Given that we had tickets for the Anne Frank Museum at 12:45, I wanted to make sure we could take our time in the Rijksmuseum beforehand. It opened at 9, so we were out looking for breakfast at 8:20.
Turns out, not a lot is open that early. (That had actually been a part of one of the improv scenes the night before.) I looked up a bakery, which had ok stuff, then saw a Starbucks for Alisa's caffeine fix, and only then did we see a bagel shop. So I had two breakfasts. Before 9am.
We got in the museum and were immediately overwhelmed. There are three floors, centers on different time periods, but all we really had to find at first was the Gallery of Honor, which housed the couple artists we'd heard of (or, in Jan Steen's case, probably should have heard of).
Frans Hals gave us an introduction into the Dutch styles of portraiture, then we moved to Vermeer. His scenes had a bit of mystery in their stillness.
Jan Steen captured action and movement, and there's apparently a saying that a "Jan Steen household" is a family with those qualities.
Next was Rembrandt. At this point, Alisa commented that we really knew more Dutch artists than we thought. You think of the golden age of art and you think of Italy, or maybe Paris, but we kept finding names we knew.
Rembrandt van Rijn had a few paintings of people scattered about, but it was really his giant canvas of the "Night Watch" that dominated the gallery. The history of it (hidden from the Nazis, then slashed by a madman) was as fun to read about as its subject matter.
Downstairs, we found a self portrait of Van Gogh. Wandering through the first floor, then the second, the amount of art and artifacts in the museum was overwhelming. And then when we tried to find the rooms on the other side of the museum? We had to go to the bottom floor to cut over. (The rooms were actually recreations of rooms from houses in the Netherlands.)
We paused in front of some nudes to check the time and download the tickets. Thanks free museum wifi! Those nudes weren't going to be the raunchiest thing we saw today though...
First though, we had our tickets to Anne Frank. We bought a 24-hour pass (since we'll need to ride the tram to the airport tomorrow) and tried to hop on a city bus. Turns out, they are only for trams. Take two.
We got oriented and took a tram to our transfer point. A pair of guys asked about getting to the Rijksmuseum, and we told them they were on the right track (literally) since we had just come from there. One was from France and commented that the price of admission to the gallery was steep (which is true, at 17.50€) but I said it was of the caliber of the Louvre. He clearly disagreed, but we parted wishing them a good time regardless. His comment about museums in France being "free or just maybe €5" stuck with us - I don't remember anything being that affordable. Maybe if you're a resident! Anyway, come check out the Smithsonians sometime.
We ended up in front of Westerkirk, where we wanted to be, and a bit of time for a bite before seeing the secret annex. I got another herring sandwich (they are good and kind of addictive) while Alisa got more frites. We hung out outside the museum until our group was called, lined up, and walked in. Much better than the multi-hour experience if you don't reserved something ahead of time.
First was a walk through the warehouse which was the front of building, and was Otto Frank's business before he wasn't allowed to have it. Margot, Anne's older sister, got a work notice in '42, and the whole family went into hiding with another family of three and then a single dentist for 25 months.
Over two years. It is amazing and maddening and spectacular. I haven't read the book in a very long time, so I definitely could have gotten more had I taken time to do that, but some details were called out. Anne had heard on a broadcast that journals and documents would be collected after the war, so she dreamt her diary would be published. She had even revised most of it by the time the Nazis captured them, split up, and killed everyone but Otto.
The rooms were bigger than I had imagined, but what hit me the most was the staircase in Peter's room that led to the attic. Seeing their only access to the outside world, that peek to a tree and to bells from the church ringing each day, brought the whole experience into sobering relief.
Her diary was on display. Actually, diaries. All three of the books she had written in day after day.
The end of the museum had a gallery of family pictures and then a movie of people's reactions to Anne Frank and her diary. "The Fault in Our Stars" summed up something I'd been thinking about: underneath Anne's name in the book of the hundred of thousands of Dutch Jews that were killed during the Holocaust were five Aron Franks - five people with no museum, no memory like hers. It is so helpful to have a personification of the truly horrendous consequences of a racist dictator, but sobering to realize that all the millions killed had the same stories.
The walk-through wasn't long, and we were done by about 2. Alisa wanted to bring back some tulip bulbs, but we had yet to find any that were suitable for the US. The flower market seemed like a fine place to wander while collecting thoughts and returning to the present day.
We had gone past stall after stall, and neither of us were really hopeful but also neither of us had anything else to offer, so we kept on down the row. Remarkably, a dozen or so shops in, we saw a sign: "Suitable for US and Canadian export." Hurray! The certificates on them were all up to date, and we were good to go!
I had read in Rick Steves about the "rice tables" at Indonesian restaurants. Since Indonesia was a Dutch colony, it was essentially a Dutch dish. We had passed a restaurant on the market street, so we backtracked for our opportunity to snack.
We asked for a veggie version, and also asked to share a single portion. Both of these weren't technically on the menu (it actually said minimum of two people), but we must be very convincing (or just lucky).
We bought a bottle of water to share and started in on the set of oval dishes aligned on a metal tray heated by a tea light. A mango salad, a tofu skewer, tofu in spicy clear sauce, tofu in slightly spicy yellow sauce, and six other dishes - our mouths were on fire but our bellies were perfectly content after trying all of it. Check and check please!
Alisa, in a switch of roles, had been looking for chocolate for nearly two days. We made sure to swing by a Leonidas, a Belgian chocolate shop, to buy a box to share before heading across the Ij (the body of water just to the north of Amsterdam) to the Eye Film Museum.
The free ferry across took longer to unload and reload than to get across the channel. It was probably 8 minutes per roundtrip. At least, that's what the signboards above the two docking stations for them guessed at.
When we got to the north side, the new buildings and structures were very obvious. The A-Dam Tower, a clearly tourist-only tower, was maybe twenty floors tall? Really tall for this "height challenged" city. I prefer our quick bite at Blue Sky Lounge over that gangly thing.
The Eye Film Institute was a striking building, all angles rising out of the water. We walked in, poked at some of the exhibits on the walls, then found an open door that said "do not enter" on it. But maybe it was only "do not enter" when it was closed?
We were definitely entering through the exit of an exhibit on film history. We watched some of the Wizard of Oz before experiencing a bunch of clips on the "360" room, where different aspects of film where highlighted. I looked at color and magic; Alisa saw the celebrities and sound ones.
Next were the techniques of how video came about, concluding with the iPhone in 2008 which was the first phone to include a digital video camera. I was pretty impressed with this cross gear thing that rotated and allowed a single image to pause on screen for a projector. Ask me sometime and I'll try to describe it better (or look it up for you).
We were pretty sure the exhibit was free, but we went back out the exit door anyway.
Instead of seeing a highly cultural film, we opted for a final true Amsterdam experience - checking out the Sexmuseum.
They only took cash for their €5 entrance fee, which might have been a tip off that this wasn't really as much a museum as just a collection of stuff. Immediately, the penises started, accompanied by the breasts and continuing on afterward. It was overwhelming.
Some text descriptions told us why we should care or what was interesting about the artifacts, but what was most amusing to me was a little placard where some pottery must have been sitting: "Piece loaned out for the exhibit 'Sexy Ceramics.'"
Marilyn Monroe had a little exhibit all to herself. And that was all I'll write about in this blog.
We headed back out into the sunshine, deciding where to spend our last evening in Amsterdam. The Jordaan was the clear choice, and a well-rated cafe popped up called "Cafe Chris," so we went to check it out.
It said it was started in the 1500s on the outside, and the dark wood interior kept that vibe going. It was crowded with pre-dinner drinkers, inside and out. It had a larger beer selection than I first assumed, with maybe a dozen on their menu. I found the wheat beer while Alisa found a dark one, and I hung out by the bar. The bartender was wonderfully respectful and made sure to take my order (since I had been up already to get a menu) before the guy in front of me. I got bumped and jostled and had an elbow to the head getting the beers to Alisa, but didn't spill!
We moved to a round table once the place cleared out a bit, and the bartender came around collecting glasses and told us our table "was more expensive" because it takes more work to make a round table. I didn't think of my comeback (that trees are naturally round) until he left.
It was getting late, and kitchens often closed by ten. When the sun sets at 9, it can be hard to get out of the routine of eating after dark.
We consulted Rick Steves for recommendations, and, in doing so, realized that he had recommended a drink in a "brown cafe." These were cafes that were coated in smoke and nicotine before indoor smoking was banned, and now they have "retro" atmospheres. Given that Cafe Chris said it was founded in the 1600s (or maybe it was the 1400s - I forget now), it clearly had that old wood ambiance. Check that off the list!
Anyway, a restaurant caught my eye that had daily fresh specials (including vegetarian), and it was just a few blocks away, deeper into the Jordaan. It was now the quiet yet hip district he had talked about, and we enjoyed our walk through the canals to find the place.
We were seated right away, and the servers took turns getting our orders, our drinks, and our food. Artichoke as a undersized starter, but my pomodoro (tomato) soup and ravioli were yummy. The desserts were especially tempted, so Alisa got the mousses and I enjoyed the lemon cheesecake, on sound advice from one of the servers.
If it had been another night, we would have wandered around the Jordaan more. As it was, we have some souvenirs that we weren't sure how we were going to fit, so it was time to walk then tram back to our apartment for our final night. We had some leftover Heinekens from King's Day, so cheers to our suitcases.
It was an easy morning, putting the last of our toiletries away and walking the block to the metro. We both got the overnight oats at Yogurt Barn (tell me where I can get the recipe!) and made it to the airport via train. We almost got on the wrong one, but Alisa figured out track 12a and 12b were different.
Our certified tulip bulbs and cheese made it back to America and through customs. A little bit of Dutch now with us on the east coast. Thank goodness the cold weather stayed across the Atlantic where it belongs!
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