June 16:
This is the
first day I’ve attempted to blog and we are already on the second day of the cruise. My
Nikon 1 V1 camera, which failed me on our Seabourn cruise last October, and
which afterwards spent several months in the shop being repaired, has failed me
again. I am beyond furious and will
never buy another Nikon. Be warned.
However,
being of an optimistic nature, I am making the best of it, and between Maile’s
and my Iphone, we hope to produce at least a few decent pictures. In the interim I will try not to dazzle you
too much with my deathless prose.
We arrived
in Amsterdam early morning June 12, pretty exhausted, and as expected, our
hotel room was not ready, so we soldiered on and took a short canal cruise to
get a feel for the city. The endless
canals, bordered on both sides by typical Dutch row houses and punctuated by
arched tunnels and quaint bridges seemed a complicated maze to our glazed and
tired eyes, but so beautiful. We stopped at a sweet café
right around the corner from the hotel on the way back to rejuvenate with
coffee and tea.
Our hotel,
the Hotel Ambassade, recommended by a Dutch friend, proved the perfect choice,
within walking distance of all the sights on our list and situated right on the
Gentlemen’s Canal, Herengracht. At first
I was a tad dismayed because there was a lot of activity right outside our room
which faced onto the street and canal—all sorts of boat traffic as well as
pedestrians and cars whizzing by in both directions; and a cacophony of dissonant sounds. But happily, the din quieted down and we were
able to sleep undisturbed.
Unbelievable
numbers of bicycles! We learned later
that there are about 780,000 people in the city of Amsterdam and more than a
million bikes! And surely they are all on the street at once! Practically everyone is
barreling by on a bike, and let the unwary pedestrian beware because they slow
down for no one. Remarkably, we didn’t
see a single accident although the close calls were myriad. I was even politely admonished by one middle
aged woman on a bike who informed me that I needed to watch where I was
going. Since the sidewalk, the bike
path and the street are often indistinguishable one from the other, this is
easier said than done!
The normal
traffic was enhanced by the fact that the World Cup was underway and the
Netherlands was playing Spain! Revelers
were everywhere, dressed in orange, excitement at a feverish pitch and during
the actual game it seemed that the whole city actually erupted into a palpable roar
when “our” team scored. As you know, the
Netherlands beat Spain 5-1 ensuring that the partying would go on unabated
until the wee hours.
The best
part about Amsterdam is walking around and enjoying the energy of the
city. It is a very manageable town—we
never had to take a single taxi in our three days before boarding our river
cruise yesterday afternoon. of course it helped that our hotel is marvelously located in the City Center. We went to
the Van Gogh Museum, Vondel Park, and the Anne Frank House, all within easy
walks of the hotel. We walked through
Dam Square, the main square of the city, perused an authentic flea market, and
sampled delicious Dutch cheese on the street.
Vondel
Park, which I guess is comparable to Central Park in New York or Hyde Park in
London, provides premier people watching and activity galore. Lots of locals as well as tourists go
there to relax, spoon, walk their dogs, wheel their baby carriages, or simply sit on
park benches and read. We bought hot
dogs from a rolling cart and sat on a stone wall to eat them. One of the three giant I AM STERDAM signs is
there and the brave ones like Holland climb to the top of the various letters
to have their pictures taken.
The Anne
Frank House—thankfully I had purchased advance tickets—was sad and austere, but
beautifully presented and effectively sobering.
The thought of the beautiful young Anne holed up in an Amsterdam
rowhouse for more than two years with her family only to be exposed and to die
anyway of typhus in a German concentration camp just one month before
liberation is beyond tragic. Her words
reverberate through the walls of the building through the displays, vignettes
and artifacts from the actual period. If
you haven’t read Anne’s diary, or if it has been years, I highly recommend
it. I read it for the first time just a
few months ago and was astounded by her literary talent. Had she lived she would have been a prolific
and profound writer. As it is, dead at
fifteen, she would have just shaken her head at her fame and wondered what all
the fuss was about.