In Search of Culture

Goededag!

When I came to the Netherlands many years ago, we did not stay in Amsterdam but near The Hague in Scheveningen.  So my first Amsterdam neighborhood is the Jordaan.  I’ll be moving in a couple of days, but if you wish to find me start at the Central Station and move west to Haarlemmerstrat and cross the Singel, the Herrengracht and the Princesgracht. These are major canals. I’m just past the Princesgracht on Haarlemmersdijk.  The Jordaan used to be a purely working class neighborhood.  Like many others it’s become a bit gentrified but retains a traditional character of small shops.  It’s a great place to stay because it’s a short walk to the station, a grocery store, bakery, and cheese shop are right across the street, and down a bit sits an ice cream shop which I will have to investigate.  And I’m sure the only question in your mind is why I haven’t already.

As I strolled down the street this morning, I passed an open “Coffee Shop” and can attest that they are still in business as a scent familiar from my college days wafted out into the street.  I cruised past being careful not to inhale and went over the bridge to my first stop—the atm.  My bank has no foreign partners in the Netherlands so I am going to patronize RaboBank.

Why that particular one, Pil?

They sponsor a cycling team.

We might have known.  Sigh.

A lot of financial institutions in Europe sponsor pro cycling.  If you are ever in Denmark say hi to SaxoBank.  Contador rides for them.

My destination was the Amsterdam History Museum.  I walked up to the plaza where the Central Station is and turned down Warmoesstraat where I made my way to The Dam.  If there is a center to the city, this is it.  It’s the site—long since filled in—of the original dam on the river, and apparently the Dutch like to send ignorant tourists in search of an actual Dam.  What one will find instead is the palace.  Her majesty Queen Beatrix is probably not there.  She lives at the Hague.

I walked down a bit further to the museum where I obtained a Museum Karte that will get me free admission to most of the museums around the country.  Now I call that a good investment.

I spent several hours in the history museum, which exhibits objects and paintings from Amsterdam’s past as well as my favorite, the reconstructed rooms.  Then I strolled back toward the station taking various side trips into interesting looking streets where I licked a few windows.  I took a longish walk down Herrengracht and then walked back along Princesgracht to my street.  My guidebook claims the Dutch are flattered when you stare into their living quarters. It’s a matter of pride apparently, so I kept my eyes busy with both the land and boat houses.  Back at Haarlemmersdijk I popped into the grocery and came home to watch the Tour de France.

Dinner was some salad, sausage, and far too much butter.  To wash it down I tried the Belgian version of blond beer, which I liked better.  Many of the Dutch would join me in preferring Belgian beer.  Heineken is much bigger abroad than it is here.

Dag!