Although possibly a reflection of my contemplative state at the moment, so far Amsterdam has been an interesting observation which has left me feeling somewhat old and prudish. No, not prudish….just….not part of the scene.
Everybody told me how much they enjoyed Amsterdam and what a great time I’ll have, but quite frankly I’m finding it a little boring. Everybody seems to be interested in either getting so high they can’t say anything apart from “man”, “yeah” and “wow”, going in to peer, point and giggle at the women making a living for themselves in the windows of the red light district or getting blind drunk and talking about inane crap. Apparently this is a life I should aspire to. Sometimes I have to wonder where I went wrong. I find so much of it completely baffling…apologies to any readers who are fond of the happy plant, but I just can’t fathom why people want to reduce themselves to a bumbling mess, moreover their brains. Perhaps I value intellect too much? Like I said, baffled.
Sigh.
Aside from the disappointing tourist debauchery, Amsterdam isn’t too bad when you get away from the wantonness. Its canals add a prettiness to the city despite their less than clean appearance, and the park just southwest of the city centre is lovely and relaxing. There are bikes EVERYWHERE and sometimes they make walking difficult - but I don't think I will complain.
Probably the stand-out thing for me at the moment is my visit to the Anne Frank Huis – I was surprised to find that Amsterdam was actually the place where Anne Frank was in hiding during the second world war. It was a very sombre and deeply saddening visit despite the large number of tourists wandering around her house. You go through the offices and storerooms, up to the entrance concealed by the bookcase, and up into the secret annex where the Frank family lived with the van Pels family and Fritz Pfeffer for two years until they were betrayed by a still unknown person. Anne’s father Otto was the only person of the eight in hiding who survived the concentration camps and helped put together the house as a museum and fighting for human rights until he died at the ripe old age of 91.
Unfortunately (or perhaps fortunately) cameras are not allowed so I was not able to take any photos of the house, leaving the memory to my brain and the pamphlet provided.
Needless to say it was a moving experience and one that will stay with me.
I am missing Andrew more than I’d like. He is off with his family doing a Speedy Gonzalez tour of a few European countries. I should hopefully catch up with them at the start of October, as unfortunately I was a little preoccupied when we were all together in Rome for a few days. It was nice though – Jayne organised a great little apartment (complete with wifi) and we had a nice time. Didn’t do too much – spent half my time organising my Indian visa which I may not even use now.
Hope you’re all well!
XX
Amsterdam photos
