Amsterdam, June 2 - 4, 2014

After crossing the Channel (la Manche) Monday from Dover to Dunkirk (Dunkerque), we arrived in Amsterdam and checked into an airport hotel that offered some relief from the city’s sky-high parking rates.  A bicycle is one alternative, the choice of most Amsterdamers, but we opted for public transportation.  With a city bus stop next to the hotel, we could arrive downtown in 20 minutes.

Infinitesimal portion of Amsterdam's bikes

Our first priority was the Rijksmuseum, which we had last visited in 2006, when it was closed for restorations designed to recreate its late 19^th century interior.  The result was impressive, especially the central axis on the main floor, which brought visitors through world-famous works by Hals, Vermeer, Rembrandt, and other Golden Age Dutch painters to the sanctum sanctorum, the room with Rembrandt’s “Night Watch.”

Renovated Rijksmuseum from canal

Outside Rijksmuseum’s entrance

Vermeer

Watching “The Night Watch”

Mae West reportedly said, “Too much of a good thing is just wonderful,” but Amsterdamers apparently feel an occasional need to blow off the adoration laid at the feet of the Golden Age.  This feeling may have led to the mural below, hopefully executed with apologies to Frans Hals, who painted such group portraits in a much more serious vein.  We encountered this oeuvre when dining with our Washington friends Phyllis Bonanno and Evan Berlack, with whom we had arranged to meet in Amsterdam.

Mural from wall of dining room at Pulitzer Hotel

Drinks with Evan and Phyllis outside Pulitzer Hotel dangerously close to canal

The weather in Amsterdam was so rainy that we focused on indoor activities, including the Van Gogh Museum, where the staff handed out umbrellas to the art lovers standing in the drizzle.  We had visited this superb collection before, but this time we took advantage of an hour-long lecture by a museum curator, who told us a number of things we had not known about Vincent.  The rain dissuaded us from visiting the city’s famous flower market, but we were able to view some fantastic blooms in one of the few sunny moments.

Of course, our sense of civic duty required us to check out the cannabis scene, which had existed well before Colorado and Washington State legalized the weed.   The pot dispensaries advertise themselves as “coffee houses,” but a caffeine addict would never confuse them with Starbuck’s.   We took the picture below, but—unlike Maureen Dowd—we did not sample the wares.  Of course, Maureen is paid for doing such things.

“Coffee house” on Prinsengracht