[Towards the back of the six-story building where
Andrew works for Edenspiedermann is an apartment they keep to offer to their
interns. To get there you go through the gated parking area, through a locked
door that is Dick’s extensive workroom area with all kinds of paraphernalia, up
the stairs and then you are there. It is a flat with 2 small bedrooms, and a
larger suite that Dick inhabits. There are two bathrooms at either end of the
hallway, one with a shower and one without – Dick has his own. Then there is a
just-right sized kitchen – I’ve never seen Dick using it, and as he keeps his
door securely shut, there’s no knowing what other rooms he might be hiding in
there. Andrew’s other housemate is Eva (Ava). She is a young working woman who
will finish up her university studies just about the same time as Andrew. She
told me that her family lives at the other end of the country – all of a
five-hour train ride away. (I had to chuckle at the difference in what ‘at the
other end of the country’ can mean.) I also love the wording used when asked
the question of how many kids in the family – ‘we are four,’ as opposed to
there are four of us.
To save the impact for today’s entry, up to this
point I have purposely not shown any pictures of canals. The thing is – they
are everywhere! Resulting in the fact that Amsterdam, with its old buildings,
streets, AND canals, is effortlessly ‘all queued up’ for the perfect photo-op.
(The first is a view taken from outside of Andrew’s very back door – no
kidding!) Enjoy.]
Raining this morning. Stayed in and did a little
‘mom’s in town’ cleaning in the kitchen. (Hot water out of the sink would scald
a grown man, let alone the skin of a tender little baby!) Prepared a couple postcards to mail to a few
lucky persons.
In the afternoon went out exploring for my last
day in the Netherlands. For starters tried to get to the Albert Heijn market
that Andrew frequents. (You would cry ‘monopoly’ if you could see how pervasive
this store is – every few streets, in varying shapes and sizes. Big, big one on
Dam Square in the heart of the city.) Got good and lost, but that’s okay
because you always have the center of town, not too far away, to angle yourself
towards. For a change I was armed with a map – which in the end actually confused
me all the more! Asked many questions, and even then found myself turned this
way and that, often ending up going in the opposite direction of where I
thought I was headed. (It’s funny how you say the name of the street you’re
looking for – the best you can – and then they say it back to you, correctly, with
an entirely different pronunciation than your best attempt. That happened over
and over, and never ceased to make me laugh inside. You just say, Uhuh, that’s
the one, and nod.) Thankfully my time was without a set agenda, so being lost
was just fine.
Happened upon the Anne Frank Huis, a giant tourist
destination here, as you can well imagine. I had not felt the need to visit it
while here, but was happy to come across the site. The thing that surprised me
the most was that the location of Anne Frank’s world, as we all know the story,
is a mere few blocks away from the dead center of downtown. Kind of sad that
the face of the ground floor of the old apartment building has been encased in
a modern glass enclosure, but so it is. (see below) I had serendipitously
stumbled upon this venue quite by accident, actually in the event of asking for
directions yet again.
Having spent the day walking about and taking in
the atmosphere, returned home in order to be packed up and ready to go as soon
as Andrew was finished working. Following a dining recommendation a shopkeeper
had given me, we found our way to one of the oldest lanes in Amsterdam – Zeedijk
– especially attractive to me as it was close to the train station, from where
I needed to embark soon on my way back to Schiphol airport. (Pretty comforting
feeling to be able to somewhat know your way around in what very recently had
been an entirely baffling situation.)
We ate at the Thaise Snackbar Bird. Yes, I must
admit, we were thrown off for a few questioning moments by the name – visualize
our back and forth looks as we tried to decide if this was indeed where we had
been directed. Somehow if the shopkeeper had given me the name of the
restaurant, I hadn’t caught it. But in every way he had been right – it WAS
very tasty with a PERFECT ambiance. You could tell it was a popular spot as there
were many other diners out that mid-week evening – also many strolling down the
old narrow, cobbled lane. There was plenty to sight see.
We made our way to Centraal Station – our old familiar
landmark, from which I had walked to and from on multiple occasions. Got my
ticket – even savvy enough by now to get it from a machine. (Man, I’ve come up
in the world!) Andrew walked me to my platform (14b) where the next train to
the airport was sitting waiting, then it was ‘goodbye till we meet again. ‘ (As
you can imagine the train runs often to this particular destination, filled with
many travelers, and this occasion was no exception.)
Having checked in online (saves umpteen time, as
you enter your passport information and skip having to go through all that with
the airlines), I printed out my boarding pass at the KLM (Dutch Royal Airlines)
kiosk (was even able to advance my seat by several rows) and followed the queue
through customs. My line was much shorter than everyone else’s as it was the
one for those who are NOT members of the EU (the European Union) – and, of
course, basically everyone IS. Easy peasy. I noticed through all this rigmarole
that my bags were never scanned. Aha, I thought smugly, what are they
thinking?! I might be the very bomber they’re looking for! Got my comeuppance
when I discovered our gate had its very own small scanning system. Was able to
hook into the one hour worth of free internet the airport offers and sent a
couple emails – one to tell the Wards that my flight was delayed by half an
hour. Seems the connecting flight from Norway (Am I in Oz or what?!) had been
delayed due to excessive high winds. Glad I wasn’t on THAT flight!
Flew without incident. The plane was not full and
I ended up claiming a window seat with a seat between me and my aisle companion.
Many business men travelling mid-week – no talking this time – I actually got a
few pages into Wolf Hall. By the time I arrived it was nearing 11pm, so it was
that nice Martin who had come out in the dark and freezing cold, at this late
hour, to collect me. Turned my phone back on, that I had brought with me for
just this very purpose, to get us hooked up. (What did we do back in the day
before cell phones?!) At this crazy airport (Birmingham) you have exactly 5
minutes to pick up your traveler and get the heck out of there before you pay
for parking. We didn’t make it – oh, well.
Home again to 94 Oakfield Road, safe and sound – for
a few more days anyway.
Oh, wait – forgot something! It was that little thing
about going through immigration - not quite the breeze it was the first time I
floated through. Once again I queued into a very short line – persons who are
not UK citizens. Much shorter, as well, from how it would have been in
Heathrow. The gentleman who helped me was not a beast, but he was
thorough. Of course, the conversation
always starts out with why are you here, etc. and then talkative me, I forget
to NOT offer any more information than you are asked. We started talking about
where I was going to be staying while ‘visiting,’ and I said something about
LIVING in Birmingham. With that, his ears noticeably pricked up. ‘Living in
Birmingham, you say?’ Then he wanted to know if I had any documentation in
regards to that. Thankfully, Myfanwy had offered to write a letter testifying
that I was staying with her, as a friend. He definitely wanted to peruse that,
and took copious notes. He left the booth several times, was gone a few minutes
and then returned. During the entire time he was very nice and cordial – as I
said, just meticulous.
You can imagine that it was a little touch and go
for me up till the end, because I had no idea where he was going with all his inquiries – and
leaving and then returning. Although in the end the outcome turned out fine, my
interview probably lasted three times longer than it might have. I think he
added up how long I’d been in England, to date, to when I expected to be
returning home (the first of April, I said, for the birth of my new grandson,
and to be present at my son’s university graduation), and then wrote on the new
stamp, ‘until April 10,’ before I had to be gone. The impression I got was that
when staying for this length of time, they would want me to apply for a
visiting visa. That’s what I’ll do in the future, but as for returning this
summer, as long as I have a return flight, there should be no concerns. I asked
him as well if there’d be any problem with me going outside of the country (to
France, for instance) during those four months he’d given me – and then
returning back – and he said there wouldn’t. So, whew, all done for now!
[Never did have poffertjes - mini pancakes - as my friend, Gillian, advised. However, I did learn what they are and also that they mainly show up at faires and festivals, none of which I came across this visit.Too bad. Tot ziens, Amsterdam.]
[Never did have poffertjes - mini pancakes - as my friend, Gillian, advised. However, I did learn what they are and also that they mainly show up at faires and festivals, none of which I came across this visit.Too bad. Tot ziens, Amsterdam.]
1- shot
from Andrew’s back door (Dutch skies - see, Sam!)
2-
skylights out Andrew’s window
3-
stenciled pavement
4- Amsterdam
– see all that blue? Canals!
5- bikes
with canal
6-7 they’re
everywhere
8-11
architecture – another thing Amsterdam is known for – a better claim to fame! (most
of these found along our walk from Centraal Station to Andrew’s)
12- underpass near the station we took many times on
the way to get home – train above, seagulls below
13-17 scenes from the day
Anne
Frank huis
what
I came across on Rokin, probably the most prominent boulevard in the city –
wonder how they pulled this off? (least we forget - it was 2 degrees out there!) At the end of the shoot, everybody on the street watching cheered. It was a great European moment!
where beer bellies in America get started
crazy
restaurant ceiling
Westerkerk
Catholic diocese
18- Amsterdam Airport Schiphol
