Last summer, when Amsterdam, capital of Netherlands beckoned, I had
four days to explore the city. I had only one thing in my mind - visit
to an old friend's house - rest all was left to chance and mood,
obviously of my wife.
Accompanied by my wife and our toddler, I stepped into Netherlands,
one of the most technologically advanced countries in the world, only to
be welcomed by hordes of cycles. The sight got me wondering if I was in
Europe or the streets of a smalltime Indian town. For the fitness crazy
Dutch, cycling seems to be more an obsession than a mode of travel. I
saw flocks of septuagenarians speeding on their toys through the main
streets. Watching women over eighty peddling past teenagers was a
veritable feast to my eyes. I was amazed every time I saw that scene and
it inspired me to walk a few steps with a better posture!
I must add the following baffling facts here. Total population of
Amsterdam is 7.8 lac, number of bicycles is 7 lac. Every year 50,000 get
stolen and 25,000 end up in the canals!
We two decided to explore the city on the first three days and the
last day would be left for my sole exploration and secret mission. I had
to first find the way to her (my friend's) house so I decided to roam
along the streets and lanes and trace her house.
I finally didn’t take the streets and lanes, because interlaced by
167 canals, water trails make the most convenient travel option in
Amsterdam. It is an attractive tourist-friendly city, which was a focal
point of global trade during the 17th century and even now it retains
its place among world’s prime cities. In spite of thronging tourists
(it’s a major European stop over) Amsterdam’s environment is pleasant
and unpolluted.
We did the bulk of our travel through cruises on the water trails.
The canals were wide, lush (at many stretches). The best views of the
city’s elegant heritage mansions and modern edifices are found only on
the diverted waters of the Amstel. The prettiest scene from the cruise
boat is to watch the house boats. There is so much space on the water
front (and the land is so expensive) that many people live in these
well-roofed and mostly elegant looking floating dwellings.
For me the idea of people spending 24 hours on these parked roofed
boats was most fascinating. I gaped at them all to find men reading
newspapers, women cooking or walking across, kids engrossed in playing,
it was fun. Good thing about these house boats is that you can shift
them too (and to add to the luxury you don’t have to flush the toilets).
Wow, I loved them all and was too jealous about the people living in
them. If Mangalore was like this, I could have parked my house boat, one
day at Kinnigoli and another at Mangalore and sometimes I could take it
to Manipal to evade all people whom I owe loans. When the lady in the
neighborhood quarreled with me I could shift to a new location. Then a
scary thought came, when my much-demanding son grows into a young man,
he would make me shift my house every time he finds new girl friends. I
was curious to know if my friend lived in a house or a houseboat though.
Amsterdam has 42 museums, we visited three of them. Rijk museum is
housed in an edifice well deserving the Dutch National Museum. Here lay
the exceptional masterpieces of Dutch masters of the Golden age.
Priceless works of Rembrandt, Vermeer, Hals and Jan Steens are flaunted
here. Vangogh museum exclusively houses the Dutch master’s myriad
collection of works. Schuttersgalerij sports an array of painting from
an era gone by. Though these painting are not considered masterpieces
they touchingly depict centuries of human life in Amsterdam in a vivid
visual manner. They take us centuries back and allow us to soak in the
days gone by.
Dam square is the heart of the city; it has a monument in the middle,
ample space all around and elegant building all along its brim. People
swarm here in the evenings and relax silently or watch artists from
across the continent performing their craft. Horse ridden, gorgeous
women police are a must watch for beauty lovers (which every man is).
The horses too are gorgeous! Then I remember my friend was a gorgeous
little lady too, her smile was real pretty and unforgettable,
thankfully, by now I had a clear idea about where she lived.
Second day we visited villages of rural Holland and saw the fine
looking wind mills wore the wooden shoes and tasted many of the dozens
of flavors of cheese. We visited afew conspicuous landmarks like the
boat-shaped science museum Nemo and the biggest floating Chinese hotel
in the world. In the night we strolled across Rembrandtplein (Rembrandt
square) which is a hub of night life. Dutch music wafting out of the
beer houses was alluring, as much as the beer! This is a place to quench
the thirst of both your throat and your soul.
Third day we strolled across Albert Cuyp market and Amsterdam flea
market. They have all sorts of memorabilia you want to buy and many more
things which you don’t need but would be tempted to buy. I bought
things my ever-shrinking pockets could allow. Floating flower exhibition
centre was the second most splendid thing to happen to me in Amsterdam
(first, visit to my friend, of course).
Holland is known as “The land of Tulips and Dykes” and you know it
why when you come here. Flowers of thousand hues, shapes and varieties
soothe your eyes, enliven your mood and compel you to keep staring at
them. They even beg you to fall in love, buy them and give them to your
beloved. I bought some real bulbs for my beloved wife and my beloved
wife bought some seeds to be planted in Mangalore. As fate would have
it, the nasty Kinnigoli weather devastated our poor little seeds and my
wife’s grand scheme to make Kinnigoli, “The Amsterdam of India” was
nipped in the bud (pun intended).
Evening stroll in Vondel Park was a rejuvenating moment for three of
us. I doubt if many other cities of this stature have such lush space
close to their heart. We cherished the stay and stroll here amidst lush
greenery and serene soothing weather. However, we needed to be careful
enough to stay away from cycling tracks in the park to avoid getting
knocked down by a speeding eighty year old.
Third night I discovered that Amsterdam is a city of paradox. On one
side it has best of the modern amenities and infrastructure while on the
other its old time flair retains it grandeur. It’s a city where old
survives with the new, and extremely liberal trading ways co-exist with
Dutch practical sensibility. After seeing some elegant churches (both
catholic and protestant) I had the distressing experience of having a
glance at red street. Red light street is avoidable to the meek and
modest (being an over curious visitor I didn’t skip it). Freedom to sell
and consume drugs is another luxury that Amsterdam allows you, name any
drug; you have it for an affordable price!!!
Then the final day arrived. I convinced my wife that she deserved
good rest and I was alone going on an adventure!!. I had to do it as by
now it was clear that visiting my friend needed long waits as she had
now become a celebrity!.
Her name was Anne, I knew her from teenage days at Pompeii high
school, and the prospect of visiting her house that too in a distant
land was electrifying one for me. It’s understandable I guess, when you
are amidst millions of unfamiliar faces your heart jumps at the scene of
a familiar one, even if he is your worst enemy in the village or the
teacher who failed you vainly in 7th class. When it is someone you treat
as a childhood sweet heart and for whom there is space in your heart;
the craving is really profound. Not wanting to lose much time I took the
boat to Prinsengracht by 7.30 in the morning.
My heart beat faster as I saw her name on the house. It was close to
Westekerk, the tall and elegant church. With my heart pounding heavily I
finally stepped into her house with overwhelming nostalgia and
expectations. There, when I raised my head I saw her face. It was same
face and same old innocent adolescent smile. Her eyes still sparkled and
that hue of shyness so characteristic of little women in their early
teens was unmistakably present. I kept looking at her. She too kept
smiling!
My steps took me all around her house; I walked along her footsteps
into every room that she lived in, the desk she used to write, the
places where those wonderfully simple, clear and truthful thoughts
emerged into her little and young budding writers mind. Her face kept
smiling, her sweet memories rushed back into my mind, and it was hard
not to feel the lumps at my throat. The visit helped me to realize
better about her life at “her house”.
It was great to find someone who was a friend for 20 long years. She
was close to me, close enough to let me read her diary, “The diary of
Anne Frank”. It’s hard not to fall in love with her and her thoughts
after reading it. Even today she stays the voice of the oppressed, and
represents the loss at human/family level when great wars are waged and
great pogroms are schemed.
Visit to “Anne Frank House” is a must when you are in Amsterdam.
