Yesterday we headed out early to Amsterdam Central, the main train station and the start-point to our city walk. The crowds were sparse — oh, wait…what crowds?! We had the city to ourselves so we wandered about the pedestrian-only streets along the shopping district and flower markets, where one can normally find “start-your-own-bonsai-kit,” tulip bulbs and cannabis seed packs. Marajuana is sold as a legal stimulant on the main drag (no pun intended) “coffeeshop” outlets and the pong in the air means the rest of us get a little high, whether we want to or not. At 6:30 am we avoided inhaling anything but the smell of the sea and the aroma of first coffee.
We’d been out about an hour when the city began to stir and the cyclists, which is everyone, glided silently but swiftly to work and school. The children typically ride in a bucket of sorts attached to the front of the bike where they read, eat, sing and chat away — quite helmetless — with a parent or grandparent at the controls.
The day’s theme was art, something the Dutch are known for. In fact, to a foreign observer, it seems as if art is the religion, philosophy and therapy of the nation. Rembrandt, Van Gogh, Hals, Vermeer, and Steen capture Dutch life in its stillness and tranquility, depict rural and family life, and portray modernism where human agency, particular to the emerging renaissance of merchant “aristocracy,” gives rise to the Dutch Golden Age. Dutch art is still thumbing its nose at Calvinism.
Okay, time for a confession. I made a small but significant mistake a few years ago when I visited Paris. I decided to economize and eat in, as we had rented an apartment with a full kitchen. Oh, silly me. Who stays in for dinner when French cuisine waits at your doorstep? Well, I have since mended my ways and although we are renting an apartment here, we decided to experience local fusion and splurged on dinner last night. A 4 course meal — actually 7 by the time you consider the 2 appies, 3 main events, and 2 desserts. The portions were tasting-size and the kitchen was open so we kept to our daily theme and relished Dutch culinary art with all our senses.
Needless to say, I slept very well — good food is wonderfully restorative. Jet lag is behind me. Ah, relief!
On the theme of sticking with a theme, our focus today is WWII specific to Dutch resistance and the Jewish experience. The Jordaan District housed most of Amsterdam’s 140,000 Jews prior to 1942. Only 30,000 returned after the war and it’s a statistic that has fostered intentional re-membering for the Dutch people. We took a stroll through the residential lanes framed in spring flowers, connected by brick bridges and cobbled streets to witness the flourishing of 21st century Jewish community.
The Portuguese Synagogue serves as a museum offering a chronology of Jewish life in Amsterdam. The theatre, now a memorial, welcomes visitors to honour the dead and celebrate courage. The Dutch Resistance Museum is a 10 minute walk away and aids the visitor’s imagination in light of the dilemna of resistance faced by the Dutch. The museum challenged me to consider resistance as an act of compassion. Hmmm, I wonder if Canadians could learn something from the Dutch as we reconsider our laws around euthanasia and physician-assisted-suicide.
Now for something completely different, the Red Light District of Amsterdam holds an almost revered status for international tourists. Day or night, the area is impossible to avoid due to its central location and that it bleeds annoyingly outside the district’s loose boundaries. One wonders how strong Dutch feminism and the objectification of women can survive the tension.
Temperatures are rising, the rain has cleared and we are enjoying sunny North Holland in all its spring tulip-y glory.
Happy armchair traveling, friends.
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