the three most interesting things I did in amsterdam...

On my recent three-day trip to Amsterdam, I combined work and play, along with new and old. Amsterdam is always worth a trip, no matter how short or long, but this time I wanted to squeeze in a couple of new experiences in order to get to know the city better.

Since I'm always looking for tips and ideas of what to see when I head to a new city, I thought I would share the 3 most interesting things I did on my most recent visit.

1) I took a boat tour...of course. There are more canals and waterways in Amsterdam than there are in Venice, so I had to get on the water. In fact, I have gone on a boat tour every time I've been here, but each time it feels new. I just can't get enough!

The perspective from a city's river is always unique, but in Amsterdam one gets a whole new scale of originality. Some of the canals are so narrow that you feel like you're cruising the veins; the lifeblood of the city. The vibrant history of how the Dutch created a dam and the ensuing canals is ingenious, and fascinating. Basically, the Amstel River flooded one day and the people of the little town thought, 'huh, cool...now there are all these fun waterways, why don't we keep it like this all the time!' The original dam is now covered by the Damrak, the long main avenue in the centre of Amsterdam.

As Amsterdam grew, the Dutch created companies, such as the East India Company in the year 1600, so forward-thinking and ahead of their time, that they not only took control of new markets, they created them. It wasn't only water that began to flow freely through the lanes of Amsterdam, but money, goods, and sailors.

So, do what I did, and lean back on the red vinyl bench of a canal boat, or press your face against the window pane, and listen to the thrilling history of this city for yourself, while you cruise up and down Herrengracht, Prinzengracht and all of the other grachts...it probably won't be your last time.

2) On the Sunday morning I toured the Rjiks Museum. You just have to. Whether you're young, old, rich or poor, this is one great experience. This is like the only museum in the entire world where you can take as many photos as you want, and then do whatever you want with them! It's quite extraordinary. Buy your tickets for the museum online ahead of time to avoid the lines, and get to the museum before 11am so that you can enjoy actually seeing some paintings, instead of just other tourists' backs. And then snap away...that's what I did!

All of the Dutch masters are here...which really means, all of the world's masters are here. Vermeer, Rembrandt, Cuyp, Bol, Van Gogh, Rubens, Steen...and also one of my favourite paintings hangs here, Vermeer's 'The Milkmaid'. I took a photo.

'The Milkmaid' - Johannes Vermeer

Another cool thing about this museum is their interest in wanting you and I, and everyone else, to use art and incorporate it into our own, everyday lives. In the museum, they want you to get into the paintings, learn everything you can about them and really experience the artwork. On their website, you can create your very own Rjiksstudio - collecting your favourite pieces of art onto your own platform, so that you can look at it whenever you want.

Large cards are provided to give detailed information about the artwork displayed - so handy!

And, as I already mentioned, you can take photos of any of the artwork in the museum and do whatever you want with them. Now, it's not as if the museum is thrilled when Van Gogh's self-portrait lands on a million coffee mugs around the world, or 'The Last Judgement' is turned into a dog pillow, but, if people, young and old, with dogs or without, are interacting and investing in the art then the Rjiks Museum says 'go ahead!'...

... transform your favourite work of art (and believe me, you will find a favourite here) into a tablecloth you will love to stare at over dinner, or a hat that everyone will look at when you walk down the street. And if you can't come up with any ideas, the museum already has some (of course). The funniest thing I saw, was Rembrandt's arguably most famous painting, 'The Night Watch' transformed into a playmobil set. So cute!

3) And though not the best segue, from Playmobil to the Red Light District, the last but certainly not least highlight of my recent weekend in Amsterdam (seriously), was the Offbeat Walking Tour of the Red Light District, led by a very knowledgeable local. Don't worry, the following photos are all VSFW (very safe for work).

I wanted to go on this tour because I didn't understand how sweet, beautiful Amsterdam got this reputation as THE place to host every European guy's bachelor party. I just didn't understand, because I don't know any drugged-up, sexed-up Dutch people. All of the Dutch people I know are completely normal, sweet and simple folks. They have an elegant style; a bit Ralph Lauren meets JCrew, and I just didn't get how this world-famous district for drugs and sex wound up in a city as lovely as Amsterdam.

So, I decided to go on a walking tour, promised as offbeat and historical, and fun...led by a really nice, really entertaining local Dutch guy. Our group ended up being a mixture of couples, friends and many females. Most of us were just interested in learning more about this part of the city...or just curious, but too afraid to go wandering about alone. Fair enough.

Well, to simplify the history of the district, it all comes back down to the money and sailors that started to flood Amsterdam in the 17th century. Combine that with the Dutch mentality of innovative, tolerant thinking and you have an environment of 'to each his (or her) own'. Basically, the Dutch are a very non-judgemental folk, and so as long as you aren't hurting anyone else, go ahead and do whatever you want.

Our guide explained it to us this way, the women who decide to work in the Red Light industry (named that way for the brothels lit by red lights to let men know where they are) are tolerated, without judgement. Each woman has her own business license and a panic button in case they need help. The police station is located within these few red-lit blocks in order to keep the women safe.

Our guide, who has interviewed many of the women, said that for someone to get into this line of work, of course there is most often a difficult and painful history, often involving abuse or addiction, or both. He said that the hope is that when the women get enough money together and have a stable, safe income that they will choose another line of work; a healthier one. But, it is left up to each of them to do as they see fit, with many resources and support readily available. The city, and the residents who live within the red light district, (because yes, there are families and daycares and normal activities happening here - it's smack dab in the middle of the old town) treat each other with respect. And, you know, I really respect that.

Now, I could go on about the disgusting behaviour I saw from groups of guys towards each other, but that would be a whole other blog, and not a fun one for me to write. Some men should just never drink alcohol....but that's another story.

I'm glad that I got to know more sides of Amsterdam - it really is such a special city. I hope to get back soon!

three days of holland.

For my birthday I wished for a road trip.

And that's what I got. Just three hours away from home, we set off on a Friday afternoon and soon arrived in Roermond, The Netherlands. This quaint city is filled with unassuming details creating cute, like raggedy-ann's pinstriped socks you notice only in play.

Without agenda or appointment, we wander past bikes and blooms, 

both as ubiquitous as mosquitos by the lake in summer.

Roermond's city centre, a designated cultural protected site, is dominated by the incredible Munsterkerk Cathedral. The entire site, blocks wide, is pocked by leafy green trees, opulent bushels of geraniums, and an immaculately trimmed cloister garden.

 Perched in the centre of the wide-open square, spewing romance like a fountain, sits a white gazebo surely the site of a wedding or two.

The Dutch, the few whom I've met, are impeccably dressed with an air of relaxed understatement. 

They exude a refined leisure; relaxed but not lazy, friendly but not fake.

We sit by the Roer river, in an outdoor café, enjoying the last summer rays of sunshine beaming on our faces. I people watch, Dutch watch. Lovely.

 I'm not just enamoured by the people, but also the language, at least the written one. It's a wonderful mix of English and German - Deutschlish, Denglish, Dutch! I feel right at home here. The sign above our comfy B&B says 'Eten, Drinken, Slapen'. How much do I want to hang that above my front door! Come in! Eat, drink and slapen!

From Roermond, we cruise north-east in our borrowed convertible, stopping and walking whenever the mood strikes us. I was literally almost run-over by this picture perfect Dutch family as we took a walk. They looked exactly like they were in a Travel Holland photoshoot (whose slogan is surely 'travel holland cause it's so darn pretty, people and pets included!') instead of just on a carriage ride with their ponies which they were (of course, totally normal day for me too), that I had to ask for a photo.

 Then onwards to Rotterdam. 

Rotterdam is so huge that we couldn't even get close enough to get a photo of the hustle and bustle of port life. I really wanted to, but this is best I got.

So I settled for more pretty, on our way to the zee. Zeeland by the sea. The convertible top was down, no matter the weather - I with a heavy blanket wrapped around me from head to toe and great guy just smiling.

Finally we reach the beach. The wild North Sea, part of the Atlantic Ocean cupped by Great Britain, Scandanavia, The Netherlands, Belgium, France and Germany is beloved by tourists and historians. A lot has happened on these waters, but the sandy coastline reveals no secrets. It's impressive dunes and never-ending tall, wavy grasses only fill me with peacefulness. 

I feel thoroughly meditative here, and long for time, paper and a pen.

As much as I love people watching, great guy loves seagull watching. 

They really are peaceful birds when they're at the ocean...and not flying around garbage.

Zeeland is the western most province of the Netherlands, and is made up of a number of islands all tied together by land bridges. But, as you drive along the coast it's hardly noticeable that you've hopped from one island to the next, the sand dunes making it so difficult to see the ocean.

Remnants of busy, tourist-filled summer months lie around.

And, I can't help but reading out loud every wonderful Dutch sign. 

 I need to learn this funny language - although I think I already know it.

Every evening we eat a bucket of fresh mussels, seriously every evening. Cheap, excellent and in each place prepared just slightly different. This bucket and this location is our favourite.

On our last night, great guy and I stay on the Beachclub Zuiderduin's terrace long into the night before heading back across the dunes. I will definitely come to this ocean shore again, and even with a cool breeze and rainy days, the empty beach was perfection. Dag.

princess pov

She came into the palace stateroom early. All morning she had been restless in anticipation of the hours ahead. As she walked through the double doors which were opened for her, a light breeze touched her face, billowing her long, blonde hair in one soft movement; surprising her. She stopped and noticed all of the adults standing silently around the room. They seemed antsy too; checking watches, straightening ties, touching necklaces in that unsure-if-it’s-still-on way, flattening invisible wrinkles in skirts, and patting hair ensuring not a single strand had run amok. The air was charged, but silent, as if live wires were running through it and any minute they would explode. She smiled a cheeky, nine-year-old’s smile, thinking it was actually all a bit funny.

The flash of her aunt’s camera caught her attention and she turned to see Mabel standing at the long row of large windows. With her right hand she was taking a photo, while the left one held the gauze curtains just slightly to the side. As the girl came up to her, she could see the sight which Mabel was photographing. The entire square below was a sea of orange! She gasped a little. So many people. All wearing orange crowns, orange t-shirts and holding orange signs reading, “Dag Beatrix!”, “Hallo Willem!

“Wow, how cool,” she whispered to her aunt, thinking she still shouldn’t make any noise. Mabel leaned down to her, and with a grin said, “I just posted the photo to twitter-the people sure seem happy today.” The girl continued peeking out at the crowd, then she lifted her hand and holding the curtain away with one hand, but keeping her head behind it, she began to wave. All of a sudden, through the gauze, she saw the people begin to wave; frantically, happily! Arms swinging wildly back and forth. The huge crowd didn’t make a sound, they just waved. “Look,” she said to Mabel, “they’re all waving back!” And then it hit her, “they’re waiting for me.”

Half an hour later, the girl and her two sisters were sitting on embroidered, velvet chairs, in their matching sunflower-yellow dresses, with blue headbands keeping their straight blond hair in check.  Their chairs were placed in a row, in front of the windows facing the large oval table around which every chair was taken. On the far side of the table, facing them was their father, mother and grandmother. An open book, about the size Moses’s Ten Commandments tablets was placed in front of her grandmother. The entire room was silent as they watched Queen Beatrix sign her name. Beatrix looked at her son sitting next to her and with proud, wrinkled eyes, she smiled and slid the heavy book over for him to sign. All of a sudden, behind her outside, the girl heard a thundering roar erupt from the crowd below. She looked behind her and then back to her parents. Their faces were wide with smiles, hearing the cheers and hollering. Beatrix squeezed Willem’s hand and he took his wife’s, and the three of them enjoyed this moment for which he had been preparing for his entire life. The people were ecstatic. They had a new king.

Last night, before her parents had left for the Queen’s last dinner, she had asked her father, “Papa, how long are you going to be king?” He looked at her in surprise, smiling and said, “I’m not sure. Why are you asking?” “Well, I want to plan, that’s all. I want to know when I’m up.” He gave a chuckle, and just shook his head. “I’ll let you know, don’t worry.”

After everyone around the table had added their signatures, the girl watched as her grandmother and her parents rose from the table. Her mother and father came over to them and the girls jumped up and threw their arms around them. As the balcony doors were opened, the noise from the crowd was deafening. Her parents straightened themselves out; Maxima reapplied lipstick and Willem took a sip of water from a glass handed to him by the valet. She watched as her parents and her grandmother went out onto the balcony, amid the roaring of the crowd. And then, she heard her grandmother’s strong voice, as it carried over the square, “I would like to introduce to you, King Willem-Alexander. King of the Netherlands.”

The girl waited..and waited. It seemed like an eternity. Finally, her grandmother came back into the room, eyes searching and then setting on her’s, “Amalia.”

She didn’t think it could be possible, but as she and her sisters stepped out into the fresh air, the tens of thousands of people in the square cheered even louder. She laughed a little in the shock of it. Then she began to wave and wave and wave and wave. The crowd waved back, flags were flying, and millions of cameras were being held high, pointing at them. Her father, standing behind her, put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it gently. The five of them stood in that moment, waving with gusto, eyes full of light, and wearing big, bright smiles. The waving continued and she remembered all of the things her mother had said to her over the past few days. Wave and smile, wave and smile. But all she wanted to think about was someday it will be her turn. I am the crown princess.

I started celebrating my birthday early this year. I figured why not kick things off by joining the biggest party I could find. So, I did, but instead of a birthday hat I wore a black fascinator.  And, along with fancy black pants and boots, I packed by bag with my notebook and camera and boarded the train for Amsterdam. Little did I know that I would be hopelessly under-dressed.  It seems that the one million other visitors for the king’s coronation had all agreed to wear the same thing. Every man, woman, child, and even one or two dogs were wearing some sort of orange crown. Big balloon crowns, mini headband crowns; glitzy, floppy, paper and plastic crowns. And all I had were feathers.