Our first stop of the day was the remarkable Anne Frank House, the museum located in the house that Anne, her family and four others hid during the Nazi occupation of The Netherlands. I’m sure most folks have read her diary at least once. Having her story told in the actual rooms that she lived in, pasting pictures of movie stars on the walls, and writing about her unimaginable life, transormed me into her world. Before our visit to the house, we joined a small group for a lecture about Anne and Amsterdam during the war. Photos and artifacts were part of this experience, which layered more context and emotion on our visit to the house. That visit almost didn’t happen when George and I, at the end of the line of participants, were accidentally locked out of the museum area, stuck in the hallway of the education building. We just weren’t fast enough to catch the door (what with George’s gimpy gait) when the people in front of us closed it. Five minutes later, we were rescued, right before I was ready to set off the alarm by exiting through the emergency door.
Anne’s hideout. What can I write? I was struggling with tears during the entire tour, especially from her words, lettered on to all of the walls, reminding visitors of her presence, her fears and her hopes for the future. Walking through the secret door into the annex took my breath away. How was it possible for these families to live hidden for two years, unable to make any noise for fear of being found? Her room, which she wrote about in her diary, was decorated with little pictures of movie stars and other typical adornments of a 15-year-old’s room. Peeking on to the forbidden garden out of the annex windows was heartbreaking. And finally, in the last room of the museum, I saw the diary itself. It looked like any diary that any child would have. It was extraordinarily regular. Anne was not regular, however, and her hopes of being a writer, of writing about the annex, changed us all.
Here’s the part where I’ll talk about pancakes. The Nether kind. Dutch, I suppose. If you haven’t had the pleasure of receiving a large plate-sized pancake, adorned with anything from lemon and sugar to spinach, pine nuts and goat cheese (my choice today), then you need to get on a plane and come eat them now. During both of my trips to Italy, I committed to having gelato every day (I know, quite the sacrifice) and now, the rule is a pancake a day. Today we ate at the appropriately called Pancake restaurant right by Anne Frank. This is one of the several restaurants I’ve noticed that no longer accept cash - only credit cards. So in Holland, pay with cash in the grocery store and don’t forget your card when eating out. Got it? Good.
Amsterdam gave us more whirlwind weather during our next adventure, the too-close-for-comfort canal boat tour. We were seated right behind the boat driver, and Mom in particular, had her face maybe 6 inches from the driver’s butt the entire time. It rained and umbrellas came out. Then is was sunny and a bit too hot and steamy. Finally, the wind picked up and storm clouds threatened again, just in time for disembarking. We actually learned a lot of interesting history of Amsterdam from our guide even if we traveled with his butt as our close companion.
The Chesse Musuem was our next stop. Really, this was a cheese shop, with a little, amusing “museum” in the basement, which depicted different cheese-making methods and large replicas of cheese wheels and cows. Enjoyable. But not as enjoyable as the samples of cheese in the shop. Truffle Gouda? Yes please. How about the two year aged Gouda? Uh-huh. And Gouda infused with olives. Dang. I purchased cheeses a plenty, and cuz I’m a nice mom, sent several to Alex back in Minnesota. You’re welcome, Alex.
Our last stop was the Homomonument. It is a series of three pink marble triangles placed between the Westerkerk Church and the Keizersgracht canal, each at a different level (canal, ground, above ground). According to the reliable source called Wikipedia, “It commemorates all gay men and lesbians who have been subject to persecution because of their homosexuality.” It opened in September 1987 and was “the first monument to commemorate gays and lesbians who were killed by the Nazis.” When we visited, a small offering of flowers and a candle were left by the canal, commemorating someone who was loved. Right next to the Homomonument was Pink Point, a tourist info center and gift shop for the LGBT+ community. We met the friendly proprietor, who helped George pick out the exactly right trinkets and even assisted Mom, who bought a mini trans flag and another flag of Amsterdam, which has three X markings on it, which, according to the I Amsterdam website is three vertical St. Andrew’s Crosses, not (as some assume), shorthand for the red light district. It was also called “the most badass city flag in the world” by Roman Mars during a popular TED talk. This post has really been researchy, huh? Don’t want to get my facts wrong about Anne Frank or the XXX flag.
Tired after our cheesy, weepy, deeply moving day, we Ubered back to the house in Zaandam and realized we had no dinner. Shops here are 1/2 mile away and we were wiped out. So, delivery it was - and the only option I could find that had an English menu was Domino’s Pizza. Come to Amsterdam, eat Domino’s. It was interesting though. We enjoyed Gouda Bites and Mini Pancakes as part of our westernized dinner. Both good. But really, just Domino’s good. Better planning next time.
George resting before our tour
Anne (youngest), her sister Margot and her father Otto
Museum exhibit - did you know that Jewish people were not only forced to wear this star, but also to buy it?
This boy, who brought his favorite toy, was waiting to board a cattle car for transport to hell
A view from the storefront at the Anne Frank House
Our boat companions
A little butt in the face action
Typical view from the canals
Heading under another bridge
How’s that for a tiny home? (Second from left)
Moody sky near our stopping point at Anne Frank
Beautiful Amsterdam
Very Gouda Museum
Cheese-making stuff?
The cow and its cheese
Homomonument
Left for a loved one
Pink Point, next to the Homomonument
Shameful Americanish / Netherish dinner
Cheese sounds amazing, Anne Frank house sounds incredibly challenging. Reminds me of my visit to the Holocaust Museum in D.C.
ReplyDeleteNo shame in that Dominoes!! Sometimes you just have to go with the most convenient option. :D
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