Amsterdam Wanderings: By Foot, By Bus, By Boat

The children in particular loved the canal house.  Henry and Elisabeth were on the top floor and took great pleasure in having their own room together, something I was a little nervous about.  While I was still scoping out the place, Elisabeth had neatly placed all her clothes and Henry’s clothes in two separate dressers and set her book on her nightstand.  Soon they were discussing a plan as to how to share the bed and not wake each other up too early.  We sealed the deal by offering them a movie night if they could have good nights and good mornings for two nights in a row.  Our expectations were obviously low, after their time of sharing a bed in Celle, but now they have raised them.  We heard, rather than saw, sibling love at its best--our room was directly underneath them.  Their arrangement was that they would stay asleep until 6:30 or at least stay in bed, some sources say.  If Elisabeth was still asleep at 7:00, Henry could wake her up.  They could both wake us up at 7:15.  This was all discussed in their serious and matter-of-fact voices which are quite endearing.

The first morning, at 6:15 I awoke to great giggling noises, and loud laughter from Henry.  I was not amused at the time, but in retrospect, it was sweet.  Apparently they were in bed and were making tents.  I guess we forgot to say they had to be quiet.  I tried to fall back asleep, but about 20 minutes later I heard sliding and banging.  They were opening drawers and getting dressed.  Elisabeth must have helped Henry with his shirt and socks.  That’s where the sisterly love comes in.  She can be very helpful with Henry when she wants to.  

With all the noise I had given up on sleeping by 7:00 and desired to go one floor lower to make coffee and have a bit more quiet.  But about 7:05 Elisabeth was downstairs.  “You’re early!” I nearly growled.  Not the reception a mother should give her daughter, but I was tired and grumpy (the good perspective on it all came later).  She very sweetly replied, “Oh, I’m just getting our activity books” and books in hand, she flitted back upstairs. I felt rather guilty after that.

The following mornings were quieter, minus the loud tent making, but with the continued drawers sliding.  As the days continued we marveled that the kids could get along so well and so sweetly in the mornings, but couldn’t walk down the sidewalk without pushing or colliding or refusing to hold each others hands or smile in the same picture.  So we heard a side of them that was delightful.  Maybe they should share rooms more often!

The first evening after dinner we decided to explore the neighborhood a little.  While it was picturesque to behold, walking on narrow side walks with a four year old was difficult to accomplish peacefully.  It seemed that one of the adults was always yelling at Henry to hold a hand or stay on the sidewalk.  I rashly resolved that this would be our last city visit.  Small towns only after this.  But by the second day Henry was much better at holding my hand, and I pointedly instructed him on the difference between sidewalk and street.  “This is a sidewalk.” walk, walk.  “Now we are crossing the street.  Now we are on the sidewalk.”  Sometimes the only difference between the two was a different color of bricks or a half inch step down.  A tough concept for a four year old.  

Wednesday morning, our first morning in Amsterdam, we headed with masses of tourists to one of many tour agencies.  I had reserved a tour ahead of time entitled “Van Gogh in Bloom.”  It included a trip to Keukenhof, the famous flower gardens, tickets to the Van Gogh Museum, and a canal boat tour.  Given the lines at museums and the craziness of the train station, we were happy to get on a tour bus and have a smooth drive to the gardens which were about an hour outside of Amsterdam.  A friend had recommended the tulip gardens to us, and said that they stayed for 2 1/2 hours, but wished they had stayed longer (you could reserve a bus tour that lasted 2 1/2 or 5).  At the time I thought that was crazy--how could our family stay at the gardens for 5 hours?  I don’t know, but 2 1/2 wasn’t quite long enough.  It was a little chillier than we expected, but the sun was bright, the grass emerald green and the tulips-on and on they went.  So many colors and varieties, such beautiful settings.  As our week in Amsterdam progressed and I got more settled in the city, I still found myself thinking longingly of the peaceful time in the gardens.  We all got the bug for taking pictures, even Elisabeth and Henry.  Elisabeth is showing some promise in her photo taking, and Henry is still figuring it out.  see example below.

Henry: the Early Period

That afternoon we took the canal boat tour, which again provided ample opportunity for picture taking.  We saved the Van Gogh visit for Thursday morning.

Since we were renting a house, we only went out for dinner two times while we were there, and once for lunch.  Our favorite restaurant was a tip passed along to us by our tour guide after we returned from Keukenhof.  She said, “You must go here”--and pointed to a small restaurant up ahead: De Keuken van 1870.  “They have a 3 course meal for 9.99 euro.  It is where all the locals go.”  That sounded great to us, so at dinner time we made our way back there.  The waitress was grumpy, but we each ordered the daily menu, and she gradually warmed up to us.  We started with cream of mushroom soup, an unlikely choice for kids, but they both enjoyed it and we loved it.  Next came guinea fowl and french fries.  Amazing.  It was like the best chicken you’ve ever tasted.  For dessert we had vanilla pudding.  Henry refused to even try a bite, but there was no problem in getting it eaten by others.