Most people envision Amsterdam in the spring or summer: bikes everywhere, busy canals, plenty of tulips. But the city can be an eye-opener even in the bleak of winter. Of course, few people would choose to visit Amsterdam in the winter; so it helps that I have no choice, since my flight back to the States takes off from Schiphol Airport during that season.
We arrive at Centraal Station-the biggest and busiest train station in Amsterdam. Opened in 1889, its glorious Gothic-Renaissance Revival style makes the facade look more like a cathedral instead of a train station. Of course, the station is even busier now with an underground metro and trains to and from Britain via the “Chunnel”. It is said that, due to the length of the railway platforms (2,280 feet), each platform can serve two trains at once. Now that would be a neat trick! I’d like to see that.
Our hotel in Amsterdam is the Apollofirst Boutique. It’s about 15 minutes from the Old Town and museums. It was built combining some mansions; but it looks more like a diner from the outside. Anyway, we proceed to the hotel first to stow our bags and rest up before hitting the town.
The first place we encounter on our walk is the Amstel River. It is in the heart of Amsterdam; and the city, founded in 1275 on a dam on the river, was named after it. The Amstel, which flows mostly through the north of Holland, runs for about 19 miles.
The locks on the Amstel (called locally the “Amstel Sluizes”) are older than they look. Created in the 17th century to improve the quality and quantity of water from the Amstel, they have been renovated many times-which probably accounts for why they don’t look so old. They replaced the dams which were in place when the city was created.
The same is true of the Skinny Bridge (Magere Brug) which crosses the river. The original was built in the 17th century, but it looks newer because of the many renovations. It’s still made of wood painted white, however; and it accommodates both foot and boat traffic. The Skinny Bridge is perhaps the most famous bridge in Amsterdam. Its name comes either from the fact that it was originally much skinnier; or the family name of the Dutch woman who created it meant “skinny”. Take your pick.
Some call Amsterdam the “Venice of the North”. That is obviously because of the canals. The canals were constructed in the 17th century as part of the “Dutch Golden Age”. They were basically concentric and were implemented for defense, water management, and transportation. The canals are certainly attractive-even in the winter…though we don’t know where the hell we are.
We are hopelessly lost in the Canal District. My girlfriend asks for directions to the Foam Photography Museum, which she is particularly keen to see. This museum (located at Keizersgracht) isn’t that old (established in 2001) and exhibits photos as they appear in various genres such as documentary, art, and fashion.
The Foam Museum is okay. Just okay. There are no famous pictures or photographers on display here. You have to use your imagination. I might have thought otherwise if we had gone to the second floor first. This floor is dedicated to the photos and wisdom of American author and photographer Wright Morris. He spent most of his life portraying people on the Great Plains of America in his words and pictures. I had never heard of him.
It’s getting dark, and time to think about dinner. And what do you think we see walking around the city? The Royal Palace bathed in the rays of artificial light. No royals actually live here. They have three palaces at their disposal, and this one serves mostly a diplomatic function. The Royal Palace was built in the mid-1600’s and was originally intended as a Town Hall-which it served as for a good many years. But then Louis Bonaparte became king; and in 1808, he demanded a palace. And that was that. The building is open to the public when the royals or their governmental flunkies aren’t there.
We do most of our restaurant searching in the city’s red light district. Bad mistake. While Amsterdam’s red light district is probably better than most cities, it’s still mostly sex shops, bars, and women prostitutes in windows. The Grasshopper is just across the canal, and we can hardly miss it: it’s bathed in a garish green glow. Besides, it’s our only choice. So I sit down to a rump steak while my girlfriend orders an Angus burger. After our meal, we make a brief detour to a mini-mart to buy a few things before returning to our hotel and turning in.
Today is museum day, and that means approaching the museum district from the northwest corner of Vondelpark.
Vondelpark is the largest (120 acres) and, arguably, the most famous park in Amsterdam. Opened in 1865, it was originally called the “New Park”; but, when several years later, a statue of the poet Joost van den Vondel went up in the park, people started calling it Vondelpark-and the name stuck. To me, it looks more like a golf course than a park-but that’s just me.
Many of Amsterdam’s finest museums are bunched together in a museum quarter. For example, there are in the “Museumplein” (museum quarter) the Van Gogh and the Stedelijk-both great museums. But the mother of them all has got to be the Rijksmuseum. This museum (founded in 1798) is the national museum of the Netherlands, and it is a world class museum, displaying not only Dutch Masters (like Rembrandt and Van Meer), but artifacts from around the world. It is also a history museum of sorts-dedicated to showcasing Dutch history for the past 800 years. The building we see was designed by Pierre Cuypers and opened in 1885. We buy our tickets in a booth outside and head right in to the show.
First, a bit about the architecture. One is immediately struck by the stained glass windows in the Great Hall. These are original to the museum and are dedicated to various arts.
Cuyper’s Library is pretty cool, too. More stained glass windows here. The library is the oldest and largest (450,000 objects) Art History library in the Netherlands. It’s Neo-Gothic interior is wonderful, with both high ceilings and a skylight. It is still open as a research library. A wall inscription in this library says it all: “Thou hast two eyes and one mouth. Let this be a sign to you-to read much, and not to speak.”
As for history, the Rijksmuseum gives it short shrift. Of course, there are objects such as a 17th-century Dutch warship model and a chimney piece with wainscoting in Dutch Mannerist style; but the Rijksmuseum is not the place if you want your history straight. It lets the paintings tell the story of Dutch history.
Just to give a few examples, there is “Enjoying the Ice Near a Town” painted by Hendrick Avercamp in 1620, displaying the Dutch joy of ice skating. “The Little Street” by Vermeer gives a view of 17th-century Dutch life, and “A Windmill on a Polder Waterway” (also known as “In the Month of July”) created by Paul Gabriel in 1889 shows both a windmill and a panorama of rural life in the Netherlands. There are many more; but no tulips. I wonder why.
Naturally, Rembrandt and Vermeer are well-represented in the Rijksmuseum (not so much Van Gogh, because he has his own museum down the street). Among the paintings of Rembrandt are his “Man in Oriental Dress” (1635) and “The Jewish Bride” (1665-69). Vermeer has his incomparable “The Milkmaid” from the Dutch Golden Age here. There are many other offerings from both artists in the museum. The question is: are they fakes or the real things? Only the Rijksmuseum docent knows for sure, I guess.
One of Rembrandt’s most famous and largest (12 feet by 14 feet) paintings, “The Night Watchman” is undergoing pixel by pixel examination by some gadget prior to restoration. I guess this one isn’t a fake since they are going to so much trouble and expense.
We try to get to another wing of the museum and can’t find our way. I wonder if this is a common problem? Anyway, we ask a museum worker and he gives us directions that might as well involve a secret passage. In this wing, there are no masterpieces to be found; but it is quirkier. The highlights for me are the Meissen porcelain monkeys doing un-monkeylike things.
As we leave the Rijksmuseum, we notice a skating rink set up nearby. I don’t know if Amsterdam’s canals freeze up anymore or if people are allowed to skate on them if they do. There are a lot of people on the rink, and, clearly, the authorities wanted it to resemble a canal. There is even a replica of the Skinny Bridge here. Traditions die hard.
It is my last night in Amsterdam (and, for that matter, Europe) in a while. So my girlfriend makes dinner reservations at a fine restaurant which serves Rijsttafel-which is a smorgasbord of small dishes that the Dutch stole from Indonesia during their colonial reign there. But my lady friend gets sick, the dinner reservations are cancelled, and it is uncertain if we will eat at all. Fortunately, she rallies enough for us to attempt a light dinner at a restaurant close to our hotel. We find the Bar Kaspar, a nearby bistro, and it is more than acceptable. At least no tourists seem to be in the place.
I had been in Amsterdam before-many years ago. So long ago that I can’t remember the season. The city may be livelier in the spring or summer; but in the winter, it is just fine. At least it is better than the COVID pandemic which followed and which kept me from returning to my girlfriend for over a year.
Musical Interlude: “Amsterdam”-Gregory Alan Isakov