There are few cities in the world that completely live up to everything you expect them to be; Amsterdam is absolutely one of those. Narrow twisting streets and vast wide canals and towering old buildings that seem to brush up against the sky. Something different and eye opening around every corner; and you can’t be offended by any of it because that’s just the way life is here, the way it has been for hundreds of years, quite possibly the freest most liberal city in the world.
That liberality brought with it only one downside: I’m allergic to it. Not to liberality! Far from it! Just to the special ingredient in the local brownies! Because Amsterdam is one of the first cities where cannibas was legalized, it’s everywhere, with no more notice or importance than someone lighting up a cigarette. Nothing clandestine or “cool” about it, it just is. But for me, I did end up doing a lot of “kitty cat” sneezing to try and clear my sinuses (otherwise I start coughing rather badly), Amras thought it was adorable. Don’t get me wrong, I have nothing against those who do indulge, I’m all for it being legal everywhere, it just makes me sneeze and gives me a terrible headache so I keep my distance.
But that one small issue aside, there is so much to Amsterdam. A city hasn’t caught me as strongly as this since London; I never thought that would happen again. Not even in Europe.
With only twenty-four hours before our plane left in the morning, it was a question of what to see first! Anne Frank’s house? The Red Light District (nothing like a little window shopping)? The Amsterdam Dungeon? Rembrandt Square? The Ice Bar? Ripley’s Believe it or Not? So many awesome things! So little time!
In fairness, we did have a plan. Sort of. And we did stick to it. Sort of.
We did wander through the Red Light District first, though during the day the majority of the windows were dark and unoccupied. Some of the actual shop windows were interesting eough to take note of (let’s just say they do things without shame in Amsterdam), but pictures of the “real” windows are considered disrespectful and are strictly prohibited. The entire area is monitored to prevent that kind of thing and there are ‘no photography’ notices all over the district.
Leaving the red glow behind us for the time being, we made our way to the nearest “tours and tickets” shop (they’re everywhere) to pick up tickets for the Red Light Secrets museum exhibit we wanted to visit later – ad then started ambling in the general direction of Rembrandt Square.
We stopped at another ticket center along the way to ask directions, which was fortunate because it meant I could take a look at the other attractions on offer.
Excuse me – how much is the Ice Bar?
15 euro if you go before 5
And you need reservations?
Yes, but you get those through me.
Two please
So we pocketed two tickets to Holland’s only ice bar.
But first we still wanted to go to Rembrandt Square. Crowded, but not so much that we couldn’t get the pictures we wanted. Also the square was full of street artists – buskers, people painting custom caps, and portrait artists. Perched outside once such stall was a guitar with a sign on it.
Play me a (whole) song on the guitar and I will make you a free caricature
Hmm…interesting.
So we wandered around a bit more and came back when there wasn’t a crowd. Unfortunately the guitar had a broken string, but never the less, Amras still walked away with a pretty awesome free caricature.
We still had some time to kill before our reservation at the Ice Bar, so we wandered through the huge street market just across the bridge. Everything you could want from incense to jewellery, and no reason whatsoever to buy it except that it was there! But it was fun to look.
Eventually the time rolled around for our reservation at the Ice Bar. The coolest place in Amsterdam – literally. Inside the ‘regular’ portion of the bar is dim and fairly normal, not all that impressive – but every twenty minutes or so the bartender would clang the giant ships bell that hung at the end of the bar.
All attention for your Captain!
Which was the cue for the video introduction that told us of our “upcoming journey through the arctic”
When I ask you a question, I want to hear ‘Aye Captain” So I’ve got just one question left for you” ARE YOU READY TO JOIN MY SHIP?
AYE CAPTAIN!
And then it was into -9 degrees and glasses made of ice.
One more big check on my bucket list.
From the Ice Bar we went back to the red light district. More specifically to the Red Light Secrets Museum, which is a tiny little winding building housed in the heart of the famous area. It’s one of the few places in the district where photography is allowed, but I didn’t snap a lot of pictures because it was small and crowded, and I was more interested in reading the plaques on the walls. As we worked our way through I was struck by an odd sense of…sympathy perhaps? I would say I felt sorry for the girls, but that would indicate that I somehow pitied them, which would mean I thought they were less than me, and that’s not the case – these are in a lot of cases very strong very independent individuals. No, it’s not pity…more…I can’t help but wonder how their careers must affect them when they aren’t in the window. It must be a very surreal existence.
Going from one extreme to the other there was one other place I knew – as soon as I remembered that it was in Amsterdam, because I always for some reason think of it as being in Berlin – we had to at least pay our respects to.
The trip to Anne Frank’s house was a whirlwind bike-taxi ride that was so fast we almost lost our hats (Amras did once, we had to go back for it), and because we hadn’t bought advance tickets, there was no way we were going to gain entry, but still…I had to go. I had to see it. I am honestly not sure if I ever fully read Anne’s diary, I remember starting it, and I know I’ve read the last few lines (or perhaps just seen them quoted) – but I don’t know whether I ever made it through the whole, symbolic, heartwrenching thing. There were so many after all, why her? Why is she so important? Because she is a symbol, and not just of the tragic time in which she lived, but of hope. Anne Frank is a symbol of humanity’s hope, and that deserves respect.
There is a statue of Anne just outside those house, there is one permanent sculpted rose rising from the paving stones at her feet, and there are dozens of flowers left there every day. She stands there, a girl trapped forever as she was, staring upwards, seeing something that we can’t. Perhaps seeing herself. I stood there for a long time just looking at her – and it wasn’t until Amras asked me what I was saying that I actually realized I was speaking
“I believe…despite everything…that people are still inherently good at heart” It’s what she said…in her diary. It’s what she said. Everything she lived through, and she still believed people were good…puts things in perspective doesn’t it? Makes everything we deal with now, seem…kind of small.
Perspective.
These days, no matter where in the world we are, I think we could all use a little more of it