Holland: Part 2

The definitive image of Holland: Clogs and Guns

It's always a great feeling waking up in a new country for the first time, even if slightly disoriented and hungover. No matter though, sleep and general bodily health would have to take a back seat the next few days, as I only had until Sunday to get the most out of Amsterdam as I possibly could. Charlotte took her exam in Utrecht Friday afternoon, so Julia and I took the train to the city. I booked a hostel as soon as we arrived then stepped into the fray. I wish I had taken more pictures of the city as trying to describe Centrum is a difficult task. On the one hand you've got the Royal Palace towering over the Dam (a vast cobblestone plaza), solidifying the rather beautiful Dutch Golden Age architecture. But unfortunately, the quaintness/authenticity stops there, at least at first impression. The tourist center is a fucking capitalist circus. The Voor Burgwal, which runs south from the Central Station is infested with a line of American fast food restaurants, tacky souvenir stores with t-shirts that boast "I survived Amsterdam," and just a general mob of tourists with their fanny packs and cameras.

Ice Skating in front of the Rijks Museum

Anyway, I really don't want to get stuck in a rant about the commercialization. It's just that it's not a very big city, so the intensity of the cheap materialism is a little overwhelming. But on to real culture. Julia and I checked out the Rijks Museum. It houses a large collection of Rembrandts, and is an awe inspiring building in itself. Somehow it reminded me of the National Archives on the DC Mall, but it might have just been the ice skating. The museum's best known work, The Night Watch must have been 25 feet tall and 30 ft across, the artist's largest work. We explored the rest of the day, visited some coffeeshops, and generally tried to get a handle on the city.

The Night Watch

We met up with Charlotte and her sister and fiancee at a Tapas bar on Utrecht Straat (Does it lead back to Utrecht?). Charlotte's sister is a lawyer in Amsterdam and was getting ready to buy a house. I can't express how special this experience was: sharing a meal with two working professionals in Amsterdam, dealing with the obstacles this soon to be college graduate will undoubtedly face. They reminisced about their college days, how they've dealt with living in a city like Amsterdam, and climbing the professional ladder. They were also fun, playful, not to mention generous in picking up the tab. I pulled out my wallet but was stopped with a "you kids need your money for beer." We said our goodbyes and they hopped on their bicycles, cheerily wishing us luck as they slipped away.

We grabbed a few more beers at a bar next door before saying goodbye to Julia and Charlotte...On my own in Amsterdam. I met some nice kids in my hostel (the lovely Hans Brinker), but I spent most of Saturday by myself. I made a list and methodically checked them off: Van Gogh museum, Vondel Park, Red Light District, a few more coffeeshops. Charlotte's sister had directed me to Jordaan, the "Real Amsterdam" as she put it.
No English, no neon signs, no cheap shops, and actually no evidence of the handful of social activities that Holland allows and the majority of world governments happen to prohibit; the cause of the tourist explosion.

The Jordaan Market

The city was cold and rainy on Sunday. The familiar chilly mist hit my face and I was filled with a surprising sentiment: homecoming. A return to the lovely and comfortable, my home away from home- back to Edinburgh.

As if I couldn't pack anymore into the weekend, my friend Sophie and I bought tickets from a scalper for Clap Your Hands Say Yeah! on Sunday night. Then of course we had to go to a pub to watch the Super Bowl til three in the morning. Oh yeah, and the band came in to watch it with us.

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