I’m On A Bike
I didn’t have any set schedule for today. My goals were to rent a bicycle, ride it around town, visit the Anne Frank House, find an Amsterdam basketball hoop photo and make it back to the airport on time for my flight.
Bikes are EVERYWHERE in Amsterdam. It is by far the most prominent form of transportation. This is so much the case that in many places they have roads adjacent to car roads with lights specifically designed to control bike traffic. In places where this isn’t the case it can sometimes be confusing as to who has the right of way. When you add pedestrians into the mix it can get downright messy at times. I wouldn’t want to drive a car in Amsterdam because I am certain that I would hit a bike rider. It is also interesting that virtually no riders wear helmets. This includes the multitude of little kids who are riding around in seats on their parent’s bikes.
The bike shops open at 9 am and my goal was to be there when they opened as to not waste my limited time in Amsterdam. I did decently well, making it to the “Yellow Bike” shop by 9:30.
Renting the bike was a fairly painless process although it took forever because the employees at the place were in no hurry to register me and take my money. Eventually I got my giant old Schwinn looking bike and began on my adventure to explore Amsterdam.
As previously mentioned the site I most wanted to see in the city was the Anne Frank Museum. The home where the Frank family hid during WWII and the majority of Anne’s diary was written is located in downtown Amsterdam. It is set up as a museum and viewable to the general public. Anne’s words are displayed throughout the home and poignantly describe what the reality must have been like to live in constant fear and such a confined space. The home itself really was not that small. Their secret hiding place would have actually been an okay sized flat in London. The problem of course is that they could NEVER leave. Additionally the windows were covered in black out. This of course just served to make the space feel even smaller.
My favorite parts of the museum included the stairways, hidden bookshelf, attic and height wall. The stairs were incredibly steep in this house. One stairway runs from the ground floor to the third floor and I would guess that it is at a 65 degree angle. After the Franks had been in hiding for a while the couple who owned their home decided that they should put in a bookshelf to hide the passageway to the secret rooms. I can’t believe anyone would have ever found the secret space without first knowing it was there. The attic was another cool place in the house. This had one window that those in hiding could access to see a tree and some blue sky. I can’t imagine what it would have been like to have that one window as your only window to the world. Finally, my most favorite part of the museum was that the Frank family kept a height growth chart for the kids on the wall. This really drove home how long they were in hiding because the kids legitimately grew a few inches. Personally, I also think height walls really represent home and family. I have great memories of our family’s wall. It is just so unspeakably sad that the reality of their home and family was confinement and fear.
Overall I would highly recommend this museum to anyone visiting Amsterdam. It is laid out well, full of interesting short little movies, quotes and artifacts. Experiencing the actual site really allows a young girl’s words to come to life in a way that nothing else can.
After completing my trip to the Anne Frank Museum I had to run back to the hotel to check out of my room. I decided to spend the remaining four or so hours I had just riding around town checking out the sites and looking for basketball hoops.
My overall feeling on the city is that it is gorgeous. The canals are relatively clean, have very pretty boat traffic and the architecture is spectacular. I really had no idea how pretty it was going to be. In general I felt the signage around town was not very good. Unlike many foreign cities I found the English signage to be quite limited. I was surprised by this too, since everyone in Amsterdam speaks English. I also didn’t find the streets to be set up in a very intuitive manner. I’m sure this a byproduct of both navigating around the canals and the age of the city.
My first stop on my bike was through Westerpark. It looked like a fairly big park on my map. I figured it might have a court and at a minimum would be a pretty ride. It was a pretty ride but it was also pretty frustrating. According to the signs in the park there was supposed to be a “korfball” court. This is a game described as “a lively hybrid of netball, volleyball and basketball… where players ultimately target a 3.5m hoop” in the Lonely Planet. I wanted to see what the hoops looked like so I spent way too much time trying to locate the court. I suppose I could have stopped and asked someone but the odds are quite good they would not have been helpful anyway. Eventually I located what I am 95% sure to be the “court”. Conveniently there were not any hoops erected at the moment. Basically I had just wasted a good hour looking for something that appeared not to exist.
At this point I decided I was hungry. I stopped in a trendy looking bar located in the park. The menu wasn’t in English, which again I found surprising. The only word I recognized for certain was as “Bitterballs”. Bitterballs are evidently a traditional Dutch food consisting of minced meat and sometimes cheese and potatoes. The mixture is then rolled into a ball and coated with a chicken nugget like crust. Then, of course, they are fried. I liked my bitterballs ;~)
The waitress in this place was unusually friendly, so I decided to ask her if she knew of any basketball hoops. She thought about it and came up with a place. She also said that there were quite a few around town, she just couldn’t specifically remember where. I was comforted to hear this because in my previous 24 hours in Amsterdam I hadn’t seen any.
The path I rode to the waitress’ recommended court was beautiful. The majority of it ran along a canal filled with neat old boats and surrounded by pretty architecture. Along the way I spotted a couple hoops that I documented. They were good but the one the woman recommended was the best. It was located in front of the Rijksmuseum which is obviously a very famous museum but also an incredibly beautiful building. To see the building click here: http://www.essential-architecture.com/EUROPE/HOLLAND/AMS-M01.htm .
I had about one hour remaining after visiting the Museumplein. I didn’t have any specific points of interest remaining so I chose to ride my bike around to see more of the city. As I was riding near a park in an area with no car traffic I started to hear a whining motor behind me. It didn’t sound like a motor scooter but it was definitely mechanical. Within the next second or two a large women on a “Rascal” passed me. A rascal is the infomercial name for the scooters that they have in stores for handicap people or if you prefer, the one George rode around on in a classic episode of Seinfeld. It was hilarious. I am certain that when she passed me she cursed me out in Dutch. I may have been in an area designated for pedestrians as opposed to bikes, but as I previously mentioned, to a foreigner that distinction is not always easy to make. She was also hauling butt. I was moving at a pretty good clip (15 mph or so) and she flew by me. Who knew a Rascal could go that fast? Maybe she had the governor removed. She seemed like that type of woman ;~)
At around 3 p.m. I decided I should probably start heading back towards Central Station to catch my flight. I had taken a couple bicycle only roundabouts (yes, they have such things in Holland) and I had no idea which way to go. The roads aren’t really set on any sensible grid and there isn’t anything super tall in the horizon (ie mountains or really tall buildings) to use as a guide. I decided to just stop and ask someone. He looked at me like I was crazy and said, “You are really far from Central Station. It is at least an hour ride from here.” I didn’t think I could be that far away. I thanked him and set out riding the direction he told me. After five or so minutes of riding I asked another person which way was Central Station to be sure that I was still moving in the right direction. Her reaction was, “I’m pretty sure it is that way (she pointed) but it is really far from here.” I said thanks, grinned and continued riding the direction she told me to go. After another ten minutes of riding I checked with a third person to make sure I was still going the right direction. She looked at me like I was nuts. Said it is “Over there. But it is a long way from here.” At this point I was like, “it can’t still be THAT far away.” I was confident I was moving in the right direction. Within five more minutes of riding I started to recognize buildings and I knew where I was. Within 25 minutes from when I started I was back to Yellow Bike. I wanted to go and tell the first guy I asked for directions that unlike most Europeans, Americans do things with purpose. In this case that meant peddling at more than the typical leisurely Dutch pace.
My over arching feeling on the train ride out to the airport was that I wish I had a few more days in Amsterdam. If I had been there longer, I would have taken one of the guided bike rides out into the country, taken a boat cruise along the canals, gone in a few more of the museums and eaten more waffles. I didn’t expect to get to see the whole place in 36 hours but I also didn’t expect to like it as much as I did. Amsterdam is definitely a place which I plan on returning.
Believe it or not absolutely nothing noteworthy happened on my flight back to London. This is also a shocker. I slept the whole flight. Being that this was the second time I had arrived at Heathrow in less than three days, I was pretty familiar with where to go. I took the Heathrow express to Paddington, hopped on the Tube to Baker and was back in Nicole’s apartment within an hour of landing.
I wanted to take Nicole out to dinner on Saturday night as a thank you for letting me stay at her place. I let her pick the restaurant. She picked a trendier and slightly fancy pub in Prim Rose Hill called the Engineer. The place was very charming and the food was surprisingly good. We split a chicken pate for an appetizer. Nicole had a lamb dish that she said was good. I had a sirloin served with “baker fries.” Baker fries were what Americans would think of as really thick cut fries. They were basically small potatoes cut in quarters and fried. It’s pretty hard to go wrong with that.
By the time Nicole and I finished dinner it was 11:30 p.m. I was exhausted from going nonstop since my arrival in Europe, so I voted for an “early” bedtime. Nicole decided to come back to the flat as well. Which leads us to now… I am tired and calling it a night… I’ll write again soon!
Katy
This is the bike I rode around Amsterdam. I constantly had two songs in my head while pedaling. The first was from the Wizard of Oz. I kept hearing the theme music for the Wicked Witch of the West… “duhn duhn duhn na na, duhn duhn duhn na na.”
More recently a popular “digital-short” from Andy Samberg of SNL has spread around the Internet. It’s called “I’m on a boat”. In my head I kept hearing that but instead the lyrics were “I’m on a bike.”
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