Adventure in Delft: 08.28.2010

Before setting off on the train to Delft, about an hour's journey time, I ran a quick errand in Amsterdam. Just a few minutes after 10am, when most museums open, I stopped by Nieuwe Kerk to buy an museumkaart. Since I am under 24 I was able to purchase it for the student's price - €22.50. With the card one has free access to something like 400 participating museums throughout the Netherlands. In just one day my card was nearly half paid off. This was my first time in Amsterdam in the morning. Shops were just preparing to open and the tourists were just beginning to emerge. I bought a coffee right by Nieuwe Kerk and drank it on a bench in Dam Square where the pigeons were scarce and a man was playing the bag pipes outside the visitor's entrance to the Royal Palace.



I bought a sandwich at the station and ate it on the train. After arriving and stepping off the platform I followed some young but well-dressed businessmen who said they were going to the Town Hall and I could find my way to all the sights and museums from there. But I got distracted along the way when I came upon a street-lined canal full of stands selling antiques. Of course I found something to buy to remember my day in Delft before it had even begun.



Vermeer Centrum
Sadly no paintings by Johannes Vermeer remain in his home city of Delft. However, the Vermeer Centrum is still worth a visit. I love his paintings but I knew very little about him aside from the story presented in the film Girl With a Pearl Earring (which I highly recommend.) Over the course of about an hour here I discovered that I'm not the only one to know so little about him. There are no letters by his hand left to study so his "voice" is only accessible through his paintings, which are rather difficult to study even for art scholars. He only created between 40-60 in his lifetime which is an usually small body of work.

The Centrum was built on the same spot where the Guildhouse of St. Luke once stood. All artists and craftsmen (including glassmakers, potters, and booksellers) in Delft were required to join this guild, which was established to protect their trade but also provided a network of influence and friendship for its members. The exterior of the Centrum is a recreation of the guildhouse's original exterior for which no expense was spared. Outside the building the arms of the city and the bust of the Classical painter Apelles stood as symbols of the guild's purpose. Cornelis de Mar and Leonart Bramer (who I will discuss later) were commissioned to decorate the boardroom. Vermeer's father was a weaver, inn owner, and art dealer so he was also a member of the guild. Inns and taverns were common places for artists to meet. Thus, it is believed that the time spent in his father's inns (The Flying Fox and Mechelen) was how Vermeer was first exposed to the art world.



One of the biggest unsolved mysteries concerning Vermeer is the identity of his mentor. The Centrum listed sixteen candidates and provided evidence for the three most likely: Leonert Bramer, Christiaen van Couwenbergh, and Gerard ter Borch. Bramer caught my interest since he spent seven years in Italy where he was known as "Leonardo delle Notte" because his paintings were almost always set in the dark and only lit with artificial light. He was an important member of the guild and was head several times. He was a teacher when Vermeer received his training. He was a regular visitor to Mechelen and was probably a family friend of Vermeer's wife. His paintings were set in Classical antiquity or told Biblical stories. The Museum Het Prinsenhof, which you will read about further on in this entry, has a few of his works.



17th century Delft had a busy art market where ordinary citizens, not the Catholic church, were the customers and patrons. Paintings could be bought in an open market and it is estimated that each house had around seven paintings hanging on the walls. Artists began to leave Delft after 1650 because the market became attractive elsewhere but the atmosphere and appreciation is still present to this day. The city reminded me a bit of Florence, so I felt a certain affinity the more I learned about it's Golden Age.

Since Delft has direct access to the sea it was an affluent city dependent on trade. The Dutch East Indies and West Indies companies both had establishments in the city. Mapmakers were regarded as painters for their craft was just as important and required just as much skill. The maps of Joan Blaeu and Pieter Gross, famous cartographers, appear in some of Vermeer's paintings. The presence of globes and maps were key elements in the development of Delft's unique worldview.

So, I learned all of that on just the main floor of the Centrum. The scene was set for the next floor, which was a recreation of his studio and focused on analyzing his technique and style.





Nearly all painters of the Golden Age used Emblemata, a text which described hundreds of emblems and their symbolism, to include messages, morals, or stories in their works. Vermeer is described as "a painter of quiet encounters" who "tempts the observer to join him in being inquisitive." He didn't use such emblems. Therefore, as I have already mentioned, there is a lot of guesswork involved in interpretating his paintings. His figures always fill the center space of his paintings but they are never in the foreground. There is always something in the way. This is called répoussoir. Infrared technology has enabled scientists and scholars to view the paint layers beneath the visible surface. For example, "A Maid Asleep" was first a man with a hat and a small dog. Another common element of paintings were tronies, specific types of figures that appear again and again in various paintings: the virgin girl, the comforting mother, the warrior, ect. Vermeer, however, created photographic portraits of real people who appear exactly as they are: maids, noblemen, noblewomen, ect.

Aside from specific paintings, Vermeer is recognized for his use of light and color. The light source is always natural and comes from one side through a window in his studio. It doesn't simply have a direction but it emits the feeling that it is falling. The figures and objects in the room are all softly effected. In this way Vermeer evokes a sense that the light itself is being emitted from the painting.

Even though the Centrum doesn't have any of his originals, I walked out feeling much wiser and more connected to him and his Delft. As I moved away hazingly I realized that I was inadvertently wearing the precise shades of blue and yellow which he used frequently.

Musuem Het Prinsenhof
With a deepening understand of Delft and Vermeer I made my way towards a history museum which I wasn't particularly interested in visiting but my love for museums drew me onwards. And I am glad it did because my historical perspective of Holland blossomed here. I took notes at the Vermeer Centrum but there were so many rooms here that it would have taken me hours to write everything down.

The museum is in the same building that was used as a convent and as William the Silent's residence during the second half of the 16th century. He was a nobleman who led the Dutch resistance against the Spanish rule over the Netherlands, which at the time was a collection of provinces. The revolt began with the Beeldenstorm, where severe iconoclasm swept through the Low Countries as a protest to King Phillip II of Spain's devout Catholicism and his attempts to suppress the spread of Protestantism. What is now known as the Eighty Years War began. In 1584 William was assassinated by a Catholic Frenchman when he was descending the stairs of his home. Over the centuries there have been multiple re-modelings of the staircase but the museum has attempted to recreate it as best as possible according to various drawings and references. The bullet holes are still visible in the wall.



The rooms on the upper floors were organized according to the different aspects of daily life, society, art, and history of Delft's Golden Age. There were paintings by Leonart Bramer. Paintings which appear hanging on the wall in Vermeer's paintings. Paintings of Delft's "anatomy theater" which included such details as peeled back skin, exposed intestines, an open ribcage, and fascinatingly calm facial expressions on all the observers surrounding the surgical table.

There was a wedding reception in the courtyard just outside and at one point, I believe in the room about Delft Blue (the famous handpainted blue porcelein), one could hear Michael Jackson's "I'm Bad" being played for the guests. Ironically appropriate for a museum about a Dutch rebel who is also sometimes credited as the "father of the country."




Museum Lambert van Meerten
I did not pick up a brochure here (I am not even sure there were any) and there weren't any placcards in English. So, basically I just walked through this house with very little idea about the family who owned it other than the fact that Lambert was a rich art collector.




Oude Kerk (Old Church)
Although the official date of creation for this church is 1246, it is said there was a wooden church on this spot as early as 1050. The church's patron saint is St. Bartholomew, after the name of the original builder, Bartholomew van der Made. The tower, which is 75 meters high and consists of five spires, is reminiscent of Flemish architecture. It was last restored in 1995 but it is still sagging and doesn't stand completely up right. Sort of like the leaning tower in Pisa. The church was a victim to the aforementioned iconoclasm so it was never expanded to create a cross basilica shape. In 1654 Delft's gunpowder magazine exploded and the original stained glass windows were destroyed in the blast. The windows currently sitting in the frames were installed between 1949-1961. All windows, except two, display Biblical subjects. The windows flanking the tower show William the Silent and Queen Wilhelmina. Vermeer was buried in the floor of the Oude Kerk.





Nieuwe Kerk (New Church)
In 1351 a beggar claimed to see a vision of the Virgin Mary and a wooden church was built where she supposedly appeared. In 1420 it was taken down to be replaced with a brick basilica. Not even fifty years after construction was complete, in 1536, the tower was struck by lightening and the roof collapsed. In 1566 iconoclasm stripped the interior of its original furnishings and Catholic decor. The roof collapsed again in 1654 with city's gunpowder explosion.

However, the church is still in use today. It holds the tombs of William the Silent, because at the time of his death Breda, where the burial vaults for the House of Orange were located, was still in the hands of the Spaniards.







Other places of interest in Delft which I did not visit include: Legermuseum (Army Museum), Museum Nusantara, Museum Paul Tetar van Elven. Delft also has a great website here with excellent information for visitors.

A Lesson on Independence

Aside from staying in contact with friends and family back in the States I try to curb my homesickness and get my American culture fix by watching TV. There are a lot of shows here imported from the US. Most are pretty shameless. I completely understand why, generally speaking, the US has a reputation abroad for being materialistic, greedy, and ignorant. That stereotype is enhanced by the the so-called "reality" shows that air overseas. The population of America is not split between living like the cast of the Jersey Shore and the cast of Laguna Beach, The Hills, and The City. My shows of choice over here are Law & Order, House, and Oprah but lately I have been watching The City. I'll admit it, I like the imagined reality of a girl my age living a glamourous life in New York City. With a job in the fashion industry, a trendy apartment, and an amazing wardrobe. Yes, it is ridiculously fake but the illusion is entertaining.

Well, something from the show actually landed with some weight a few weeks ago. It was a rerun, of course, and probably scripted but when Diane von Furstenburg approached Whitney amidst their busy fashion week party I felt like her message was meant for me.
"The most important relationship you have in your life is the relationship you have with yourself. Because no matter what happens you will always be with yourself."

The circumstances of my life and Whitney's are completely different. Not even comparable. But when a woman as accomplished and intelligent as Diane says something like that it echoes. This is what it meant to me:

It is important for an au pair to have a good relationship with the children and the family but it is just as important to have a great relationship with oneself throughout the entire experience. Otherwise it wouldn't be an experience at all. It would just be something that happened. Just some months in another country.

It also came into mind again when I noticed a few people's reactions after I told them about my short travels so far. They asked with whom I saw these cities. "Why, with myself of course." Whenever people learn that I went alone they seem surprised. For some reason or another doing things by yourself has a negative connotation. Like you're alone because you're a loser. Or if you're alone then you're surely depressed. Then a friend of mine posted the following video. So, this is my reply to those who seem taken aback when they learn all the things I've done with no one but me.
"Perhaps in the interest of loving oneself, perhaps all those sappy slogans from preschool over to high school's groaning were tokens for holding the lonely at bay. Cuz if you're happy in your head than solitude is blessed and alone is okay."



Sometimes I feel like I'm loosing my mind because I still miss home so much. Or because I'm not really sure where home is now that I've graduated from Gustavus. So, I have to keep reminding myself about the saying "home is where the heart is." Because it is true. I love many people and many places but my heart is right here with me. In me. Beating in my chest. As long as I can feel it there, safe behind my ribs, then I am home no matter how far I am from those I love. Because I love myself. Because I am my own best friend.

Adventure in Amsterdam - 08.21.2010

The Royal Palace/Koninklijk Paleis Amsterdam
Originally it served as a town hall but Louis Napoleon turned it into a royal residence. It is now one of four in the Netherlands used by the Dutch Queen Beatrix. It is currently open to the public and the main exhibit is about Dutch Classicism - a style of architecture formed in the 17th century based on the designs and theories of the Italian architects Andrea Palladio and Vincenzo Scamozzi.

Scamozzi wrote a manual, L'Idea della Architettura Universale, on the proportions and forms of classical architecture and how they might be adapted in more contemporary terms. In 1640 it was translated into Dutch. Since most Dutch architects had never travelled to Italy to see the ancient buildings that best personify classical architecture, they relied on books to gain the knowledge essential to creating their designs.



Constantijn Huygens, a Dutch diplomat, was largely responsible for the rise of Dutch classicism. He had visited Italy and England many times and had therefore seen the ancient buildings and met architects who were already adapting classical elements. He promoted Scamozzian classicism in the Netherlands until it was officially adopted by the court and in turn became the standard for all other prestigious civic buildings. The Royal Palace is "the most eloquent expression of [Scamozzi's] ideal of harmony."

I found it to be particularly harmonious indeed. The exterior is being restored and hidden behind scaffolding. Inside only one floor was open for public viewing but it consisted of a dozen or so rooms with various functions. All these rooms surrounded a large center atrium with marble floors and walls, full of natural light, and sculptures of figures from Greek mythology. The decor was elegant but not over done. And I greatly appreciated the classical elements throughout.










Please note the SPQA at the top.

Most of the rooms were decorated with warm hues and this blue room was my favorite.





Sail Amsterdam
Every five years since 1975 tall ships from all over the world come to Amsterdam's eastern harbor for a few days of tours, fireworks, and maritime mayhem. On Thursday of last week my host mom mentioned that while at work she was able to see the tall ships coming into the city for the event. I often check the internet to see what sort of events are going on in Amsterdam each weekend and I had in mind that I would at least see the ships so I could tell my dad, a boating man at heart. I only walked a quarter of the loop until I found a nice open spot to sit and watch the large ships with masts and sails as well as the canal boats full of people, beer cans in hand and sunglasses pushed back. It was nice to being sitting still amongst so much movement. I'm a water girl at heart. I love being near bodies of water so it was a perfect ending to another lovely day in Amsterdam.

Adventure in Amsterdam - 08.14.2010

I have not been to Amsterdam nearly enough to know all the secrets. All the streets. All the history. But I have a very strong attraction to the city. After this past Saturday I realized something. I think I am in love again.

"Love makes you see a place differently, just as you hold differently an object that belongs to someone you love. If you know one landscape well, you will look at all other landscapes differently. And if you learn to love one place, sometimes you can also learn to love another." - Fugitive Pieces by Anne Michaels

During the week all I can think about is when I get to see Amsterdam again. At first sight, every time, it makes my heart beat go silly. I walk out from Centraal Station and it is waiting there for me. It is always waiting for me. Even if I don't have anything planned for my time in Amsterdam just being there is enough. And when I leave I can still feel it on my skin. Yes, I think I have fallen in love.

On Saturday I didn't waste any time after I got out of bed. I skipped breakfast, got dressed, and packed a bag. I filled my water bottle and took a banana to eat on the train. The children waved to me from the back patio as I biked away. Since it was raining the weekend before I went straight to the Waterloo Plein flea market. And when I say I went straight there that actually means my route was direct but I took a few side stops to shop along the way.

I love flea markets. I've only been to one in the States. Years ago while visiting my cousin in NYC. In Italy I always went to the monthly flea market in Fiesole and bought some very interesting items there. Scarves and handbags that once belonged to some old Italian lady. A silver jewelry box as a gift for my godmother's wedding. A few old lire. There was an annual vintage fair in Florence but you had to pay to get in so I only went once. There I bought a red leather Cartier wallet that had a special flap for a passport. All special purchases that have the genuine feel of Italy on them even after changing ownership. So, I was excited about what I would find in Amsterdam.





Vintage mini liquor bottles. I bought four in different colors and a small jar. Old postcards. I only bought ones from the places I've actually been. I spoiled myself with three from Florence. It was nice to be reminded of my greatest love, Italy.

I had lunch alone outside some Asian place on Damstraat. It was a very busy day in the city but I still managed a leisurely stroll from block to block. Back in Dam Square I found some sort of Hare Krishna gathering. Food, music, and a diverse crowd. It was nice to be reminded of my first love, India.




I enjoyed some street music until the Hare Krishnas kicked them out of the square but the timing was perfect because the British au pair I met last weekend called and invited me to meet up with a group of au pairs in Vondelpark with her. I could have taken the tram because it is rather far but I chose to walk. When you're in love you like to take your time. Enjoy every moment. Savor the scenery.



The grass near the Flower Monument was packed full of people picnicking, dancing, playing with their dogs, sleeping, and conversing. It took us awhile to find the other au pairs but they had a good set up near the pond with blankets, wine, cookies, and cheese. About half the girls were from the US and half from Australia. Then one girl from Finland and one from Poland. Past the introductions the conversations all moved along with laughter and sarcasm and stories concerning adorably annoying Dutch children. So, my last two hours in Amsterdam were spent this way. Full of laughter, love, and all that other mushy stuff. I laughed my way into a romance with Amsterdam.

Adventure in Amsterdam - 08.07.2010

I have an intense love/hate relationship with Facebook. I've been using it frequently here in the Netherlands to stay in touch with those who don't have Skype. But it can get frustrating because it so impersonal. And all the information people can access about me is terrifying, even with privacy settings on high. Well, I have learned to ignore the negatives and appreciate the positives. One of which is the "social networking" aspect. Thanks to Facebook I was able to connect with another English speaking au pair in Amsterdam. I met her in the city on Saturday and I must say, it was so nice to actually be in the company of someone my age and in my "line of work".

She is from the UK so she isn't as far from home but we shared stories about watching the children and compared things we've noticed so far about Dutch culture. Then we went out into the rain, walked through the flea market at Waterloo Plein, and then stopped on the bridge by Rembranthuis to watch the Gay Pride parade moving slowly down the canal. Despite the weather there was a fair number of people out and those on the boats didn't seem to mind the wet too much. Most of them played loud music and danced with very few clothes on, probably chilled to the bone but clearly having a blast regardless.




Even though it was still early in the evening and we weren't particularly hungry we walked toward the city center to find a place to eat. Mostly we just wanted to get out of the rain. On one of the smaller streets just east of Rokin we found ourselves stuck in the midst of some Gay Pride street parties. No one likes being pushed between strangers, having their toes stepped on, and getting elbowed in the back but this is the one exception because everyone was happy and dancing and laughing. Clearly it was all about celebrating the love. I really like that a place can be so open and accepting as that. I really like Amsterdam.

Love long distance

The goal of this blog is to chronicle my experiences while in the Netherlands. The good, the bad, and the ridiculously embarrassing. What I am about to share with you is rather silly but it is a pretty significant part of my life here: staying connected with my friends and family. Especially the latter. It is very important for me to stay in touch with the special people in my life, even though my life has changed so much. Thanks to Skype I can talk and see them pretty frequently even though we are hundreds and hundred of miles away from each other.

Whether I'm watching while my twelve-year-old brother plays video games or listening to my mother ramble on about what she read in People magazine about The Real Housewives of New York City, it is so nice to spend time "together." Sometimes they like to tease me by enjoying a pan full of brownies between stories about their day. Holding each piece in front of the webcam just long enough to make my mouth water before they devour it. Sometimes they like to be sneaky and take screenshots of me making weird faces unknowingly and then send them to me unexpectedly.


Mother and said 12 year-old brother, Owen.

A French exchange student, Paul, has been staying with my family for the summer. In my room. I must admit it is a little weird and hard not to feel like he's filling up the space I left behind, especially since they're doing all sorts of fun things with him. Things that I've always wanted to do whenever I was home for the summer or holiday breaks. And then they took him to Harry Potter World and I contemplated giving them the silent treatment to convey how betrayed I felt. And then I noticed how perfect the whole situation actually is. Here I am living with another family in Holland. I was home barely two weeks after graduation and then I jetted off across the ocean. And there Paul is living with my family in America. It is great for my brothers to have another guy to hang out with instead of a sister who still thinks making them tag along to shop at Target is fun. And I'm sure he's a much better video game player than me.


The sign they held when they picked him up at the airport.

It is funny how things work out. Life is strange. And my family is really, really great. Excuse me for being overly sentimental but if it weren't for them I'd never have the courage and the drive to do something like live in another country. All that stuff about doing what makes you happy and following your dreams is something I totally believe in thanks to them. Especially my parents. Sorry, mom and dad, that it took me twenty-two years to figure that out.

Two Days in Brussels - 07.31.2010 & 08.01.2010

I'm trying something different this time. Instead of writing out my adventure as it went, from one moment to the next, I've organized my trip according to the places and tastes I enjoyed. No matter which format I use, it is impossible to tell you everything. So, forget about whatever you did this weekend and imagine me in Brussels. Allons-y!

Musée du Costume et de la Dentelle (Costume and Lace Museum)
This was at the top of my list of planned destinations during my weekend away. According to the internet it boasts a collection of clothing pieces from the 16th to the 19th centuries, but it does not have an official website so I really had no idea what would be on display until I arrived at the front desk: The Sixties. Although it is a small museum and only 3€ for entrance, I thought the exhibit to be very well designed and the free catalog a very handy guide while pacing between Dior, Givenchy, Yves Saint Laurent, Lanvin, Balmain, and many others. The two fashion/costume history classes I've taken were organized by century or decade, so it was easy for me to mentally situate myself before walking down the carpeted corridor leading to the first floor of display cases.

After the austere silhouettes and fabrics women wore during WWII, Christian Dior brought fashion into a new era during the 1950's with his "New Look." These garments used luxurious amounts of fabric for the mid-calf length skirts whose shape emphasized women's hips, while the fitted tops and jackets cinched the waist and broadened the shoulders. Women became impeccable, glamourous, pearl-wearing, glove-fingered images of perfection. Not a single hair was ever out of place. Not a fingernail with chipped polish. No wrist ever went without perfume. Then, as the introduction to the exhibit declares, "during the Sixties, women turned away from pencil skirts, tightly constricted waists, girdles and suspenders. Some of them even burned their bras in public. They won the right to wear trousers at any time of the day and in any circumstances, giving them the freedom to uncross their legs, take long strides, or sprawl back in comfortable sofas without worrying about it, as well as the right to show their knees and thighs, clad in multicolored tights, items of clothing which until then had been reserved for winter sports. This upsurge of freedom in clothing is perhaps the most immediately visible expression of a deep and irreversible movement in the evolution of the feminine condition in our western society."

Rue de la Violette 12
Expectedly, pictures were forbidden but I scribbled notes about my favorite pieces in the margins of the catalog, which also conveniently includes a short paragraph describing each garment and lists it's designer or creator.

On the top floor, in a low lit corner without windows, is the portion of the museum dedicated to the history of Belgian lace. I spent just as much time here, pulling out each display drawer and examining the sample lace spread neatly beneath a pane of protective glass, as I did observing the three floors of clothing and accessories.

Grand Place
This is the heart of Brussels and a must-see for anyone visiting the city. It is a square surrounded by a series of historically important buildings. The City Hall was built during the first half of the fifteenth century and is guarded by a statue of Saint Micheal slaying a dragon at the top of the tower. Directly across from the seat of municipal power is the Maison du Roi, built by the Duke of Brabant one hundreed years after the City Hall. On the other sides of the square the most powerful guilds of Brussels established their headquarters in lines now collectively called the Guild Houses. The large space in between was used as a market place until 1959. Naturally, it was full of tourists no matter what time of day I walked through. At night the atmosphere was more genuine as everyone was charged with energy, waiting around for the lights to turn on. Some people sat on blankets while others (like me) perched on the front ledge of the Maison du Roi smoking cigarettes or (like me) devouring Belgian waffles soft with chocolate sauce.

A parade in Grand Place.


Grand Place at night.

Maison du Roi.

Guild Houses

City Hall

Manneken Pis
After Grand Place, this little fountain is Brussel's next iconic site. The name probably gives it away and any assumption you have was probably right. It is a small fountain with a statue of a little peeing boy. It was put into place around 1618 and now on certain days of the year petit Julien, as he is called in French, is dressed in various costumes according to certain holidays or cultural events. I'm sure up close he is adorable but it is hard to want to look at him very long since he very openly doing his business right in your direction.



There are a handful of legends surrounding the historical significance of the boy. The most exciting is that as foreign invaders prepared to enter Brussels and besiege it, a little boy was spying on them from the bushes on the outskirts of the city. As soon as he saw them light the fuse for the opening attack he ran up and peed on it to put it out, thus saving Brussels from destruction. The more sentimental story is that a wealthy merchant let his son go missing. Once he realized the result of his carelessness he sent out troops of men to scour the city for his beloved heir. The young boy was found safe and sound, peeing happily in a small garden.

Galeries de Saint-Hubert
Just north of Grand Place is a glass covered shopping gallery of luxury shops. I only walked down the long, chilly corridor twice which was enough for me. The window displays were too enticing and the price tags too steep.

There is a craft market outside and a touch east of the Galeries. I made my way from stand to stand in the hope of finding something to buy and take back home for my mom and godmother but instead I bought something for myself. There was an old man and his slightly-younger-than-middle-age son selling perfume. I really only intended to smell one or two then move on but the owner (which is the son - his dad just helps out) was so nice and undemanding that I let myself linger. It was refreshing to meet a salesman who was not intent on striking a deal with me by trying to convince me to buy whatever ridiculously over-priced items he so persuasively shoves in anyone's face. The perfumer simply explained how he puts together scents, the differences between an eu de toilette and a perfume, and the oil-alcohol ratio of his recipe. He had a diagram of his 100 blends which listed each scent's primary components. I like lily and sandalwood so I looked up which perfumes had those in the mix and then chose one from there. I walked away with 10€ less in my purse but a charming heart shaped bottle of perfume from Brussels. I'll just have to find something for my dear mother and godmother in some other city.

Musées royaux d'art et d'histoire (Museum of Art and History)
After checking out of my hotel on Sunday, I hopped on the metro in the direction of Parc du Cinquetenaire. It is only a handful of stops away from Grand Place but my feet were far too sore for me to even consider walking. I strolled through the entire park before noon, then turned back to find the entrance to the museum. I wasn't as excited as I was for the costume museum but when I turned the corner to the open front doors my breath caught in my throat. All because of one word: MEDICI.

In case you didn't know, I have a great love for the Italian Renaissance. Specifically in Florence. And specifically concerning the Medici family. The museum was hosting a temporary exhibit created by the artist Isabelle de Borchgrave who creates clothing out of paper. Her latest venture was a recreation of some of the garments the most famous members of the Medici family wore. Botticelli's Minerva and Primavera figures were a bonus. Again, pictures were forbidden but this video from the exhibit's website provides a fair visual.

Isabelle de Borchgrave @ Palazzo Medici Riccardi / Firenze from Artenews on Vimeo.

Just like the time in Amsterdam when I wandered into a museum with an exhibit about ancient Roman sea ports, I felt fated to find the Medici in Brussels the same time as me. I've been thinking a lot lately about going back to Florence. But I think it would break my heart again to have to leave it again. So for a little less than an hour, with Isabelle's crafted gowns around me, I let myself pretend I was back there again.

After saying goodbye to my beloved Lorenzo I shuffled up, down, and around the museum's other wings. The guide at the front of the museum who greeted me explained everything in French. He must have mistaken me for a French woman, which was perfectly fine with me. But even though I made shortly sweet replies of "oui", "bonne", and "Je comprends," I really didn't understand much of what he was telling me. I couldn't find the ancient Greek and Roman artifacts. I think it was closed because all the stairs to the third floor were roped off. I got lost in the European decorative arts section. (Going in circles gets old after the second lap.) And then I crossed through the museum shop to the Non-European area knowing I wouldn't be able to last much longer without food. It was probably a good thing though that I saw all the South American shrunken heads and their terrifying statues on an empty stomach. By the time I had finally moved through India and China I decided to skip North America and Canada. It was time for the sunshine again. And food.







Beer, Chocolate, and Other Delicacies
Usually when I'm traveling alone I avoid eating at sit-down restaurants. But in Brussels I felt better about sitting down by myself and enjoying a meal. For an early dinner on Saturday I had a green salad, quatro fromaggio penne, and a few glasses of table wine for less than 20€ at an Italian place on a street near Saint-Hubert. Then a slice of New York style pizza in Grand Place later that night after tasting some beer, which is one of Belgium's specialties. Lindeman's blueberry was my favorite.


De Bier Tempel - only a block above Grand Place with beers half the price of the other shops.

My first purchase in the city, not even an hour after checking into my hotel, was some chocolate: a 250 grams sample box, a bar of white, and a package of individually wrapped mini-bars. I devoured the box in my hotel room Saturday evening while resting up before setting out again to see the lights of Grand Place.

On Sunday, after the history museum, I sat down for some steak frites, a popular Belgian dish. Just in case you didn't already know, french fries actually originated from Belgium. The ones I tried were something like ten times the size and thickness of fries in the States. And they actually tasted like they were made from potatoes. Sauce cost extra.

Traveling by Train
I love trains, train stations, and riding trains. There is something about it that still feels somewhat old fashioned. Even though it takes longer than flying and can sometimes be more expensive depending on the circumstances I think it is one of the best ways to get somewhere. To make my train out of Amsterdam on time I had to be up and out the door by 6:30am to ride my bike to Purmerend and take the 7:10 train to the city.

The platform was already overflowing with people when I arrived about 20 minutes prior to departure time. It was a free for all for seats and I'm glad I only had a purse and an overnight bag because the people with larger luggage had to haul themselves up and into the train last. So while I was already snuggled into a window seat they were still struggling to get up off the platform.

The train back was a whole other story. It was an older train with, as you can see in the picture below, outdated interior and a strange musty smell. It was not as crowded as the other train - I had to share a car with four other people at most. Only one of which actually rode all the way to Amsterdam like me and didn't get off on any of the stops in between. And then by the time I got to Amsterdam Centraal I still had to take another train to Zandaam and exchange there for Purmerend. All of this wore me down even more than I was already, so by the time I got onto my bike I was peddling like a cripple all the way back to the house.