Despite leaving my voice in Paris, I managed to flee the city for the first time since arriving (not counting going home). Making use of Paris' great inter-city rail connections, I (finally) found Charlie at Amsterdam Centraal station and had a laaaavly (albeit rather croaky and sniffly, which I'm sure Bindels appreciated) weekend of cycling, stroopwaffels and freezing cold canals in Amsterdam!
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| Museumplatz, Amsterdam. Dangerously used as a climbing frame by too many. |
Amsterdam is distinctly smaller than Paris. There are less museums, exhibitions and historic buildings to admire. Instead of offering the same rich history as Paris, it is Amsterdam’s architecture that enthrals the visitor. The variety of gabled, terraced houses, narrow but deep, are every bit as beautiful as you’d expect. They line the canals, over which bridges cascade and cyclists steer around the dawdling tourists. The number of bikes made me feel nostalgic for Cambridge. Charlie and I did manage to fit one cycle ride in before the key for the lock went AWOL though.
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| Well heeded advice |
It was so great to have an insight into the life Charlie is living this year, and nice to be the one visiting, and not hosting, for a change! I even got to meet Charlie’s brother, who after three and a half years of knowing Charlie, I’d never met in person, and was starting to become slowly convinced that he was a fiction…what kind of (great) name is Polka!? We all went to the Van Gogh museum together. I hadn’t realised that lots of his paintings have faded so much over time that the original colours have been lost; the irises used to be purple, before they turned to the blue we see them as today.
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| Charlie's foolproof au-pairing techniques |
Something which the Dutch seem to do really well is flea markets. Although Paris apparently plays home to the largest flea markets in Europe, the ones Charlie took me to in Amsterdam were excellent, with a whole array of crazy stuff: ancient tennis rackets, ice skates, retro cameras, boxes of just scissors, which were unnerving…and they had teacups, which is the only thing I ever need from a market.
Despite having left the land of ze crepes, Holland is known for its poffertjes, little fluffy pancake puffs which you can smear with butter and maple syrup. Naturally, these little warming treats had to be tried, as did Dutch pancakes, and stroopwaffels.
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| Stoopwaffels! |
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| The Toilet Wall of Pancake Compliments |
We went to a lovely literary café called Café Brecht, a cosy little café that feels like a grandma’s living room, with tasselled lamps and chintz armchairs. It was here, being warmed by the Gluhwein, that we had a blast with Charlie’s polaroid camera, which captured the interest of some other local customers, who we struggled to communicate with: “Big.” “Yes.”
We also reached the life-changing decision during our trip to the House Boat museum that house boats are the accommodation of the future. The one we visited was very cute, had running water and apparently they’re pretty cheap. In Amsterdam, they have 2,256 houseboats on the canals, according to the canal boat trip we took one evening. However, all the moorings are full, so you have to wait for one to leave to make space. Maybe there’s some space on the Cam…
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| View from the houseboat |
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| Charlie and her soon-to-be new house? |
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| Our canal boat trip |
The village where Charlie is au-pairing is absolutely idyllic, and each morning the light streamed in through the tiny window in my attic room, showing me the grassy fields and blue skies.
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| The view from her front door |
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| The Red Light District |
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| A booby trap, on the floor outside a church... |
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| Charlie really needed the toilet, so I made her stop to take lots of photos of a nice window. |
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| Chocolonely: for all your comfort-eating needs |
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