Amsterdam...of course!
I Amsterdam
Parler Paris Nouvellettre®
Your taste of life in Paris and France
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Monday, April 5, 2010 • Paris, France
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Dear Parler Paris Reader,
Easter weekend was an ideal time to take a few days to 'get outta Dodge' and do something different. We chose to drive to Amsterdam, even though the train now only takes 3 hours 18 minutes, because the fares were getting more expensive each day as we got closer to departure date. Six hours on the well-tended European roads was an easy trip in spite of the consistent, yet inconsistent rain.
For 6€ a night, we parked the car in the P+R ArenA Transferium (Park and Ride) lot, then hopped the regional train to the Centraal Station. Within minutes, we were knocking on the door of "Barangay," the B and B in which I had stayed a couple of years ago in the Haarlemmerstraat district within walking distance of the station. The house of a few rooms is on several levels in an old building newly remodeled with tender loving care by two men named Godwin and Willem. Our room was three flights up steep, narrow and twisting stair cases up under the eaves with a high pitched roof and tropical decor. It makes little sense.
Indonesian cuisine is my favorite dining experience in Amsterdam, although Asian cooking of all kinds is easy to find in this multi-cultural city. At the flower market on the Singel is a restaurant I have known for years -- Sampurna -- a non-risk sure-to-be-great-food kind of restaurant, although well known by tourists and possibly on the upper priced scale of such establishments. It was one of the first things on our list of 'to-do's,' along with meeting a Dutch journalist friend there my traveling companion hadn't seen in a long time.
It took a couple hours to wander by foot through the tiny streets and along the stately canals of Amsterdam while window shopping and real shopping along the way. The Dutch style is terribly different from the French, to fit tall bodies and more minimalist thinking. A shoe store displaying what one might consider works of art rather than things you would put on your feet in order to maneuver the cobblestones, was impossible to miss. Only one or two buyers were in the store, but observing them from the street was better than a Dutch Masters exhibition at the Rijksmuseum. (Sorry, wish I could tell you the name of the shop, but we were too enthralled with the shoes to care!)
Passing through the Centrum we ventured into a sex shop 'supermarket' that only a city like Amsterdam could support. The 'toys,' 'gadgets' and clothing were on display exactly in the same way Monoprix shelves its wares and while my friend kept uttering, "my, my, my," I was picking out a few things with which to amuse a lover.
The flower market was shut tight, but Amsterdam certainly was not and Sampurna was filled to the brim. The spiciness of the many small dishes kept us scarfing down more and at the end of this long day, I taxied home leaving my companion with his Dutch friend to cruise the nightlife until the wee hours of the morn.
Easter Sunday morning we had the breakfast room of the B and B all to ourselves to answer a few emails, make some eggs and pop in a Nespresso pod or two. Lazily we ventured out into the rainy day late morning, finding the "Jordaan" district shut tight. The houses along the canals, tall and stately with their large rectangular windows and open drapes for all to see within have such a beautiful sense of order. One tiny house wedged among the others was fallen on one side by many centimeters, yet its inhabitants were clearly enjoying Easter Sunday (not feeling the slant?).
The Ann Frank House at 263 Prinsengracht was all a buzz with the usual long line wrapping around its corner, but the herring stands in front of the Westerkerk were also taking a break on the holiday. (I was secretly hoping for a "Broodje Haring" [white bun with raw herring] as a snack.)
By tram we went to spend some time around the Leidseplein, then followed the route of the 170 bus to Museumplein, where we took the tour through the Diamond Museum. Unbeknownst to us, it's more a ploy to get you to buy diamonds than what you'd consider a museum, winding your way through a maze of rooms which start with the most expensive goods to the least expensive, selling you something all along the way and no way out other than through the designated path.
Our only goal for the day was to while away the time, wandering the streets and canals of the city, until our 5 p.m. appointment at the Spa Amsterdam Zuiver (Dutch for "pure"), at the heart of the Amsterdam Forest. We had booked Shiatsu massages and hours of relaxation at the new 13,000 m² facility, based on recommendations, but knowing nothing of what to expect. The 170 bus took us out to the edge of the forest and at the end of a path to a bridge, we found Zuiver.
The Spa Zuiver was a surrealistic experience, being what seemed like the only non-Dutch, and not knowing what to do or how to behave. We had brought bathing suits, but no towels or robes, the exact opposite of what was expected. Quietly and calmly, in that typical Dutch unemotional fashion, the spa was explained by a young pretty woman and off we went to the mixed-sex changing rooms to lock away our belongings. It's a good thing almost all the Dutch speak English as without their guidance, we would have been lost among the stark white rooms with little direction and no cultural clue how to behave. Eventually we got into our terry robes and worked our way down the stairs into the warm, wet spa.
I'm not sure how to actually describe the hours-long experience, moving from one pool, shower, hot tub or sauna to the next, within the confines of the interior space as well as the outdoor pools, all heated to varying degrees, some dry, some wet, some aroma-ed, some not, nude and not caring and taking it all in. By the time we went up to the massage tables, we were complete mush.
The only part of the experience I could have skipped was the Shiatsu massage, by a thin woman with bony fingers who caused more pain than pleasure. Thanks to the our final and hottest sauna, in which a woman pour herbed water onto steaming rocks, then fanned the heat using a towel until we couldn't stand it any longer, I left there feeling no pain and only pleasure.
From there we taxied to the Bird Thai Restaurant on the Zeedijk not far from the "I Am-sterdam" sign, filled our flexible bellies before walking 'home' to the Barangay. Today, we will visit an exhibition or two, shop till we drop and take in what seems this morning like a few rays of sunshine. Let's hope they last more than a few moment.
A la prochaine...
Adrian Leeds
Editor, Parler Paris
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P.S. This week...take in the 'film' "Schindler's List" by attending "A Night at the Movies" with Judith Merians at the American Library in Paris! And then take in the 'play' "Little Eden," by Timothy Smith, Sunday, April 11th, staged by Moving Parts at Carr's Pub & Restaurant. See the Parler Paris Calendar for more information on both:
http://adrianleeds.com/parlerparis/calendar.html
P.P.S. Don't forget to mark your calendar for Tuesday, April 13th when we all meet up at Parler Paris Après Midi. Visit http://adrianleeds.com/parlerparis/apresmidi.html for more information.
