, and Ian offered an extremely hot chocolate bar to Bob (I refused) that did turn him a few extra shades of red. We bought some and left. If you get to Amsterdam, look him up—he’s a great guide.

We stopped in a local coffee shop, had some cappuccino and hot chocolate, and wandered around the red-light district a while longer. Later that evening, we boarded the Pulitzer’s ‘Tourist’ boat built in 1909 for a tour of the city through the canals. The Tourist is filled with polished teak, brass, beveled glass, and thick carpeting, and was a great way to see the city lit up at night. We passed the ‘smoke boat,’ a tourist boat devoted to, you guessed it, people who wanted to enjoy their weed while they toured. There was a cloud over her. You would expect the city to smell more like weed than it does. One surprise was when the captain asked the boat guests whether we had noticed the grand piano suspended above the hotel entrance. None of us had, but sure enough there it was!

We ordered room service for our final night, and got packed to meet our driver at 6 am to trek to the airport. The flight was eight and a half hours, and we did purchase an upgrade to Premium Select, giving us extra leg room, only two seats in our row, and extra recline with footrests. The seats were quite comfortable, and we napped and watched movies on the way home.

It was a wonderful trip. I think Budapest and Amsterdam were our favorites, but Germany was lots of fun, with great beer and beautiful buildings. The Viking River Cruise was different than an ocean cruise. Less entertainment, but at least one free excursion each day which we found to be excellent. The food was fine, although the soups were fantastic, and I wish I had been more forceful about getting recipes. Our stateroom was comfortable and well-apportioned, quiet and in just the right place on the ship. We had been successful in navigating new countries, circumventing language barriers, and getting to see parts of the world we had only read about. It was good to be home, no place like it, but we continue to be grateful to have the opportunity and the health to travel. It’s a big beautiful world.