Restoration Work Being Done at the Museum Ons' Lieve Heer op Solder in Amsterdam, Holland.
I stood at the KLM ticket counter in disbelief: after waking up at 4:00 am to get to the Bergen airport, I’m told my reservation has been changed to 1:15 pm. Huh? The small airport is jam packed with travellers and the gate is inching closer and closer to closing time.
Bergen Flights
The KLM lady is determined to get me on the plane and doesn’t know why I was bumped off, but she can’t get through to change my ticket because no one’s at the office this early.
After much finagling, she manages to override something and get me on the plane (sorry, but I have to be vague about that). A security guard escorts me through all the checkpoints, we both rush through security and I waltz onto the plane as they announce the gate is closing. Magic, KLM, magic.
Amsterdam for the First Time
What this gave me was an 8-hour layover in Amsterdam, a city I had never been to before except for many stops at its airport (which rivals Vancouver as my favourite).
Before all parting ways to do our own thing, the group of us take the train into the city for a pancake breakfast. A walk past the line up-heavy Anne Frank House brings us to Café de Prins. The pancakes weren’t very good but the setting along the canal was the perfect way to re-start the day.
Jordaan, Amsterdam
From there I went for a long stroll through the Jordaan neighbourhood, which I came across by accident and which has become my favourite part of Amsterdam.
Stepping outside of the busy parts of the city, Jordaan is filled with quiet streets, tiny cafes and boutiques, people chatting in the middle of the road, and those picturesque plants hanging out of windows.
A quiet street in the Jordaan neighbourhood of Amsterdam, Holland.
Red Light District
After a nice canal boat tour back in the central tourist part of Amsterdam, I had just enough time to walk through the red light district. A little nervous, this being my first time, I started out in the direction of the area. The dork that I am, I got lost, peering down streets hoping, yet kind of hesitant, to see women standing provocatively in the doorways.
I then run into one of the other writers and he laughs when I tell him I’m in search of the red light district. “You’re a few streets off,” he tells me. Gentleman that he is, he accompanies me a few blocks over where we see a mom holding the hand of her 8-year old daughter walking through the street. Hmmm, I guess we’ve arrived?
A Quiet Street in the Jordaan Neighbourhood of Amsterdam, Netherlands.
Mostly I just felt confused passing by the women. It was during the day and life continued on as usual. Young guys stood at the corner snickering amongst themselves, goading each other on (I guess to go take a peek; they looked too young for the ladies to actually take seriously); tourists walked by staring, probably telling their Twitter followers where they had just been; and then there was me, feeling like every time I made eye contact with a gal, I was intruding into her personal life.
Except, her personal life was barely covered, inviting and for sale. So strange.
Amsterdam Central Station
We turned the corner and walked to the station to catch our train back to the airport. Within a couple of hours we were seated on the plane and departing for Vancouver, a world away.
Read more articles about Amsterdam here.
(I travelled as a guest of the Eurail Group and Netherlands Board of Tourism & Conventions.)
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