Amsterdam

We arrived in Amsterdam at 7:30 am after catching a few hours of sleep on the plane. It felt great walking into a European airport after Africa. We stored one of our bags and all our souvenirs at the airport and we set off to catch the train into the city with just one bag.

Our hotel was a short walk from Central Station. It was overcast, cool, and misting on an off...a drastic change from the hot air and bright blue skies of Egypt. We checked into our hotel and then set off towards the Anne Frank House. We stopped at a cafe for some croissants and a cappuccino, which was delicious.



We were so glad we purchased tickets to the Anne Frank House before we left on our trip. We walked right in and got to bypass the huge line that was outside waiting to buy tickets.

We went to the Anne Frank House, which was so special, somber and poignant after just finishing reading The Diary of a Young Girl: Anne Frank this week. We saw all the rooms, some of her artifacts, video of her father (the only survivor of the eight) after liberation, and the famous bookcase that hid the door to the secret annex where Anne and seven others lived in hiding.




According to the back of my book:

Anne Frank's extraordinary diary, written in the Amsterdam attic where she and her family hid from the Nazis for two years, has become a world classic and a timeless testament to the human spirit...Here she is first and foremost a teenage girl--stubbornly honest, touchingly vulnerable, in love with life. She imparts her deeply secret world of soul-searching and hungering for affection, rebellious clashes with her mother, romance and newly discovered sexuality, and wry, candid observations of her companions. Facing hunger, fear of discovery and death, and the petty frustrations of such confined quarters, Anne writes with adult wisdom and views beyond her years. Her story is that of every teenager, lived out in conditions few teenagers have ever known.

We were standing in the very home where:

On the morning of August 4, 1944, sometime between ten and ten thirty, a car pulled up at 263 Prinsengracht. Several figures emerged; an SS sergeant, Karl Josef Silverbauer, in full uniform, and at least three Dutch members of the Security Police, armed but in civilian clothes. Someone must have tipped them off.

They arrested the eight people hiding in the Annex, as well as two of their helpers...and took all the valuables and cash they could find in the Annex.

Upon their arrest, the eight residents of the Annex were first brought to a prison in Amsterdam and then transferred to Westerbork, the transit camp for Jews in the north of Holland. They were deported on September 3, 1944, in the last transport to leave Westerbork, and arrived three days later in Auschwitz (Poland).

Margot and Anne Frank were transported from Auschwitz at the end of October and brought to Bergen-Belsen, a concentration camp near Hannover (Germany). The typhus epidemic that broke out in the winter of 1944-1945, as a result of the horrendous hygienic conditions, killed thousands of prisoners, including Margot and, a few days later, Anne. She must have died in late February or early March. The bodies of both girls were probably dumped in Bergen-Belsen's mass graves. The camp was liberated by British troops on April 12, 1945.

It was so emotional because after reading this book, I felt so close to Anne. I felt like I knew her as a close friend and understood her on such a deep personal level. She was incredibly positive and had incredibly deep thoughts and understanding for a girl of 13 to 15 years old. Standing in that house, the victims of the Holocaust ceased to be statistics and became friends, just as I felt Anne Frank was.

We walked to a restaurant recommended by Matt and Abra (friends who lived in Amsterdam for a year for work a few years ago) and had beer and a warm goat cheese salad that was incredible. After not being able to eat salad in Africa, fresh vegetables were amazing! We walked along the canals, avoided the bicycles and took in the beautiful atmosphere on our way to the Van Gogh Museum.








The Van Gogh Museum taught us a lot about Van Gogh and shared his work. We enjoyed it and learned a lot about his life, but we were a little disappointed at how few of his pieces were on display. Adam mentioned the last time he was visiting, there were a lot of his drawings and sketches on display. Apparently these drawings are so fragile they are only on display once a year.




We walked toward the Heineken Brewery and confirmed it was closed for renovations and then met up with Max (my friend, Martha's, boyfriend who is living in Amsterdam for work) for a beer near Dam Square. We had a good time chatting and getting to see his awesome flat right on a canal in downtown. We were able to get on the roof through his flat and take in the skyline.








We'd made dinner reservations at Matt and Abra's favorite restaurant in the Jordaan neighborhood. We got beer, champagne and the tapas platter that included dates wrapped in bacon, red peppers stuffed with goat cheese, marinated mushrooms, meatballs, bread with dip, cheese, salami and a few other delectable tidbits. It was unbelievable!

As we were walking back to the hotel we happened to pass Matt and Abra's old flat. Then, we headed over to the Red Light District. What a sight to behold -- sex shops, live sex shows, and prostitutes of all sizes, shapes, colors and ages. They stand in their red-lighted window in lingerie, with a bed, a sink and a shower in the room behind them. Some are lazier than others, but generally, they stand in the windows and kind of dance or they beckon men over.

We made our way back to the hotel dodging rain drops and crashed as soon as we got back. It was a LONG day. Tomorrow we catch our flight to Munich for Oktoberfest!