Amsterdam Friday May 10 - Rijksmuseum

Rijksmuseum exterior

Stood in the freezing, windy line for the Rijksmuseum at 8:20AM this morning--waited until 9:20 to enter. Magnificent building, but the collection wasn't impressive. A few Vermeers, Rembrandts--the famous “Night Watch”--but altogether the offerings seemed sparse and the rooms very crowded. The high point of my visit was in the overpriced cafe where I sat across from two friends, one Dutch and one Brit, with whom I enjoyed a lively conversation. I learned the correct pronounciation of tot suis (essentially, “see you later”), but don’t ask--its not pronounced like its spelled. It seems the Amsterdam tourism bureau is doing a better job than the museums deserve. It makes me appreciate San Francisco all the more--we have some excellent works from all periods.

My favorite painting in the Rijksmuseum

After being clued in to the transit realities (she can be taught!), I hopped back on the #10 tram to Fredericksplein and walked a few blocks south to the Albert de Cuyp street market. Right away, I scored a universal adaptor for 5 euro that works here with the fat Dutch plugs. It was fun to walk around and check things out. The shoes were plastic--fake suede, horrible--and the scarves, clothing and material were all of the cheapest polyester. Netherland is not a fashion capital, that's for sure. Had my third herring sandwich, bones and all--I think I'm done with herring for a while. The fish at the marketstall was bright-eyed and firm-fleshed, and the produce looked strong and healthy too--a good place to cook your own.

Fish stall, de Cuyp market

I took the tram to Weesperplein and caught the Metro to Waterlooplein. I don't know what it is about this place, but I always get turned around. A couple of German tourists helped me out with their map and got me going in the right direction. I finaly found the bloody Rembrandthuis. I was shocked to see that I had walked right past it the day before without even noticing. It’s right down the street from the dreadful Argentenian restaurant with the privy soup-water. I did the short tour; my feet were killing me after days of abuse. Rembrandt evidently bought high, and the place bankrupted him; his financial woes were partly brought on by a mistress miffed that their years-long domestic arrangement didn't end in marriage. Serves him right, the old lech--he traded her in for a younger model. The most interesting part of the house was his collection room, filled with statuary and various specimens, reproduced exactly from the records used when the house was auctioned off.

Rembrandt looks somewhat confused in this early self-portrait

Made my way back to the metro courtesy of a very strong cup of coffee, and spent the trip back talking to four young, adorable christian evangelists. They did ask me if I knew god, and I told them we had met many times.

There was a market going on outside A’damsepoort, the shopping area next to the Hostelle--smaller scale, same junk, and a lot of paler faces rushing back from work and those silent office buildings. On the way back, I picked up a chicken leg and roast veges for dinner (excellent value --less than 5 euro, and really good quality)  at the deli next to Bakker Bart, where I picked up my morning sausage roll.

Tomorrow, I prep for Naples. 70 degrees and raining. How am I going to do this?

Bike lanes and bike parking lots--you gotta love this!

To see more of Amsterdam, go to the travel image page on my website: aboutjoannemiller.com