In spite of it being illegal, there are graffiti galleries all over Berlin. It is considered a mecca for street artists. It started with the Berlin wall, the biggest and most visual canvas possible. Artists began to congregate there. If you would like to learn more, check out this article.
The courtyard and tunnel at Monsterkabinett have some amazing street art.
“In 1811, the wine merchants Christoph Lutter and August F. Wegner opened a wine shop on Gendarmenmarkt, which in no time at all enjoyed an excellent reputation. They became purveyors to the court of the Prussian crown prince, Frederick William IV of Prussia.”
Just before golden hour, I arrived at the Gendarmenmarkt, a huge square in Berlin that is home to three enormous and gorgeous buildings, the German and the French Cathedral, and Schinkel’s Konzerthaus.
There is even a painting in the restaurant depicting a waiter admiring the view.
The dining room is relaxed and upscale. There was a waitress there with a bob cut and heavy, black round rimmed glasses. She looked SO German I asked if I could take her picture, but she declined.
There was a special white asparagus menu. An entire menu. When white asparagus, or spargel, is in season, the whole city goes nuts. It’s like being in D.C. for cherry blossom season, but much tastier. Spargel is the word for asparagus in German, but it is mostly used to describe the tender, delicate stalks that are grown underground to avoid photosynthesis. It is estimated that 82,000 tons of Spargel are actually produced in Germany each year — which only meets a little more than half of consumption needs. On this evening I enjoyed a rich cream of asparagus soup. It was unbelievable.
For my main dish, I ordered asparagus with a small wiener schnitzel. Again, tender, succulent spargel with a tender schnitzel that was not greasy at all.
For dessert I tried the ugly but exciting Karamellisier Kaiserschmarrn. It was delicious.
You really can’t help but laugh. If you have the mind of a 5 year-old.
More than any other place I have traveled so far, I had a difficult time in Germany. There were a lot of complex procedures and rules of conduct that I was unaware of, and when you break them, Germans get very angry. I really felt like I needed to have a friend living there to show me the ropes. I was also kind of obsessed with WWII, and obsessed with avoiding the subject of WWII. Nonetheless, there were a lot of fantastic things to see and do and eat.
When I first arrived in Berlin, I took a cab to the hotel. There are no Ubers in Berlin because they violate transport laws. As we neared The Brandenburg Gate, a march/ride to encourage bicycle riding was taking place. The taxi driver rolled down his window to shake his fist and scream at them. I’m sure the last thing he needed was for people to give up on cars. The hotel, Titanic Comfort Mitte, was no frills but the people were friendly and willing to assist me with my almost non-existent German.
Once I settled in, I walked down the street to have lunch at the non-touristy and unappetizing-sounding Spitteleck. I ordered a nice, cold hefeweizen and settled in. The menu was kindly translated–into French. But sometimes, English and German coming from the same language family really helps. I ordered Schweinefleisch. It was delicious.
I hopped on the U-Bahn, which was only a block away. Well, I didn’t exactly “hop.” First you have to buy the ticket from a machine that is in German. Finally, I realized the British flag on the screen would translate the screen to English. For almost my entire trip, every time I went to the station, I helpfully pointed out the flag to befuddled Americans. Then you have to get your ticket validated by sticking it in some kind of a slot that I could not find. I did manage to accidentally summon an elevator before someone showed me where to stick it. See, I told you I needed a German friend. Hans? Greta? Where are you?
I took the train to check out the zoo. It sounds stupid now, but in the Netherlands they had a Galapagos turtle, and I didn’t find out in time to go see it. I wanted to see if the German zoo had any animals we don’t have in American zoos. So here is what a German panda looks like
This is what a German koi and bonus German child look like
They did have this crazy snake-necked turtle, which for some reason reminded me of the punchline of a joke my brother often repeated, “Dig that crazy necktie!”
Across from the zoo is the Kaiser Wilhelm Memorial Church. Kaiser Wilhelm II built it to honor his grandfather, Kaiser Wilhelm II. It was bombed in WWII, losing the top of its turret. When helping rebuild Berlin, the allies didn’t want to restore a symbol of nationalism, and the missing spire has remained as a reminder of the horrors of war.
The steps of the church were covered with flowers, candles, and photographs, so I knew it was the site of something terrible. Another person standing next to me staring at the photos saw my inquisitive expression and said something like “Christmas. Terrible…” then walked away crying. I realized then this was the site of the 2016 terrorist attack on Berlin’s famous Christmas market. Two years before my visit,
Twelve people were killed when 24-year-old Tunisian Anis Amri drove a truck into the market on December 19, 2016, the deadliest attack in Germany.
There was a heartbreaking and beautiful tribute…a gold-filled crack tracing the truck’s route to the steps. It felt disrespectful to photograph any of this.
My favorite things about traveling are art and food. On this particular day I stuffed myself with both.
The Mariners Museum was right behind the hotel, so I stopped in. It turned out it wasn’t the right museum. It was the Museum for their Navy. But there were several old retired seamen playing cards and I would have felt like a jerk walking out. There was a lot of dull ephemera, like the plates they used on Naval ships. Not nearly enough weapons. Inexplicably, they had a makeshift alley skate park diorama in one corner.
Willem Joseph Baron van Ghent, the subject of a painting and sculpture, bore an uncanny resemblance to our friend, Heath, and also to Ludacris.
I made my way to the Museum Boijmans van Beuningen to see “Vorm – Fellows – Attitude,” an exhibit of four enormous scultures of excrement. It took four years for the Vienna-based art collective Gelatin to finish the sculptures after being commissioned by the museum.
Next to the poop exhibit was a collection of anatomically correct “naked” suits. The gallery was empty and I wasn’t sure if we were allowed to wear them, but apparently that is what they were there for. According to one of the artists, the naked suits are “a gift to visitors” that enhance the exhibition and their own experience of it. I didn’t know we were allowed to–much less encouraged to–wear the suits. I apologize that my pictures from this day are missing except for a few I took on my phone, so you will just have to imagine the suits. here is a Yayoi Kusuma infinity room to make it up to you.
I then wandered through a kind of arty neighborhood to Warung Mini, a highly recommended Surinamese hole-in-the-wall.
As had become my habit, I ordered a variation of Nasi Goreng, which is Indonesian fried rice piled high with a variety of meats, stews, noodles, a fried egg, or krupuk cracker…whatever is handy. The food, the ambiance and the general groove of Warung Mini was awesome. Everything I look for.
I finally made it to the Maritime Museum, which was my goal all along. There were dozens of old boats docked outside, and I got a little emotional thinking how much my dad would love to be there. Then in an unusual moment of faith, I thought, “He is here – with me.”
In the evening I went to an Indonesian place called Sari Koering for dinner. It was literally a mom and pop place. The pop’s accent was exactly that of our old family friend Corrie. His Indonesian wife cooking in the kitchen even reminded me of his wife, Mis, so I felt very at home. Their Nasi Goreng was more homemade, and made with love.
I have 2 questions whenever I arrive at a new place.
Question 1. Can you jaywalk?
Yes. But cars and bikes will run you over–even if you are in a crosswalk! Between the street and the bike lane, it is a bit like playing Frogger. I finally figured it out over time. there two kinds of crosswalks. the ones with broken lines. will not protect you. They appear to be for bicycles. Cars will stop for you in crosswalks with solid lines.
People always complain about getting run over by bikes. The bike lanes are clay-colored, so just stay off of anything clay-colored. I forgot this rule ones and cried, “Shit!” as I jumped out of the way of a passing group of bicyclists who had a good laugh at my panic.
Do notwalk on this clay path:
Question 2. Do you greet strangers on the street?
No. You do not nod or smile or even look them in the eye unless you are taking part in some transaction, then eye contact is pretty much the same as in American culture. I had a hard time not looking people right in the eye and smiling, which I gather is being overly familiar. People do respond nicely to questions like, “Is this the right bus stop?” Or “Which way to the museum?” But if you are just passing on the street, don’t look at them. Stop it! They have nothing to do with you.
We take our sunshine for granted. My first day in the Netherlands was a sunny one, and I took a long nap. The next two days were overcast and rainy. So even though I didn’t want to go on a boat ride, as soon as the sun came out I took a boat ride.
I noticed most people in the cities and who work in hotels and shops speak English. Those who don’t are game to speak a patois with you and use a lot of pointing and gestures. Some people act offended if you ask if they can speak English. They respond with “Of course!” in a tone that sounds like, “Do you think I’m stupid?”
People say, “Good morning,” and “Hello,” but they don’t ask, “How are you?” If they do ask, they genuinely mean it and expect a real answer.
They are also very conscious of class issues. If you order an Uber, you sit in the front seat with the driver. To sit in the back like you are something special is very classist.
One difference between Southern California and Europe in general is that people do not walk around staring at their phones there. High School kids do it on the U Bahn in Germany, but that’s about it.
Another thing–we are really serious about hydrating in L.A. No one else I saw on my entire trip walked around with a drink. Even serious bike riders in spandex bodysuits didn’t have plastic bottles of water.
The cokes were small, so I would order them two at a time, which freaked people out. They would bring me a separate glass for each coke I ordered, which I didn’t really need. I tried to ask the front desk to stock my mini fridge with Coke Zero, a service the card says they offer. They just kept telling me to order room service. So I ordered 3 diet cokes and 3 sparkling waters, planning to keep them in the fridge. Communication breakdown.
Other things to love about Dutch people:
They always have Drost chocolate sprinkles on the breakfast buffet.
They charmingly call the train drop off point “the Kiss and Ride.”
They are extremely apologetic.
They have done away with so many of those pesky vowels.
There was a much more extensive Foodhall in Rotterdam than in Amsterdam.
Besides the prepared food, there were counters of spices and cheeses and sit-down restaurants. It was right next to the train station and just across the street from my ideally located hotel. I had a nice breakfast of an egg, bacon and cheese broodjie on fantastic French bread from a little French bakery.
Marketplaces around the world are so similar in many ways you can almost forget where you are. Almost.
Another great thing about Europe is its proximity to all of the other countries, so you can get some amazingly fresh delicacies at reasonable prices. I was really into the Iberico ham.
Citizen M did not have a restaurant, but it faced a large square with at least 5 restaurants, and if you wanted to walk around the small harbor, there was a whole restaurant row with some really jumping bars. It was cold and cloudy and I was exhausted so I stumbled over to the back patio of the modern French/Dutch Mooii, which thankfully was open until 10 PM. The waiters seemed to sense my fragility and were very kind and overly accommodating, or maybe that place just has incredible service all of the time.
I ordered the “Ossenhaas van Clare Valley, Gold Rund, Polenta en Truffeljus” or Tenderloin of Clare Valley Gold Beef, and Polenta in Truffle Gravy. One reason that I ordered it was that you could add seared foie gras, but the foie gras was all out since I was eating so close to closing time.
I knew with a main course that good I would have to order dessert. I had the “Chocolate Ganache-cake bosvruchen marshmallow en yoghurtijs” Chocolate ganache cake with forestfruit marshmellow and yogurt ice cream.
It started to rain and I didn’t really care. Sometimes when you are traveling you just take things in stride. But the waiters rushed out and put me under a big umbrella. I felt very taken care of, which means so much when you are a lone traveler.
I had heard a lot about the architecture in Rotterdam, with one striking example being the yellow cube houses (Kubuswoningen). As soon as you exit the train station they are right there, and continue across the street right to my Hotel. The smaller houses, designed by architect Piet Blom, are single family units, with one being used as a showcase house for tours. There are two large ones that have been converted into hostels. I was unaware of that when I was booking this trip, but maybe next time. StayOK Hostel.
The location of Citizen M couldn’t be better. Although it is across the street from the station and Foodhallen, the hotel is through a breezeway and faces a courtyard with a small harbor, so it is sheltered from the hustle and bustle.
I asked for a room with a view and they looked a little pained and said they wished I had checked in earlier. I made mention of my long day and she kindly dug up a fantastic room for me. The room was rather small. If you are traveling with someone else, you had better like them enough to be right on top of them. The view from the bed that was nestled in front of the giant picture window made me feel like I was in a nest, so I was very comfortable.
The only weird thing is the bathroom, which is a kind of giant plastic insert with the toilet and shower enclosed. I would not want to be sharing that bathroom with another person.
There are a lot of shared public spaces for hanging out in the hotel, and Europeans seem to make use of them more than we do in America. The hallway was a little spooky.
The room was super high tech with an Ipod that controlled the drapes, the tv and the lights. My mother would have hated it. But I was into it, and I enjoyed curling up watching the almost first-run movies.
It was getting late, but again, I love Europe’s late night dinners.
The train station in Haarlem was beautiful, with mosaics that looked almost socialist.
There was some confusion in the Haarlem ticket office about how my Eurail pass worked. I had to run back and forth between the office and the ticket taker. When it was finally handled, I rushed off to my train. When i arrived in Rotterdam an hour later, I realized I did not have my backpack with me, only my rolly bag and a shopping bag with snacks and magazines. I called the train people from the Rotterdam station. You can imagine how time-consuming and useless that was. So I got on the train heading back to Haarlem.
It was not in the lost and found in Haarlem even though I was certain I left it in the office. No one had seen it. They called the train people too, and after 20 minutes of the woman on the phone questioning me and writing down all of my info she said, “We will not be calling you.”
Why not?
“That train has arrived at its final destination and the bag is not on it.”
It’s not on the train. It’s in the station. There is no way to let me know if my bag is found at the station?”
“I’m sorry. No.”
After 2 hours of frustration I did the logical thing and went outside to cry. Then, just like in a movie where the hero/lost puppy/girlfriend reappears just as all hope is lost, one of the people from the office came out to get me. And there it was, on the counter.
I had left it on the floor while I went back and forth dealing with my ticket and a guard had assumed it belonged to an employee…because its not like anyone else would have luggage at a train station…and he put it in the room with the employees stuff.
I arrived back in Rotterdam too late to do anything that day, but I did handle a lot of frustration on my own without calling Bob and leaning on him for support. So I feel good that I am becoming more independent, which is one of the things traveling is supposed to teach you. Also, never set your stuff down, and count all of your bags repeatedly. Lesson learned.
Well, since I did have to take 3 train rides, here are some pretty pictures from the train.
On Sunday I wasn’t planning on doing too much, but the sun was out for the first time since I arrived and I couldn’t waste it. We take our sunshine for granted in Southern California. I decided to take a boat ride through the canals in Amsterdam. The boat docks were in Dam Square and it was crammed with tourists. It was like the worst of Disneyland and Vegas. Lots of cranky Americans. The buildings were beautiful, and the train station was stunning.
Since I arrived on impulse I hadn’t pre-booked so all of the open boats were booked. I had to take a semi-open boat which was like a greenhouse with windows. Every other bench did not have a window, but luckily the man in front of me didn’t mind me sticking my camera over his shoulder to shoot out his window. I recommend you book your boat tour beforehand.
The recorded tour was boring, and I started to feel like a kid whose parents were forcing him on horrible educational vacation activities. One note in the long boring talk of merchants stood out, “Although merchants did trade in slaves, they were never employed in Dutch households.” But you did pretty much invent the African slave trade and used them on your plantations in the Americas. Anyways, back to the pretty buildings…
I wandered around a bit on foot, but I couldn’t find the museum of black light art. It seems to have closed. And Poesenboot, a floating cat sanctuary is closed to visitors on Sundays. I got burned out and took an Uber to Foodhallen.
Foodhallen, in a converted tram depot, is similar to LA’s Grand Central Market, Vancouver’s Granville Island and Philadelphia’s Terminal Building. It does not have the grocery-like stalls of vegetables, cheeses and butchers that many other markets have. Most of the food, except maybe some scores from the bakery and charcuterie, are meant to be eaten in the large, communal dining hall. Being that it was a weekend, it was crowded, but people were happy to share their table and compare plates with each other.
I tried the famous bar snack, Bitterballen, but I wasn’t too into it. More about that later. Italian food and tapas are big here. I loved the little open-faced canape-like sandwiches from Basque Barra de Pinxtos. Pinxtos differ from tapas in that they are speared with little toothpicks, usually affixing meats and seafood to bread.
Belgian friites with mayo are a popular snack, as well as shavings of Iberico ham in paper cones. I even splurged by having a beer and taking some little tarts home. Wait, that didn’t sound right…
I wanted to stay local and do some laundry on Saturday, so I found a laundromat and stuffed my clothes in the reusable grocery bag I had bought at the market. If you ever do want to “blend in” with the locals I suggest you buy a local grocery store bag. Almost everyone spoke to me in Dutch.
A really nice girl at the laundromat showed me how their system worked, then recommended a nearby bakery to while away the time. Banketbakkerij D&P is a small bakery and chocolate shop, so I bought some candied citrus dipped in chocolate with a little cayenne for the people back at work. They had a menu of broodjes which is a roll, and it can mean a sandwich or a burger or anything on or near a bun. I ordered without knowing what it was, and it turned out to be a nice egg and cheese sandwich on delicious, fresh bread.
When I got back to the hotel, the park next door was having a big antique flea market. Everyone was so accommodating when I asked to take pictures of their wares. I think they were flattered that I admired their staging, which they had obviously spent some time and thought on.
One man demanded a euro to photograph the table, then insisted I take his picture. Afterward, I gave him a 2 euro coin and told him to have a beer on me. I expected him to refuse, but he took it and asked, “That’s all you’ve got?” I am beginning to love Dutch people.
There are some old toys that are so intensely happy that they look creepy. My friends the Guerenas collect trippy toys and there were so many of them that I wished I were their personal shopper. The kid on this box is not really into this tea party
I couldn’t take this doll home because I would have had to buy it its own seat on the plane.
I took this pic for my friend Donna..
I did buy this evil-looking manic dog. How could I not?
I also had to buy this crying baby doll. Because what little girl wants a doll that is so miserable? The lady at the stall tried to show me some happier dolls and i insisted, “I want it because its crying.” That caused a nearby shopper to burst out in laughter and I felt I had met a kindrid spirit.
There was an Indian restaurant on the corner across the street from my hotel, imaginatively named Restaurant India Corner. The owner was really nice, and they had insanely hot samosas. The shrimp curry wasn’t too spicy, but was flavorful. The mango ice cream was mind-blowing. As seems to be the rage in Haarlem, it was deconstructed and had delicious smears of raspberry and flurries of coconut.
Haarlem is a great little town for a romantic getaway, to just wander and look at pretty buildings, window shop, walk in the parks and eat in cute little restaurants. During tulip season it explodes with flowers, and there is a very picturesque windmill that I didn’t visit.
Mechanical flowers installation at Stedelijk Museum Amsterdam from Studio Drift
After Banksy, I went to check out the Stedelijk Museum, Amsterdam’s modern art museum. As pretty as they are, I did not fall down these stairs.
They are featuring an exhibit called “Coded Nature” from Studio Drift, two Dutch artists who create installations based on their shared love of science fiction and technology.
From Studio Drift: Coded Nature, shows an overview of 10 years exploring fluctuating relationships between nature, technology and mankind. In addition to early work, the exhibition features new and previously unseen work. In total, the presentation comprises eight room-filling installations, together with a selection of films, sculptures, prototypes, and models. The show will run through August 2018.
Drifter, “a floating concrete monolith measuring four by two by two meters.” This sculpture not only floats in space, but it does drift around the room. I asked the guard how it is held up. He replied, “It’s a mystery to me too.”
Fragile Future Chandelier can be adapted to fit any space. This one is Fragile Future Chandelier 3.5. I really like the way the lights on the right wall balance the piece.
Another whimsical exhibition were the dioramas of Stefan Tcherepnin, inhabited by “The Mad Masters.” American artist and musician Stefan Tcherepnin captures moments in the lives of four furry monsters.
“Freedom is Recognized Necessity” will be on view through August 12, 2018. “Featured are artworks from the Soviet sphere of influence, acquired by the Stedelijk after the end of the Cold War.” This totalitarian art from the time of Brezhnev features slogans from political leaders and images of heroic workers.
Milan Kunc
STEDELIJK BASE is the permanent installation of iconic works from the collection. The entrance to the base is unreal. Using quotes from people like George Orwell, Barbara Kruger designed the entire stairwell. There is a hidden bathroom door on the right.
I did not fall down these stairs either, although it would have been somewhat poetic.
The two paintings in this installation, “High Voltage Painting” by Martial Raysse and Elaine Sturtevang were painted four years apart, the first by Raysse and the second by Sturtevang with Raysse’s permission.
A section of “Naked Girl Behind a Curtain” by Ernst Ludwig Kirchner.
“Double Portrait of the Artist and His Wife,” Quappi by Max Beckman. After fleeing Germany after his expressionist artwork was condemned by the nazis, Beckman painted this portrait during an extended stay in Amsterdam on their way to the United States.
Claude Raimond-Dityvon. Paris, May 1968. A lone protestor challenges a line of riot police.
Pablo Picasso “Seated Woman with a Fish-Hat.”
Billie Zangewa’s fabric work, “Midnight Aura,” which addresses globalization as well as self-discovery. The designs used are known as Hollandaise or Dutch Wax due to Dutch textile industry. I am unsure of what Hollandaise sauce has to do with textiles.
I decided to leave the Van Gogh and Rijksmuseum until my last weekend, as I can only not fall down so many stairs a day. There was a grocery store serendipitously next-door. I loaded up and took an Uber back to my room for a late night picnic.
“Mickey Snake” from “Dismaland” installation. 2015. Fiberglass, Polyester Resin and Acrylic.
Friday was a cloudy day, and after another breakfast of eggs benedict I headed to the museums. I took the city bus, and the driver yelled at me for not understanding that you need a special card to wave in front of a sensor for the bus, and they do not accept cash, but you can use your ATM/Mastercard in a machine near the windshield, but only after the driver keys in the amount due on a little screen. I retorted, “Stop yelling at me! It’s my first time!” To avoid these little quibbles, I suggest you buy the City Pass ahead of time. It is good for public transport and museums and most of the tourist sites. This is not an advertisement or a sponsored post. I really wished I had the damn card I could just wave in front of the sensor.
After I arrived in Amsterdam, I stopped at Happy Happy Joy Joy. My hipster radar should have been going off at that name, but the chef is Julius Jaspers and I had read good things about the place. The interior was cool.
I tried the Peking duck bao, which I expected to be in a folded-over bun like a taco. LA-style. Instead it was a cute little slider. Sadly, it was excruciatingly sweet. It reminded of a pulled pork sandwich. The shrimp har gao was good, but no better than most other dim sum places. It was a very small sampling from a huge menu, but enter at your own risk.
I first checked out MOCO, their modern art museum located in a refinished old house. They were having an exhibit of Banksy and Lichtenstein. The mysterious Banksy started his graffiti career in 1990 as part of the Bristol underground scene. Since then he has gone on to create subversive art through sculpture, painting, installations and “actions” such as distributing fake UK currency bearing the likeness of Princess Diana. He has even written a book and directed a movie. But his primary medium has been stencil work. He said in an interview that he couldn’t spray paint fast enough and would get caught, so pre-made stencils gave him the ability to create intricate designs with quickness. The use of this medium has also helped him to become a prolific artist with a staggering body of work. Some people believe the quantity and scope of work points to a collective rather than an individual, although Banksy is always referred to as “he” by his friends and representatives. Some people have synched up the appearance of Banksy’s public works with the touring schedule of a certain rock band, but like the Residents, I ignore any attempts to out anonymous artists as I believe it takes the fun out of it.
The museum also had a small exhibit of Roy Lichtenstein’s pop art from the 60s, which focuses on the melodrama and art of comic books and advertisements.
Being that the museum is in an old house, there were narrow stairs coming down from the attic. I naturally slipped on them and fell down the stairs. It wasn’t too serious of a spill. I fell on my ass and went bump bump down a couple stairs. I scraped an elbow and had a sore bruise on my thigh for several days. The guards were extremely worried and followed me around for the rest of my visit, presumably to catch me? I had to lock myself in the ladies room. Later when I checked the tread on my sneaker the brand name printed there was ironically TRACTION.
I checked into my hotel in Harlaam, Carlton Square Hotel, late Wednesday night. The hotel is nicer and more boutiquey than I could tell from the website. The bed is so soft and cozy and the bathtub is huge. The hotel is next to a park with a big tree nearby for reading under.
One section of the hotel had a Monopoly theme.
One thing I love about Europe is the late dining hours. I was able to order room service, although it was a mixed bag. The shrimp cocktail was not what I expected. It was a jar full of tiny shrimp that tasted really intense and fishy. I know to some people and many cultures that is considered a good thing. I know my friend Tequila would have LOVED it.
I had a serviceable steak friites, and a very modern cheesecake.
I slept well, woke at 11am and enjoyed a fantastic eggs benedict at the hotel’s restaurant, Bar & Kitchen Zocher, on a patio overlooking a park.
I wandered through the neighborhood…they had nice little thrift shops and eateries. Here is a great thrift store find, but way too big and heavy for my luggage.
When I came back to the hotel the guy at the front desk looked at me weird and I felt paranoid. I recognized the symptoms of culture shock, so I went upstairs and went back to bed.
In the evening, I went to the Grote Markt (Big Market) at the center of town and looked around the 700 year-old square. It’s great to sightsee in the summer here, since the sun doesn’t go down until after 9pm.
I noticed one of the little restaurants was packed, so I figured Fortuyn must be good. I had a really nice, chef-forward dinner. I asked what was on the chef’s 3-course prix fixe menu for 39.50 Euro, and the waiter told me, “It is a surprise.” You have to take a risk sometimes, right? The meal started with an amazing plate of Beef Carpaccio with white asparagus, fresh tomatoes, pepitas, avocado and Parmesan. The dish perfectly highlighted the eco-friendly hereford cows the restaurant sources.
With the second course I drew the short straw. I’m not a big fan of lamb, but the lamb chops accompanied by roasted sweet potato, friites, a squishy cooked eggplant and salad were of the highest quality. I didn’t want to insult the chef or waste such good food, so I actually ate all of the lamb, and it sort of grew on me. They cook in a Spanish josper oven, which uses charcoal, and the lamb was enhanced by a gentle smoke flavor.
The dessert was just spectacular. It was deconstructed, as has been the trend for a number of years now. Raspberry ice cream and custard were accompanied by a rich pastry cream, fresh raspberries and a sweet fluff that was almost like cotton candy. It was garnished with a paper-thin slice of candied orange that cracked like glass under the teeth.
After visiting Italy last year, I figured it would be years before I had another opportunity to travel. It’s really expensive. But then Bob’s band got scheduled to play a festival in the western part of Germany and built a tour around it. Years ago, when Bob went to England, I tagged along because he had a week after to hang out with me, and his travel was free. With Italy I planned to meet up with the band every 3rd or 4th day, but it didn’t work out. This time I’m not even pretending. I will go to the festival, which is one day, and travel Holland and Germany alone just because I have an excuse.
I would not have chosen to go if the flights were $888 – $1200, which they were when I started looking. But after a few days of messing around, I found a RT flight for $516. So, cool! I decided, I will stay for maybe 10 days, in cheap hotels, can do. But then I saw that the end of Tulip season will be a week after I get to The Netherlands. You can’t go all that way and miss the tulips! I stretched it back as far as I could, leaving in Mid-May. Giving me a 3-week trip, because Freak Fest is in the beginning of June. The tulips may still be gone, but I will have given it my best shot.
I decided to only stay in 2 places — Amsterdam and Berlin, then to the festival. I didn’t want to lug my heavy bags across train stations like I did in Italy. I am no longer a backpacker hopping casually from place to place nimbly-pimbly. Then I started looking at hotels. Amsterdam hotel prices go crazy in the summer. The hostels were over $100. With 4 – 8 people on bunk beds in the room. Although some of them were interesting, like the Botel (I was into it, but reviews said you have to take a ferry then a long walk every time you come and go).
Then there is Train Lodge. It might have been super cool if I were in my 20s and traveling with a friend. But reviews said the beds were so uncomfortable that in the morning it felt like you had been hit by a train. Other descriptors: Nasty, terrible, cold showers, cramped…Yeah…I’m out. Trip Advisor reviews and photos are indispensable when it comes to booking a place.
Oh, and I also considered a place full of pods, lit with neon, in case it wasn’t futuristic enough. 21st century people storage. If you didn’t have to share a pod with a rando, it might be ok. But it is a little Soylent Green for me. It’s called City Hub Amsterdam, and it was already sold out. At $160 a night.
I decided I am just too old for hostels. I can’t do it. I need my sleep when I travel or I’ll get sick. I started looking at places with private rooms and shared bathrooms. There is a place called Hotel Not Hotel with some trippy rooms, if you can call them that. You can sleep in an old camper inside the large hall, or in little mini houses built in the hall. Upstairs there is a fun feature…rooms that are hidden behind book cases. In Amsterdam. Home of the Anne Frank House.
HOTEL NOT HOTEL
THE ANNE FRANK HOUSE
Of course I booked that room, because it was so crazy. Just no self-awareness at all. Or quelle horror–are they real places where Jews were hidden as well? Like, “Every house here has a hidden room from the German occupation. That’s where the kids sleep when my brother comes to visit.” Nevertheless, I cancelled the reservation. It was just too creepy. I also decided not to visit the Corrie Ten Boom House. The book, The Hiding Place made a big impression on me as a kid. But Tripadvisor showed pictures of people posing and smiling in the crawlspace and hiding place behind the wall, which I found incredibly tacky. I don’t think I will visit any WWII sites. I don’t think I can handle it.
So I decided to stay just outside of Amsterdam, in Haarlem. Haarlem is in the center of the flower district, so I won’t have to book a tour to see tulips. If there are tulips. But I was still going to have to cut Amsterdam short and spend some of the time in another place, even though they have so many museums I want to see. So I am spending a few nights in Rotterdam, an ultra-modern, design-focused city near the sea. So it will still be the Netherlands, and anyways, I will have to go back to Amsterdam for my return flight anyways.
I’m going to work full time, plus freelance, and sell all of my records. Along with our tax return, hopefully it will be enough. I spent so much in Italy, which was only 2 weeks, so I will have to be super-careful. luckily it looks like there are a lot of cheap eats!