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A Thanksgiving Trip (Part 2)

Visiting Daughter and Sharing London and Amsterdam

By: - Dec 01, 2007

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It was Friday morning. The alarm went off at 5:45 AM. I packed, shaved, brushed my teeth and took a shower. I had called Evan at 5:50 to make sure that she was up. Our plane was to leave at 9:15 from Luton Airport. We needed to be there by 8:30 to check in. We needed to go to the King's Cross Railway Station and catch the express train. King's Cross Station was only a few blocks from my hotel. Evan arrived at the hotel ay 7:10. Breakfast was served starting at 7:30. But, no staff was there until 8 AM !!!. Because I had gotten back after 12, there was no one at the hotel to check me out or to store my luggage until I returned on Monday from Amsterdam.

Evan and I sat around waiting until 7:40 when the hotel manager arrived. We walked rapidly to the train station. The train took awhile to arrive. We tried not to look at our watches. Luton is somewhat north of London. The train finally arrived. The ride was fairly quick, but probably not quick enough. Shuttle buses took us from the train to the airport. We ran to the check-in. It was 8:51. The staff tried calling the plane. The plane would not answer. We were forced to wait until 3 PM to take the next flight at an additional fee. We missed the earlier plane by about 10 minutes. It was nobody's fault but it was mine. I should have made better provisions the day before. A sweet breakfast made Evan less irritable.

Finally about 1:30, we checked in for our flight and discovered that the top floor at the airport was much nicer and more interesting than the bottom floor. There were real restaurants rather than fast food counters and duty free-shops. We had a nice Italian lunch. A very helpful but talkative Slovakian waitress who was studying in London served us. The plane took off a little late due to some training issues. It was crowded.

Though the flight took only about 40 minutes, we arrived in Amsterdam in the dark. Evan and I figured out that we could take an inexpensive train into the central city. We arrived at the central station and discovered everyone spoke rather excellent English and were generally helpful. We were wisely advised to buy a multiple ride tram ticket for 6.50 euros. We then rode to a stop that we thought was nearest to our hotel. Even in the dark, we were totally charmed by the City of Amsterdam. The downtown was impressive with its large Victorian buildings. The canals even at night were charming.

We got off the tram and started walking down the canal street where our boutique hotel was located. Even though we were several blocks away and it was dark, we both loved the architecture and facades of the buildings bordering the canal. We could make out the silhouettes of houseboats moored there as well. After checking into The Hampshire Hotel (Evan had found it on the internet), we asked the person at the desk to suggest a good but not expensive Indonesian Restaurant. Indonesia, the former Dutch East Indies, had a strong colonial connection to the Netherlands. He handed me a business card with the restaurant's name on the front and told us how to get there. We walked along the canal for a couple of short blocks and turned on to a very nice small commercial street.

The street had a number of shops and restaurants. Some were quite elegant looking. We eventually found the recommended Indonesian Restaurant in Rembrandt Square, but though I had asked for a not too expensive place, the prices were outrageous. We walked up the little street that we had just come from and found a charming small Indonesian and Tibetan restaurant that was quite crowded. This was a very good sign. The prices were about half of the other one. It smelled great as soon as we walked in-another very good sign. Evan and I waited for about 5 minutes and were seated. 

Soon after, an interesting couple was seated next to us. He was a fortish European man, and she was a similarly aged Asian woman. After some pleasantries, I asked them where they were from. He said that he had grown up in Amsterdam, but had lived, gone to school and worked in the US. He had also worked in London, and he owned a 500 year old farmhouse in France. His friend asked me where I thought that she was from. I had no idea. She said that she was from Kazakhstan. I said that I would never have guessed it. They were both investment bankers.

Evan ordered a Tibetan dish and I ordered an Indonesian dish. They were both delicious. The cross tables conversation was delightful. Our first evening in Amsterdam was very successful. We learned the next day at breakfast that the street of our restaurant was a residential street that few tourists went on. It was a special shopping street for locals, exactly the kind of place that I have looked for each time I had traveled.

Saturday morning started with a very good breakfast. Evan especially loved the chocolate spread for the croissants. We then walked to a furniture store that we had seen the night before. All of the furniture were contemporary or modern classics. It was interesting to note that with the highly valued Euro that all of the prices were substantially more than what similar pieces would cost in the US. Visiting the shop was like visiting a over stuffed modern furniture exhibit. Our path then led to cheese shops, butchers, bakeries and salad shops. We then walked toward the museum district.

Our first cultural institution visit was to be to The Rijksmuseum. The Rijksmuseum is the largest museum in the Netherlands, with more than a million visitors each year. The Rijksmuseum is an impressive Amsterdam landmark and possesses an unrivalled collection of Dutch art, from early religious works to the masterpieces of the Golden Age. Several Rembrandts including the huge "Night Watch" and four Vermeers are included in the collection. Under renovation, enough of the permanent collection was on view that we both felt very satisfied by the experience.

Across a park was the Van Gogh Museum. We went there next. This museum houses some 200 paintings and 550 sketches showing Van Gogh in all his moods. These combined with hundreds of letters by Van Gogh to Theo, and selected works by his friends and contemporaries, form the core of the museum's collection. Currently on exhibit is an exhibit "Barcelona 1900." This exhibition includes the depth and breath of art and cultural work going on in this provincial capital when Picasso was young, eccentric architect Antonio Gaudi was creating his architecture and design and Art Nouveau was flourishing. This show was quite comprehensive and full of beautiful and provocative art and objects.

After all of this culture, being rather hungry, Evan and I followed signs to the Amsterdam Hard Rock Café for burgers and fries. We met a young professional couple from Arkansas there who were complaining about the Euro and had been traveling throughout Europe. They were interested in the Red Sox and the Patriots. After lunch, Evan bought a few keepsakes for friends at the Hard Rock Shop. As the sun was going down, we went on a canal cruise. Seating was at a premium, and we couldn't sit together. We found the taped guide presented in four languages disconnected and less than comprehensive or comprehensible. But the boat ride was fun. Tiring, we went back to our hotel, watched some Dutch, English and French shows and went out to dinner at a small Italian trattoria. There, we met a nice young couple from Ireland who were also  complaining about costs.

George White had told me to go to the Anne Frank House early before the long lines formed. So, on Sunday before 10, Evan and I took the trolley to the Anne Frank House. It started to rain. Luckily there were only about a dozen people waiting, and we got in quickly. The biggest surprise for me was that it wasn't a house at all, but a former factory building. The Frank family and others lived in the back of Otto Frank's factory. The building is now a museum. Evan and I were both quite moved by the experience. It was hard to say anything to each other afterwards.

For a change of scenery, we then decided to go out of Amsterdam to see traditional windmills. At the central train station, a helpful clerk told us what close-by town to visit—Zaanse Schans at the Koog-Zaandijk train stop which was about a 20 minute train ride from central Amsterdam. This small, elegant hamlet is on the banks of the river Zaan. It has characteristic green wooden houses, charming stylized gardens, tradesmen's workshops and engaging little shops along with seven traditional windmills. Unknown to us, this is actually a major tourist destination in the Netherlands. We certainly enjoyed visiting and taking pictures.

We took the train back to Central Amsterdam and went to Dam Square, in the downtown area, to get some late lunch. We were suckered into a tourist trap restaurant—an Argentinean Beef bistro. Oucho, you gaucho! The food was good even somewhat economical, but soft drinks cost as much as the food. Oh well, shit happens. We laughed about it later.

After eating, we visited a fairly inelegant grocery store and explored the retail outdoor mall areas. We happened upon the Amsterdam Historic Museum. The permanent exhibitions are housed around the complex's inner courtyards. Clear signs allow the visitor to concentrate on a specific period of Amsterdam's history. Part of it is the Civic Guards Gallery, a gallery of 17th century portraits of the important citizens of Amsterdam, both - men and women. These beautiful portraits, painted by the Old Masters, give you a thoughtful feeling of the life in the city at the time. Certainly very well done, but not quite on the same evovative level, the paintings were in the tradition of Rembrandt's "Night Watch." The entry to the gallery was surprisingly free!

We then went back to our hotel, along the way studying the wonderful houses, quite a few galleries and several of the more than 2500 Amsterdam houseboats. Before reaching the hotel, we stopped for a brownie at a place called Canal Bagels that was quite excellent and at the same time very Amsterdam. There was a Japanese-Dutch artist there eating bagels with his young daughter. That night, we went out for a lite dinner. The next morning we got up early and took a cab to the airport and easily made our plane back to London. We flew in to Stanstead airport and took a crowded train into London. We each went back to where we were staying. Evan, and I met up later before her late afternoon classes and had a fabulous Italian chicken lunch at a small cafe near her campus. The low price added to our delight. That evening we saw a well crafted Bangladesh/British movie "Brick Lane" at a cinema in Islington. 

This film-going turned out to be a surprising adventure. Evan had given me rather vague instructions on how to get there. When she arrived ahead of me from her dorm, she realized that I could easily have gone to the wrong tube stop. Uncharacteristically, I asked two people where the cinema complex was when I started out from King's Cross. One actually knew. He worked for the London Transit Authority. Evan reached me on my cell phone and was very nervous that I was lost. I told her that I was at the Angel tube stop, and she was very complimentary to me for finding the right place. She was greatly relieved. The film was provocative, multicultural and a little melancholy, but wonderfully evocative and well-acted. We had a late dinner at a Thai restaurant that was part of a chain that we had eaten at on our trip during Christmas of 2006, Thai Square. It was just as delicious as our first experience. Later, Evan and I hugged goodbye at my hotel. She would be returning to Boston in a few weeks after her exams.

I got up in plenty of time to get to my plane back to Boston, but the trip on the Piccadilly Line to Heathrow took forever, and somehow, I was the last one in line at the check-in. I sat next to an English phd history student at Harvard. He was a tutor at Cabot House. He slept most of the way home. My trip with Evan was a great success.

The trip back was fine with one exception. There were a number of people coughing and sneezing around me. My loyal assistant Emmett was waiting with my car when I came out of customs. But, I felt terrible. My cough had become a cold. When I got back to my studio, I was quite sick. I felt so bad that I actually went to the doctor's. I had viral bronchitis. Moral: You may be able to pick your itinerary, you may be able to even pick your flight and even your seat, but you cannot pick the others who will be flying with you sick or healthy. Nevertheless, it was a bon voyage.