Appreciating another Amsterdam ...

Spot the narrowest house in Amsterdam. Look up between the red and blue car.

The Central train station

This young man may not be really levitating

but he earned his substantial donations as he kept this pose for over an hour!

The show never stops

the "coffee shops" are full

there's something for everyone

the shoppers

and the serious folk

and the artists

and the boaties

and the cycists

and those who love to get up and walk around in the morning when there's no one around

and have the whole square almost to themeselves

Amsterdam is all you know about her...and more!

I wake up at 3am and lie there listening to the silence which is surprising given that I am right across the road from Central Station in Amsterdam, just a short walk from the Dam and red light district and I know that outside the streets are overflowing with people that seem to spew out from the train station and be carried by a wave of human energy straight into the sex, drugs and human connection and disconnection that is on offer.

But here I smell and see and hear none of it, not the sweet, cloying aroma of cannabis, mixed with the smell of fat chips lathered in ketchup and mayo, not the neon lights, or bars lined with patrons drinking beer and hoping to get lucky, nor the girls looking out at the parade of gawking or indifferent faces that stroll past their windows, nor the incessant chatter of people having fun. 

I lie in my silent room, in my clean, comfortable bed with soft pillows and flat screen TV with channels in 10 languages and I feel safe, wrapped up in my little warm cocoon.

I booked into the Park Plaza Victoria hotel, a grand old lady directly across from Central Station (www.parkplaza.com/amsterdam) after trying for two days to get a room in every 3 star and b and b in the city.

Although it is expensive, it was a good decision as it’s 2 minutes from the train station and a short walk to all the attractions. The staff is extremely professional and helpful and I can’t fault the room or the hotel services.

Earlier I had ventured out and started to explore the streets and canals of the old town, but soon I headed back partly because I was hungry and partly because I felt out of place, neither looking for anything, nor available, feeling slightly overwhelmed by the energy of the swelling crowds.

A bowl of fresh soup warms my body and spirit and I enjoy the view from the café and settle into a corner to read my guide and plan my stay. A guy dressed in black with lots of piercings and tattoos, long hair and greasy skin sits alongside me and orders in Dutch. He asks for extra bread and hardly stops to breathe as he devours a plate piled high with food with at least 3 runny eggs sitting on the top. 

I’m heading back to the hotel when I spot a curious crowd. A young man dressed in monks’ robes with a bandana masking his identity sits crossed legged IN THE AIR ….with one hand in prayer pose and one holding a thin staff that sits on a small mat about 3 feet below him. I catch my mind processing the amazing scene and wonder what the trick is. The crowd is growing. People stop to take photos, many with frowns or confused looks on their faces. Some curious children even pass their hand underneath him checking for what is keeping him suspended in the air. Later I found the answer on You Tube (look up “The secret to Yogi Levitation revealed”) Even though most of the crowd thinks it is a clever trick, nearly everyone stops to put money in his hat without even being asked. I am curious as to why.  It seems we more readily hand over money for a good trick, than when someone demonstrates great musical ability or physical strength or dexterity. I think the answer is in our mind’s wish to be entertained. Clearly, we are willing to pay for our curiosity to be piqued.

Day 2

It’s late for me to be walking but outside it is still quite dark. A few locals on their way to work and a street sweeper are my only company for a while.

I enjoy walking along the still quiet and empty streets; even the usually crowded Dam Square is still deserted. This time of the morning, the city is mine. Even the locals are too busy going to work to really notice her, to appreciate how beautiful she looks as she is waking up and being groomed, to inhale her fragrance and appreciate her fine lines and unique shape and energy. I walk past some market stalls being set up and something personal comes to mind, an old memory linked to another city bathed in early morning light. Curious I watch the emotion rise in my body, like a dark stain spreading out from my heart and reaching a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach.

I decide to tap, to acknowledge and release the feelings and memories that have come up, a long forgotten story, but a familiar theme. I hardly notice the people waiting for an early tour that must be wondering what I am doing muttering to myself and tapping on the side of my hand!

And I realise that I don’t care what they think and that makes me smile and I am grateful to be here, now, welcoming a brand new day.

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Breakfast at the Victoria Hotel is a civilised affair with a good selection of hot and cold dishes, English newspapers and decent coffee. I am looking forward to doing the free tour www.newamsterdamtours.com.

I glance up and a tall guy on his own at the next table has a plate piled high with pastries. When I look up again just a few minutes later he has eaten them all and I am so surprised I make a comment.

He is Norwegian, born in Amsterdam, now living in Norway but educated in Texas. I am so absorbed in the conversation that before I know it I have to check out and go on my tour, and when I get up to leave he seems disappointed and looks for his card to give me his details.

I am about to take out a pen and paper, and then I don’t. It’s kind of nice just savouring an enjoyable connection without wanting more.

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The crowd waiting to do the free tour is so big that we are split into 3 smaller groups of about 20. I hang out with Filippo (an Italian photographer http://filippo.falcinelli.net and engineer and his Czech girlfriend Michaela, a journalist while we are waiting. They live in Prague and when I tell them it’s my next stop they offer to show me their city. That’s what happens when you travel. Each stranger is potentially your next friend. 

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David our young tour guide is a well travelled Swede who has called Amsterdam home for a year. He is a good storyteller with a commanding presence and is passionate about wanting us to experience and know Amsterdam as more than the place for prostitutes and “coffee shops”. Three hours later we are convinced, having criss-crossed her streets and discovered some of her treasures and secrets.

Later, I stand in line for almost an hour, but I’m happy to wait to see the “secret annex” where Anne Frank and her family hid for 2 years and where she wrote her famous diary. As a teenager who loved writing and felt a lot of her own growing pains Anne’s story fascinated me, but it was the bigger themes, examples of human kindness, bravery and betrayal that really captured my attention. Walking up the extremely steep stairs behind the bookcase that hid the secret annex, reading Anne’s words on the walls and seeing the footage being played, I could really imagine the horror of living through that time in history and I am glad there are places like Anne Frank’s house that remind us of just how lucky some of us really are.

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So I spent a lot of money on a Eurail pass (10 days travel in 2 months) because I wanted a “train trip” experience and it seemed a good idea at the time. The helpful man at the Eurail office patiently costed out some trips I wanted to do and convinced me that it was good value for money. (I wanted to see Amsterdam, Berlin and Prague needed to get to Venice, Florence and Rome to pick up a small bag I left there and maybe go to Zurich) but now I am wondering if it was worth it.

The pass is for first class travel, BUT, here’s the catch for new players, if there is no seat available you have to you down to tourist class (not very comfortable for overnight or long distance travel AND you still have to pay reservation costs and extras for fast trains or sleepers, and you never know what seat you are going to get. So, here I am at 7.20pm travelling on the overnight train from Amsterdam to Berlin and I am on the top bunk of a 3 sleeper room in second class (not good if you have to get up to pee during the night like me, and the train is full so I can’t change seats. Oh well! It could always be worse.

Update and tip: I had to wait until the last major stop at about 11pm, but be nice to the conductor and talk about a non specific medical condition that makes you visit the bathroom regularly and you might end up getting a cabin to yourself like I did! It was only a few hours, and I didn’t really sleep, but it was bliss lying down and not having to share with anyone!