Last weekend I went to Amsterdam, to meet some Polish friends who were there for a big TV industry fair. Apart from a brief stopover when backpacking 35 years ago and a long afternoon in the transit lounge at Schiphol, I had no knowledge of Amsterdam, and was looking forward to a frisson of fresh air after stuffy old Brussels.
Due to the massive influx of TV people for the fair, the only hotel room I could get was out of town on a sort of trading park, and although clean was pretty basic. It was also full of Poles. Even the receptionist was Polish. The other guests looked quite at home crammed into the refectory for a cold breakfast served by sullen waitresses. The what's-on magazine left in my hotel was quite different from the usual tourist advice. Several pages dealt with "sex", "drugs", "tattoos" and other off-beat tourist activities, and even told you where to hide your hard drugs if you were afraid of being searched by the police (no, not there. In your shoes, apparently). Amsterdam's city flag (above) calls to mind a zipper, or a bodice, or simply all the taboos which can be broken here.
However, it's not all sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll. We took a boat tour of the canals, which are extremely picturesque, and then a tram down to the Rijksmuseum and the Van Gogh Museum. Unfortunately it was late in the afternoon and they were both closed, but it is a pleasant city to meander around. We got a bit lost around the area where ladies sit in their windows, and had to take refuge in a coffee shop, where the coffee wasn't very good but after a while we got the giggles. The longer we stayed in there, the more hilarious we found it all. We rolled back to the hotel holding each other up after looking in the windows of sex shops.
Our hotel reception recommended a restaurant for rijsttafel, the Indonesian cuisine which has become to Holland what curry is to Britain. We must have got the last free table at Kantjil & de Tijger, so I would recommend booking in advance if you choose to go there. It is a smart, modern restaurant with no kitsch Indonesian decor. Not having the faintest idea what we were ordering, we picked out a selection of meat and vegetarian dishes, two kinds of rice and one bowl of noodles. The dishes that arrived were very diverse, ranging from fresh fruit to blow-your-head-off chicken, but on the whole very tasty. With three beers and a bottle of house white, we came out for just under 25 euros a head, with full tummies. A full rijsttafel menu can be had here for 26 euros, without wine.
On Sunday we set off on the train for Haarlem, a small town 15 minutes from Amsterdam, where we shuffled around looking at windmills, canals, churches and shop windows. As a globetrotter of some experience, I made sure I didn't go in ermine and pearls. Haarlem is quite charming, with narrow cobbled streets, picturesque canals and even a working windmill. On the Grote Markt we had lunch at L'Anders, which serves extremely good filled rolls, salads and soups. I think my Polish friends picked out this place in honour of General Anders who was a heroic cavalry officer during the second world war. The Polish cavalry is known, albeit apocryphally, for leading a cavalry charge on horseback against German tanks, and for being somewhat surprised when the Germans most unsportingly retaliated with machine guns.
If the Dutch army had resisted invasion (which they didn't to my knowledge), it would have attacked on bicycles. There must be more bicycles than people in Holland. How anyone recognizes their bike in a pile like this beats me.
The shops in Haarlem, which were unfortunately closed due to it being Sunday, looked rather better than what we have in Brussels. Shoes (leather, not clogs) and lamps were of particularly good design.
Due to the massive influx of TV people for the fair, the only hotel room I could get was out of town on a sort of trading park, and although clean was pretty basic. It was also full of Poles. Even the receptionist was Polish. The other guests looked quite at home crammed into the refectory for a cold breakfast served by sullen waitresses. The what's-on magazine left in my hotel was quite different from the usual tourist advice. Several pages dealt with "sex", "drugs", "tattoos" and other off-beat tourist activities, and even told you where to hide your hard drugs if you were afraid of being searched by the police (no, not there. In your shoes, apparently). Amsterdam's city flag (above) calls to mind a zipper, or a bodice, or simply all the taboos which can be broken here.
However, it's not all sex and drugs and rock 'n' roll. We took a boat tour of the canals, which are extremely picturesque, and then a tram down to the Rijksmuseum and the Van Gogh Museum. Unfortunately it was late in the afternoon and they were both closed, but it is a pleasant city to meander around. We got a bit lost around the area where ladies sit in their windows, and had to take refuge in a coffee shop, where the coffee wasn't very good but after a while we got the giggles. The longer we stayed in there, the more hilarious we found it all. We rolled back to the hotel holding each other up after looking in the windows of sex shops.
Our hotel reception recommended a restaurant for rijsttafel, the Indonesian cuisine which has become to Holland what curry is to Britain. We must have got the last free table at Kantjil & de Tijger, so I would recommend booking in advance if you choose to go there. It is a smart, modern restaurant with no kitsch Indonesian decor. Not having the faintest idea what we were ordering, we picked out a selection of meat and vegetarian dishes, two kinds of rice and one bowl of noodles. The dishes that arrived were very diverse, ranging from fresh fruit to blow-your-head-off chicken, but on the whole very tasty. With three beers and a bottle of house white, we came out for just under 25 euros a head, with full tummies. A full rijsttafel menu can be had here for 26 euros, without wine.
On Sunday we set off on the train for Haarlem, a small town 15 minutes from Amsterdam, where we shuffled around looking at windmills, canals, churches and shop windows. As a globetrotter of some experience, I made sure I didn't go in ermine and pearls. Haarlem is quite charming, with narrow cobbled streets, picturesque canals and even a working windmill. On the Grote Markt we had lunch at L'Anders, which serves extremely good filled rolls, salads and soups. I think my Polish friends picked out this place in honour of General Anders who was a heroic cavalry officer during the second world war. The Polish cavalry is known, albeit apocryphally, for leading a cavalry charge on horseback against German tanks, and for being somewhat surprised when the Germans most unsportingly retaliated with machine guns.
If the Dutch army had resisted invasion (which they didn't to my knowledge), it would have attacked on bicycles. There must be more bicycles than people in Holland. How anyone recognizes their bike in a pile like this beats me.
The shops in Haarlem, which were unfortunately closed due to it being Sunday, looked rather better than what we have in Brussels. Shoes (leather, not clogs) and lamps were of particularly good design.
Very unusual lamps
A number of Amsterdam's shops are open on Sundays but are rather alternative, generally targeting consumers of herbal substances. It was mushroom season, to judge by the amount of shops advertising them, I expect it's a result of all that wet weather we've been having. I wondered if one of the pungent nostril-pierced scruffbags working in these shops might be my erstwhile protégé Scrumpy who had a great interest in agronomy - he was always bandying around scientific terms like "hydroponic". He set off for India a couple of years ago but I suspect never got past Amsterdam. However, I wasn't going to besmirch my white gloves to investigate under the dreadlocks. I toyed with a lovely Delft china pepper pot, but decided I didn't have room in my luggage. It had a lovely feel to it, though.
I was somewhat relieved to return to boring old Brussels on Sunday night after my trip to Sodom and Gomorrah, but strangely unable to stop thinking about that pepper pot.
22 comments:
Just the sort of pepper pot to place at the table when mummy and daddy visit.
I've visited Amsterdam on numerous occasions, walked the canals, visited the museums etc, walked the red-light district .... counted the amount of stag nights and hen parties going on and have decided that unless shown another side to Hamsterdam, I really don't like it anymore.
If you like heavy oil paintings in really dark colours, then visit the Rijksmuseum - but it didn't do much for me.
But where are my shrooms, sweet lady?
And a bargain at only 1.50 euros - you could have stocked up on xmas presents for all your friends and family
It must be boring for those ladies staring out of windows. Do they make funny faces or lick their lips?
Sex, drogues et bicyclettes !
Combien pour ce sein dans la vitrine ?
( une chanson de Line Renaud )
As-tu pris dans un coffee shop un café qui rend hilare ( grinning )?
Et ensuite un tatouage style Vincent van Gogh ou même Théo Van Rysselberghe (pointillisme)
Peut-être un piercing dans l'euphorie ?
Et pourquoi la poivrière n'est-elle pas tombée malencontreusement dans ton sac à main ,comme Les Feuilles d'automne ?
( Ce qui me fait penser aux poèmes de Victor Hugo Soleils couchants ;
" Car personne ici-bas ne termine et n'achève ;
Les pires des humains sont comme les meilleurs ;
Nous nous réveillons tous au même endroit du rêve,
Tout commence en ce monde et tout finit ailleurs.
Oui, d'autres à leur tour viendront, couples sans tache,
Puiser dans cet asile heureux, calme, enchanté... ")
Dire des ânneries de temps en temps , mais pas seulement !
Seeing at those ladies in their Amsterdam windows was one of my very first experiences of The Continent. Fascinating, of course, when one is a typically twattish 17 year-old boy, but I think I'd find it all rather sad now. I also lost my money in Amsterdam and had to spend 3 hours in a bar nursing one single beer; the barman was commendably understanding about this, which is a good memory.
Did you have free, fresh wind in your hair?
Shame about the museums. Did you try the sloe gin?
That reminds me - whatever happened to my delft tiles?
I could do with a new pepper pot. Aunty Marianne took all of hers with her - including one that, amazingly!, was in fact mine I think.
Shrooms, Zed????? My dear, your brain is so addled anyway I shouldn't think shrooms would make much difference. Have you looked in your back garden?
Kim, for some reason they don't seem to be able to shift them even at knockdown prices.
GB, they must feel a bit like gorillas in a zoo, only with a lesser sense of identity.
Crabtree, "asile heureux" est une bonne description d'Amsterdam.
Gadjo, a school trip to A-dam should be on every boy's curriculum. Why did you wear a kilt at your wedding, pray tell? Are you in fact Gadjo McDilo?
Pat, not this time, but next time I will do the canals on an open boat. How should I know what happened to your tiles?
Doris, amazing that you owned an item of "arts de la table" given that you famously do not cook. What a pity the pepper pot wasn't one from Amsterdam - I'd loved to have seen Aunty's face when she pulled it out (so to speak).
You have to grind the pepper balls together and then shake the pepper pot violently about before the spice comes out.
I was >this< close to commenting on the pretty lamps, till I read the sign. You naughty lady!
It's amazing how many men, young and old, manage to "lose" all their money in Amsterdam, innit?
I'm only an eighth Scottish, Daffers, and it's on my mother's side, but that didn't stop me. Mr Farty, yes, I'm sure you're right: many wives (and the British Embassy) must be sick of hearing that by now!
Bart: we have moved on from the "double entendre" post - do keep up, dear.
Farty, I think British consular officials in Amsterdam get a Difficult Post Allowance. If there was ever a job that robbed you of any faith in the essential goodness of mankind, it's consular work.
Gadjo, does the right to wear a kilt go down the paternal line then? How sexist. You looked very nice in it though. You like dressing up in funny costumes don't you?
I wasn't accusing you of knowing what happened to my tiles - just idly wondering - as one does as the thought occurs. Your blog is conducive to a good muse. And I mean that in the nicest possible way grumpy:)
So Pat - did you buy the tiles and leave them behind somewhere? Or did you intend to buy them and never got around to it? Or did you order them and they still haven't arrived? Or did you have them laid and they got damaged? Come on now, we're all agog about your tiles. Idle musing never got the bathroom tiled. This is an action blog - come on everyone, look for Pat's tiles! They're blue and white, I think, possibly with windmills on.
Daphné , les Amstellodamois
" Dandies ou dude " façonnent-ils les poivrières à la main ? Ce qui expliquerai cette forme un peu curieuse de champignon genre amanite vireuse !
Daffers, I really don't know, to be honest. I think it just goes with the surname (and so usually the paternal side), but I know resolutely Scotch Scotsmen with an English surname who wear highland dress with a frightening degree of pride.
Do I like dressing up in funny costumes?? I dunno, I wasn't aware of that! Have you got a particular one in mind?
Bon Dieu Crabdude, imagine un remake porno du film "Ghost" où la veuve voit apparaitre sur la girelle un poivrier hollandais !
Gadjo, what you're wearing on your blog photo is the sort of thing Bert puts on when he's playing third triangle with the KNOB (Kurt Nachtnebel Oompah Band if you haven't been reading the back catalogue). Was that your going-away outfit?
Ah yes, it was, of course! I also had a getting into the wedding car outfit and a descending the steps from the airplane to the runway "honeymoon" outfit.
I think I've heard this KNOB on the radio. They're greatly enjoyed here - by people who don't like music too much.
Actually you would only need to purchase one of those 'sturdy' Pepper shakers since you yourself will be turning into a pillar of salt!
Ha! ha! hi! hi! Tel est pris qui croyait prendre !
vous voyez un Dandy !
- Vous devriez au moins faire afficher cette "Chose", ou la faire réclamer par le ....Propriétaire ?
- Ma foi ! non. Je la trouve bien ici. Vous seul, vous m'avez reconnu ? D'ailleurs la dignité m'ennuie. Ensuite je pense avec joie que quelque mauvais poète la ramassera ( la poivrière )et s'en servira impudemment. Faire un heureux, quelle jouissance ! et surtout un heureux qui me fera rire ! Pensez à X, ou à Z ! Hein ! comme ce sera drôle !
C'est du Baudelaire :) Si ! Si !
Those *very unusual lamps* remind me of the *very unusual balloons* my cousin and her nurse colleagues strung up in the nursing home once, when they had a party.
We have a stew called pepperpot. Imagine serving it in one of those pots.
Did you know that that you can generate cash by locking special areas of your blog / website?
All you need to do is open an account with AdWorkMedia and use their content locking widget.
Post a Comment