Sunday, May 7, 2017

Ah-Ah-Amsterdam 2017, Day 8

It is our last full day in A-dam and we’ve barely scratched the surface of the many museums here!  We’d better get busy.
First stop, het Scheepvaartmuseum or, the Maritime Museum.[1]  In our experience, maritime museums are great fun, and this one is no exception.  It is in an appropriately imposing granite structure that was built as a warehouse for the Dutch admiralty in 1656.  It is a great square, with a massive courtyard now covered by a modern skylight You can follow paths in each compass direction (noord, ost, and os on) of technology, vessels, the harbor, or “life on board,” and there is a splendid exhibit of random collections related to Dutch maritime history, that have been given to the museum over the years.  There are sextants and octants and maps and atlases and ship models and paintings and all manner of completely fascinating items connected to the intimate relationship that this little country has with the sea.  In many of the rooms, whoosh-y wave sounds play to enhance the oceanic atmosphere  EXCEPT in the navigation rooms, which are lit with pinpoint lights like stars and where New Age-y celestial sounds emanate from above. 
There are also vessels moored outside – a replica 17th c. Dutch East Indiaman named the Amsterdam and best of all, the Dutch royal barge, which is a spectacularly gilded affair that required 20 oarsmen to move the royals around the harbor on official business.  She was last taken out in 1962, on Queen Juliana and Prince Bernhard’s 25th wedding anniversary – they went for a little cruise – but remains absolutely pristine in her cozy drydock.  You can watch videotaped interviews with some of the now-aged rowers, all naval cadets at the time, and today dressed nattily in ties and blue blazers.  Years later, they emanate a certain delight and pride at their participation in a marvelously irrelevant moment of pomp and circumstance. 
Here on the Maritime Museum’s pier, we are momentarily distracted by a ballet of boats as a bridge rises on a nearby canal, a large barge moves out, a tourist boat slides out of the way, another barge and a dredger move into the canal, all deftly avoiding one another and keeping traffic moving.  The sight of the NEMO science museum just across the harbor, built to look like a giant supertanker rising out of the water, is another magnificent distraction. 
KT always knows the best places and her suggestion of lunch at the restaurant at the top of De Bijenkorf, the fanciest department store in town, continues this streak.  After that she shows us a cozy little bar where they serve only varieties of jenever, the local gin-like firewater, and then – wait for it – we hit two more museums!  The Tassenmuseum was Izzy’s choice but proves surprisingly interesting to everyone.  This is a museum of purses and accessories that counts more than 5,000 items in its collection, from medieval bags to trés chic and moderne designs.  There are bags that look like animals, vegetables, and minerals and there are bags made from animals, vegetables, and minerals, and the former are not always the same as the latter.  Then at the Prins Claus Fond, there is an exhibit of work by an artist named El Anatsui who makes great drape-y like creations out of caps and foil wrappers from bottles.  They are kind of mesmerizing, even if we do have to climb seven flights of stairs to see them all, as is the view into the Willet-Holthuysen House’s garden below.  And so we have come full circle. 
Our valedictory dinner is at another great fish restaurant, Lucius, where we dine on herring and halibut and salmon and monkfish and white asparagus and frites (natch) under the glow of a ginormous and beautiful salt-water aquarium.  Izzy silently names the fishies in the tank as she waits for her dinner.  Fortunately there are no herring or halibut or salmon or monkfish in the tank.  





[1] See what I mean about the Dutch language?  Just when you think you’ve got a handle on it, they throw something at you like Scheepvaart which apparently means Maritime. 

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