Amsterdam once more

The first day of the new month. In my youth, I always thought of September 1st as the first day of school and, too, the day Poland was attacked by the Nazis in 1939. It's the 80th anniversary today of the start of that horribly cruel war.

I think about this because we do walk near Anne Frank's house. Too, some of the city's bulletin boards occasionally flash a reminder of what happened 80 years ago, when slogans of hate turned into a tragedy so huge that it still defies comprehension.

Outside, the air has definitely cooled down. We're reaching a high of 68F (20C) and the skies have any number of gray clouds moving briskly along, though never quite threatening rain. (We are nearing the end of our summer travels. It truly amazes me that in all our ramblings through Ireland, the UK, Brittany and now Amsterdam, we've never once needed an umbrella, to say nothing of the panchos I so carefully selected for the trip!)

Inside -- we begin our day with play. Snowdrop, my roommate in Amsterdam, has boarded a train. We are about to take off. ("Just dont say chug-a-choo, Gogs, because this train doesn't make that noise." The girl's too used to high speed trains!)






Breakfast, downstairs, en famille.











And now for a Sunday walk, with the new stroller (gratis airline's breaking of the old one) -- so much more sensible for travel!






We visit the Royal Palace Amsterdam, the official reception palace of the Netherlands' King Willem-Alexander. Snowdrop has a mild fascination with royalty, so perhaps it's appropriate that she see some of the trappings -- none too comfortable, if you ask me.

The tour is a self-guided one and there is a child-friendly text for young visitors (though perhaps not quite for 4-year olds).






Sparrow gets a little restless. Royal furniture and elaborate chandeliers make no impression on him. He wants something more... his speed. So I give him my listening device.






There is a child's "scavenger hunt" that Snowdrop does with the help of her parents. All this does keep her interest going, though honestly, I've always thought that once you see two or three rooms of this sort, you're satiated (unless you have a particular interest in antiques, or have special pride in the royals in your land).






Outside again, we are on the Dam Square. There is a man blowing bubbles (obviously wanting to entice you into buying your own bubble blowing equipment). The kids go wild chasing the big fat soapy bubbles. Snowdrop tries to join in, but the kids are big...






... and the bubbles float high...






It's a while before she lands one and by then, the thrill is gone.





The afternoon was to be set aside for a Snowdrop and mommy date. Of all the combinations of family members, this is the one that is most difficult to give time to. And so this afternoon was to be theirs. And it was, to an extent.

Initially, we all joined in on the tram ride. Heading in the same direction.






Then, they chose a traditional Dutch pancake house for lunch. Daddy and Sparrow and I were about to go off, but then Snowdrop was sorry to see her brother go. So brother and daddy stayed. I was invited to join in, but it seemed to me that this wonderfully inclusive family should have at least one meal by themselves.






Me, I meandered along canals, stopping at a Swedish shop with adorable kids' clothing and very good sandwiches in their cafe. With an apple spritz, overlooking the canal. Sort of.






A walk along the stately Herengracht Canal (home to our hotel)...






(Bridges...)





And I'm home, catching up on computer work, while to my knowledge, daddy and son are hitting a modern art museum and mommy and daughter are visiting a tinkerbell toy store and blowing their own bubbles on Rembrandt Square.


In the evening, we take a long walk through the Jordaan neighborhood of Amsterdam, and past houseboats, and even the old windmill...






... to our dinner place, the Cafe Restaurant Amsterdam. It's a big walk: 40 minutes from city center. The restaurant itself is housed in an industrial building -- a nineteenth century water pumping station. The tables are set in the old engine room.






Perhaps one of the most remarkable things about this restaurant is that it bills itself as having high quality food, at the same time that it is extremely child friendly. Not surprisingly, maybe half the tables have kids of varying ages.

(Snowdrop, learning the art of eating an artichoke...)






(Sparrow, liking his first escargot...)






As for the rest of the food -- well, my son-in-law and I could not resist the seafood platter. I missed having it in Brittany but we surely made up for it here: snails, clams, crabs, langoustines, shrimp, oysters and a half a lobster. It was exquisite!






We are too full to do the long hike back to our hotel, so we hop on the tram and get off just in front of an ice cream store. Intentionally. For dessert.











Walking the last few blocks to our hotel, I have to think how beautiful an evening can be, when you're well fed, cared for, loved. When the world appears to you as a warm and exciting place, where people are not hostile, but friendly, eager to have you succeed.

Oh, but if that were so for all the little ones on this planet -- wouldn't that be just grand...

Amsterdam on a summer day

A morning view in Amsterdam.





It's hard to believe that it's the last day of August. Didn't summer lilies do their dance just a few days back? Weren't we only beginning our summer ritual of eating breakfast outside at the farmette? And here, in Europe, weren't we just planning beach outings and collecting seashells for sand castles?

It's a warm day here, in Amsterdam. Since this is a weekend, I expect many families will be out and about, enjoying the last hours of radiant, summer-like sunshine. Some kids here have already started school. Amsterdam, for example, began its school year on August 26th. (The Netherlands are divided into three regions and each one has a different school start date.) You can be sure that on a warm day like this one, they'll be looking to do something outdoorsy, likely active, perhaps in one of the city's parks.

That's our plan as well: outdoorsy, park-based, active.


Snowdrop, who is sleeping in my room, wakes up a tiny bit earlier than I would have wanted. I suppose she'll catch up on sleep when we return home. Here, her excitement gets her up and moving when her little form is still whispering -- more rest please!

One of the pleasant hings about staying at a hotel is that someone does a lot of stuff for you: clean up the room. Prepare you a breakfast to your liking. Wash up the dishes. Smiles pleasantly and wishes you a great day. It's not trivial: You're free to think where to go and what to accomplish and thus you're out the door a lot earlier than had you been doing it all on your own.





I have two ideas for outings: the flower market and Vondelpark (Amsterdam's most central large greenspace).

The flower market here is unique in that all the bulbs and flower paraphernalia (and not a few flower type souvenirs) are sold on boats permanently stationed on the Singel Canal -- just a handful of minutes away from our hotel.

A few pictures from our morning walk there:






(each merchant house is different...)





















And now the park: it's your oasis calm, away from the noise of the crowded city. We walk the length of this green space, half looking for a playground for the kids. (Snowdrop has had to make do with cramming herself into the bag compartment of the stroller; in the alternative she can choose to walk, but the distances are not small; the airlines broke off a section of the stroller that attaches the second seat. We filed a claim and now the young couple is trying to decide if they should replace all or part of this rather monstrous buggy.)

(In the park, she walks.)





We spot something toward the end of the park. Oh, it's a rather large, rather shallow, pleasantly cool kids' wading pool! Dress comes off, Snowdrop plops right in.





She is all smiles the whole time she is there. I mean, it's just too perfect: splash all you want to, dear child, it's still summer, just for this one August day!





Sparrow, too, loves the coolness of the water.






He dangles his feet, splashes gleefully, chortling now and then at the ridiculousness of it all!





It's a lovely way to end August! Such a gift from this often rainy and windswept city!


(humanity, including the young family, in the park...)






(back on city streets, where bikes come out from all directions, seemingly with the goal of running you down... or, in this case, delivering a chair to someone who needs it...)






We eat lunch at a cafe-sandwich shop just around the corner (Singel 404). Toast and various cheeses and additional accoutrements.






And now it's time rest. But not just yet for me. I stroll over toward Dam Square -- a popular counterculture gathering place in the years when smoking weed was still a bit of a no-no here (today, you cannot walk through the city without smelling the stuff, wafting from one place or another).











This is a walk I did often in the years when I came to the city by train from the airport. I'll never forget how odd it seemed to be traveling to or from Warsaw -- a city that was, in those years, rather devoid of commercial glitz -- and to be entering this rather crazy section of town, where clothing stores trip over each other and people jostle to fill their bags with stuff. I can't say I ever liked that sudden onslaught of not necessarily pretty shop displays, but it was clear that the difference between Amsterdam and Warsaw was then immense.

Today, I quickly have my fill of all the shopping chaos as well. I do pick up an item or two for a grandchild, but otherwise, I am happy to be back by the hotel's canal -- a place that is far more serene and satisfying than the craziness of the commercial heart of this city. [Ironically, I repeat this path, chaos and all, with the young family in the late afternoon. The goal is to see Dam Square. Then to get out as quickly as possible.]



In the evening we first go to a store to look for a replacement stroller. And after, we go to dinner at an Indonesian Restaurant. Amsterdam is filled with them and even in my younger years, I found the experience of sitting down to a Rijsttafel (an Indonesian string of dishes that is always surprising, often delicious, and sometimes quite spicy) to be quite fun. We're not entirely sure that the kids will be equally thrilled, but of course, exposing them to new things is part of the adventure and so we cross our fingers and head to Sampurna.

It turns out to be a wonderful meal. We like our spicy foods. Snowdrop falls in love with one dish and eats all of it. Sparrow? Well, he gets hooked on shrimp bread.






(hey, I like it too!)






(leave some for me!)






The walk home: it had showered while we were eating. With that rain came a shift in temperatures.





Amsterdam is getting ready for September.

to Amsterdam

How can it be hard to say goodbye to an ocean? Nothing more than a body of water, right? I do think though that there are two groups of people out there: those who live by the sea and those who do not. I belong to the latter category. My focus is on what grows in the earth, not what swims in the waters. And so it's been healthy to forget for a while about gardens and about growing things and to focus instead on cities (Paris) and now, in the last few days, on ocean waters.

These waters, reflecting the color of the sky, joining forces to create a beautiful tableau. (Sunrise...)





But now it's time to move away.

We're not exactly returning home yet. We're traveling back, but stopping first at a city -- Amsterdam.

I have a slight nostalgia toward that place. The Netherlands was the first foreign country that I visited alone. I was 18 and traveling from Poland, on my way to my au paire job in New York. I had no money. I had to borrow some from my uncle for travel expenses. And I had to stop in Amsterdam, because my flights demanded an overnight there. I had an older copy of "Europe on $5 a day" with me (this was from the 60s, so it theoretically was possible to travel on $5 a day, though I think the book was overly optimistic about keeping it pleasant and at the same time cheap) and I looked up the hotels listed there. One of them was the Ambassade. [It was the last time the hotel appeared in that book. For many years after, the authors would lament  -- "the hotel Ambassade has sadly departed from our listings, though we still like it and wish that it was a little bit cheaper." A wistful longing for the impossible: to keep that special little place affordable to even the most frugal traveler.]

In all the years I returned to Amsterdam with my own young family, we'd stay at the Ambassade. And it was always very proper, and very nice, if somewhat climbing in price above the (single digit) dollar a day level.

And so it is no surprise that today, we're heading for the Ambassade.

*   *   *

But first, a rush to clean up our AirBnB in Brittany, a quick trip to the bakery for breakfast treats (the kids keep me company!)...






For a last breakfast in our beachfront apartment...










... and then a cab ride to the Brest airport...


 



... from where a plane takes us to Paris...





... and then, from there to  Amsterdam.

It sounds so deceptively simple, doesn't it? Breakfast, good bye ocean, cab ride, one flight, next flight and boom! We're there. But as you know it's never linear with a young child. Snowdrop by now is easy to move through the travel steps. Sparrow is just one and therefore less predictable. There are the leaky diaper issues, the refusals to nap or even sit still. Hungry or, for no reason, not hungry at all, only to be hungry ten minutes later.  He's a sweet boy, if only people didn't keep strapping him to a seat for who knows how long. We all breathe a sigh of relief when he decides to close his eyes on the final leg of today's journey and snuggle into a lap, mommy's lap, and fall asleep.


*   *   *   

Amsterdam's temperatures are climbing again. This typically cooler city is going to be toasty tomorrow. How many waves of hot air are going to pass through Europe this year?

For now, things are pleasant. We arrive at our canal-facing hotel in the early evening to a delicate light of this northern city.

Snowdrop is sharing a room with me, while Sparrow is sleeping with his parents. Here's the view out my (more accurately, "our") window:






You can't see? Let's try again:






*   *   *


How  would I describe Amsterdam... Hmm... I used to think of it as being chock full of canals, great art, and as a cherry on top -- it has a fabulous orchestra. (As a young person, I loved classical music concerts.) These days, I think of it as a place for young people. The crowds, the relaxed vibe -- it seems to define the city. It never quite lost its place in the free spirit line up. Acceptance appears to come easy for the people here. You can't be surprised that gay marriage was first made legal in the Netherlands.

We have only a few minutes at the hotel. Snowdrop is radiant -- the canals enchant her. The lovely rooms overlooking them are storybook material! But we must head out for dinner. The kids have not been sleeping enough. And we have a dinner reservation to pay attention to.

We eat at Eatmosfera. It struck me that while the grownups were looking for something exciting and unusual, the kids surely are wanting something comforting and easy.  Snowdrop loves her pasta, Sparrow loves his pizza and us big guys revel in our carpaccios and fishes and who knows what else. Eatmosfera I think satisfies both.






(mutual adoration...)






It wasn't a short meal and toward the end, I'm thinking that the kids might enjoy a break from being on good behavior and so I take them out for a short stroll to the nearby Rembrandt monument. I think even Snowdrop is a bit young for a museum visit to see the great Dutch masters, so consider this her (and Sparrow's!) introduction to the golden age of Dutch art.






Fountains help set the mood.






We walk back to our rooms at our hotel tired but deeply satisfied. And of course, there is that last view onto the canal, in the evening light.






What child, what grownup would not be enchanted!