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Although I was tempted to take the tram because of the cold I decided to spend my day walking instead. It ended up being a good decision because it was the best day I've spent in Amsterdam. Lately, I've been very conscious, once again, about memory. All these new memories I've made seem to bring old memories with them. "I saw this and it reminded me of you..." is a phrase I've used often here. I've also started going back and reading my previous blog entries. This part astounded me: "It is funny sometimes how things tend to come full circle....Now you can see how all these memories of mine are connected in their own strange way. Or in my mind, at least. I'm going to keep making lists and I'm going to keep remembering. In less than a week, after I step onto that plane destined for Amsterdam, I'll have new memories to share with you. I hope you're ready." So, I've been sharing all sorts of experiences with you but everyone has baggage. I try my best to live in the present moment and not dwell on the past or think too much about the future. But every place I've been and every person I've met is part of me. I carry it all with me. So, I hope you don't mind the times I have (and will) share old memories alongside new ones. Everything is connected, you know.
Walking towards Amstel and Waterlooplein
I knew it was one of my last times in the city, so I made it a point to notice all sorts of charming details. That made it hard for me to get through the flea market at Waterloo without buying a few things. I made away with some excellent purchases but I can't tell you about them because they're Christmas-sensitive items.
Alexander the Great at The Hermitage
I'd seen posters for this exhibit at the train station in Purmerend a few weeks ago and since then I'd been aching to go. Partly because I hadn't been to the Hermitage yet but mostly because I love Alexander. It was the best Classics centered exhibit I have ever seen. It was very well organized and provided a portrait of Alexander from his lifetime and beyond. Cameras were not allowed inside and I forgot to bring in my little notebook to record facts, realizations, and favorites. At first, without my usual pen and paper, I felt so naked but I enjoyed moving from artifact to artifact without stopping. Everything in the exhibit belongs to The Hermitage's permanent collection in St. Petersburg. It was structured thus: introduction/cultural context, areas conquered, legacy, portrait, and influence on European monarchies (specifically Russia's Catherine the Great.)
"This episode from the history of Alexander the Great comes from Plutarch. During a siege of a fortress in Bactria, the eastern part of the Persian state of Darius III, Roxane - daughter of a Bactrian satrap or nobleman - was captured. In an effort to gain the support of the Persian aristocracy, Alexander married her. Rotari here shows Alexander's meeting with Roxane, who is surrounded by weeping slaves and stands modestly before the amazed military commander."Image and Caption Source
It opened with this painting by Pietro Rotari (Italy, 1756). From this moment onward I was full of passion. It may sound silly but tears began to pull behind my eyes because I suddenly felt so much. I always tend to become rather tender in the face of art and history, but even more so when it comes to certain eras or figures. Alexander, of course is one. I felt the sweet weight of memory. I remembered learning about him for the first time in elementary school and proposing that when Owen was born his middle name be that of the great Macedonian. Then I remembered the Greek History class at Gustavus in the fall of my sophomore year. Reading about him. Writing about him. Discussing his cultural influence and his legacy. Study sessions with some of my favorite friends. Honestly, it was one of the best classes I ever took. Mostly because of the ladies in it with me but also because of it being about Ancient Greece.
Study guide timeline - Democracy (?)
It was like I was visiting an old friend for the afternoon. If you don't know much about Alexander and are interested in learning more or exploring the exhibit digitally, the exhibit's website is very informative. Read an introduction here and check out the highlights here. For me, the highlights included: engraving's of Charles Le Brun's paintings of Alexander's life for King Louis XIV's palace, a wood relief based on Le Brun for Catherine the Great's lover, Italian armor from the 16th century depicting the Greek heroes Alexander admired, Scythian burial artifacts, Indian busts of Buddha depicting the influence of the Greek "wet look," Russian cameos of the Trojan heroes commissioned by Catherine the Great. I was very pleased that the cameo collection also included woman such as Iphigenia and Cassandra.
Many European monarchs tried to emulate Alexander. Catherine the Great had an instruction book created for her grandsons, Constantine and Alexander, based on events from Alexander the Great's life. I found it most interesting that even in Venice, a staunch republic, Alexander was revered not for his kingly greatness but for his humanity and good deeds. No matter how history represents him there is no denying that he should be counted as one of the most important figures of the Western world. Perhaps even the greatest.
Music in Dam Square
One of my favorite aspects of my European travels is the street music. Every city I've been to has musicians playing in public, guitar cases open for coins. Dam Square almost always has someone playing on the weekends. One night, while passing through with friends, I heard James O'Reilly singing. The weekend Caitlynn was here we listened to Giovanni Bassano and his guitar for a bit. I was impressed both times and then on this particular adventure into Amsterdam I was lucky enough to catch them together. Giovanni on guitar and James singing. You can easily guess what their home countries are and that I'm more than a little bit in love with them both. Both countries and both musicians, that is. They played in the afternoon and again later in the evening. I stood in the crowd both times taking pictures and video. A little boy was in complete awe and refused to be part of the audience. He wanted to stand close and no matter how many times his mom called him over or his father tried to guide him back to his buggy, he wouldn't budge. I bought James' CD and have been swooning every time I've listened to it this week.
When traveling it is always best to not have any expectations. Expectations risk disappointment and they close your mind to the full experience. There were a few places I was interested in seeing when Siv and Suzanne took me via train from Västerås to Stockholm, but I was more excited simply to just be there. Since I had no real expectations I enjoyed every moment, even when we were walking down seemingly unremarkable streets. And after the first few hours on the first day of two I think I had already decided that Stockholm is my new favorite European city, despite the fact that my heart is still so full of Florence that there are always echoes from Italy no matter how far north I go.
Traveling requires patience and preparation. I packed my suitcase the day before and I made sure I had my passport, iPod, and a warm scarf. But of course, plans including airports and airplanes rarely go smoothly. To save money I booked two flights: EasyJet from Amsterdam to London and Ryanair from London to Västerås. To fly direct from Amsterdam was too expensive.
I had to wake up around 6:30am to get dressed and get to Purmerend for the 7am train. It took about fifty minutes to get to the airport but at least I didn't have to take any transfers. I bought some breakfast first thing then discovered that my first flight was delayed by 45 minutes. All I could do was wait and try not to bite my nails about possibly missing the flight out from London. EasyJet and Ryanair are discount airlines or "busses with wings" which means there are no seat assignments and everyone lines up then rushes to board for best choice of seats. So I waited for the gate number to be posted. Then I waited in line for security. Then I waited in a tense line at the gate, everyone eager to get on ahead of the people around them.
At London Stanstead it is a maze of escalators and busy corridors to get from one of the terminal to another. And then a tram to get to the central building where one has to go through Border Control and security again even if they are taking a connecting flight. And then another tram to get to the next terminal. With all the lines and stress of getting where I needed to be on time I completely passed out on the plane to Sweden. When we landed, unloaded, and lined up to have our passports checked I felt like I was dreaming. I couldn't believe I was in Sweden. Even after Suzanne and Siv welcomed me with warm hugs in the lobby I still couldn't grasp the fact that I was in Sweden.
As we drove back to Suzanne's apartment the first thing I noticed were the trees. Tall, thick, masses of trees. The Holland that I know is flat, green pastures. Moist air, misty mornings, and canal. In Sweden the crisp air, the trees, and their leaves' faint prelude to fall immediately reminded me of Minnesota. That is when I felt safe even though I still felt like I was dreaming. That feeling of comfort and love never faded or faltered once during my stay.
Västerås Kulturnatt (Culture Night)
Fortunately, my first night in Sweden lined up perfectly with Västerås' annual culture night. Various events and activities were hosted throughout the city by all sorts of businesses, galleries, museums, and what not. It was the perfect introduction for me because we spent the night walking around the city from one place to the next.
Suzanne and I began with a local vocalist's recital of Edith Piaf songs since Edith is a favorite of mine. "Je Ne Regrette Rien" echoed in my head from then on. As we walked towards our next point of interest we stopped at Formgruppen which is a local craftsmen's shop that sells wool, ceramic, and wood creations.
Then we continued on to the new Karlsgatan which had just opened the previous weekend. We listened to Torbjörn Grass play a twelve string guitar and harp guitar. Then we wandered the gallery. I found a painting by Elsa Backlund-Celsing that I'd love to share with you but I didn't take a picture and I can't find one on the internet.
We met Siv at the Konserthusset and attempted to watch some couples doing the tango but the crowd was too large. So, we packed ourselves in line for the dance school's recital in the large auditorium. From there we marched arm in arm to listen to the Maria Choir in the warm, candlelit Domkyrka.
My first night in Sweden ended with a bang. The closing of culture night was celebrated with fire dancers in front of the town hall and fireworks from the bell tower.
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.
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.
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.
