No Fault in These Stars

I cannot post this entry in good faith without starting off with my favorite John Green quote regarding Amsterdam:
“Some tourists think Amsterdam is a city of sin, but in truth it is a city of freedom. And in freedom, most people find sin.”


My first impression of Amsterdam itself (once we got out of Schipol) was very much how John Green described it: suddenly, there it was. It wasn't a smack in the face, though--it was much more subtle than that. It quietly established itself and made you look.

Given that we had already had a helluva day waking up at an hour I'd prefer to purge from memory and then traveling for many hours straight only to reach a very cold and grey Amsterdam and an increasingly sick me, the calmness of Amsterdam was theraputic. Except in the bike lanes. For the love of everything holy, do not step into the red area ever. A pack of bicyclists will ring their dreaded bells at you and run you down (and you deserve it)! Furthermore, there are easily more bikes than people in this city...but I digress. ;)

OUT OF HIS WAYYYYY!

Our hotel's staff was incredible. The hotel was lovely, don't get me wrong, but the staff made it for us. Upon arrival, we were immediately offered a drink on the house. Me being sick, I took a much-needed (and well-loved) cuppa while Uri actually took advantage and nabbed a pretty good rose. Our absurdly helpful hotel attendant proceeded to equip us with a much better map than the one we had purchased (it was a walking tour and sounded nice, okay?) and give us the rundown of best things to do. In perfect English. Now you may expect that of someone working at a hotel. English is the language of travel and very much an international language. But no, you don't understand! Everyone speaks perfect English. It made our jaws drop. No one should be allowed to speak English this well! I'll confess for the both of us that it made our lives ever so much easier, especially when I got sick as a dog.

I woke up the next morning feeling like death warmed over (and I'm told I looked about that good). The vicious cold of the British Isles had solidly taken hold and aimed to keep me in bed on the prettiest day I think I'd ever seen (prettiest since Miami, anyway!). My poor boy was torn between keeping me alive and trying to get me out on this most beautiful of days; I couldn't be happier the latter occurred!

After struggling through breakfast, getting through a pharmacy's door (really, don't ask), and pumping me full of meds and napkins (sadly not tissues...), we set off to the Anne Frank House at a leisurely pace. We just walked around holding hands and taking it all in. Amsterdam is seriously so pretty it hurts! And I want their interior designs, all of them! I'll take the exteriors while I'm at it, or perhaps Amsterdam and I can come to some sort of agreement whereby they give me a canal house that's already decorated. I'll settle for that.

The Anne Frank House was really something else. I've toured houses, I've toured more museums than I can shake a stick at, but this was a bit different. I know this comparison will draw some ire, but the closest thing for me was touring Mercer House in Savannah---namely, I've read all about this place and I'm finally there. I get to see everything I've read so much about, everything I feel like I already know, but what always catches me off guard is the sense that you're intruding. Even when all the furniture is gone, the occupants (tragically) passed, the feel of a museum so apparent in many place, you still feel like you're creeping around someone else's house and looking at their things and their pictures and drawing your own conclusions about their life that, at least in the case of Anne and Jim Williams, they wanted people to know. It really was shocking to see such an unassuming place that means so much to so many people (if we didn't see the line, we would've missed it!). Just go.

More walking! Europe actually makes me want to walk---you don't just feel like you're getting somewhere, you are! That's how we found ourselves at Dam Square! And then a cafe for lunch and fresh mint tea and, seriously impressive beer.

I won't bore you with more inane details of our walking around, but I will say that an all-day tram pass and your two feet are the best for Amsterdam. Also have a very minimal plan...and scrap it! Just walk. It's incredible what you'll find!

I just love this little house crammed in! You know what else I love? How the houses never quite seem straight and how sometimes floors seem to disappear into one another...someone call the Fringe Division!

FOUND IT!

Museumplatz :)

Aaaaaand from our first night's walk...

I don't know what was going on here, but we like it!

Isha approves!

Westerkerk! Just down the street from the Anne Frank House.

This one is my favorite. :)

Okay, guys, my favorite part: FOOD. Honestly, do I love talking about anything in a city more than food?!
First night: Moeders. It means "Mothers" and they mean it! You get pictures of everyone AND their mother (but mostly their mother. Possibly naked, possibly pregnant, possibly both!) along with incredible hospitality and mom-sized portions of mom-good food. Everything is eclectic from ceiling to table---the tableware is mismatched deliberately and is donated by people just because. Bring a picture of your mother--they'll put it on the wall for you (see: what we'll do when we come back!). Shoot, if I had one of my plates with me from Bucks, I would've given it to them! Uri had Father's short ribs and I had the sauerkraut hotch potch. Guys, guys, you cannot go wrong! The ribs were nearly falling off the bone and the hotch potch was an enormous best-of for Dutch cooking...with a MOUNTAIN of mashed potatoes! Though I tried and stuffed myself, I wreaked havoc on the outer ring but had to leave half the mountain. Naturally Uri cleaned his plate and we both rolled around afterward. YOU NEED TO EAT HERE. 

Anniversary night: This was a study in when Yelp goes wrong/how much we miss free internet in a foreign country! We had a reservation at a place that was supposedly French and got rave reviews on Yelp. Well...we won't speak for the food, but the interior spoke to us. "Hell nah" is what it said. And so we walked and talked and walked and searched and just as we were about to give up hope that we'd find the upscale and romantic yet still affordable restaurant, we found Red. Actually, we honestly found a door and windows that contained a very nice restaurant inside. No name, no menu outside, just the well-lit door. Obviously we must go in! The waitress greets us in Dutch and quickly switches to English. We ask to see a menu, are told it's in Dutch, and the waitress says she'll translate. "We serve steak and lobster," she announces, handing us a menu.
"Steak...and lobster?"
"Yes, that is all. We have a surf and turf not on the menu for ___."
Uri and I trade looks. I really want to stay, but I can't tell if he does, too...
"We have a table open until 8:30..." [it's around 7 at this point]
And we took it. We gloriously took that lovely table for two at the window overlooking the canal with the green velvet chairs and the happiness and the sheer awesomesauce that is Red. I got the Canadian lobster (eh?!) and Uri got steak so tender he could cut it with a fork (and proceeded to do so).

Meet my dinner.

We shared pomme frites and a salad as well as the most incredible lemon tart in existence. If you're only going to serve two items on your menu, you have got to do it well...meet Red. *drool*

Isha and Uri's must-hits:

• Anne Frank House
• Dam Square
• Van Gogh Museum
• The Museumplein in general
• Flea markets!
• Moeders Restaurant
• Vondelpark :)

The last bullet is of incredible importance to the both of us. We read a fantastic book called The Fault in Our Stars by Nerdfighter and Vlog Brother John Green that was partially set in Amsterdam and honestly, it was the big reason we went to Amsterdam in the first place. He was right about a lot of things in Amsterdam and it's because of reading this book that I wanted to go to the Vondelpark. We set off after Red (and a tissue reload at the hotel---I'm still sick, remember!) and arrived to near darkness and quiet. The main path was very well-lit (and prone to cyclists), but other than that it was quite difficult to see much of anything. We did find a lovely church, though, and attempted to take a picture of it.

Nooop.

Still noop.

Getting there...but this is painful! Trust us when we say this was a beautiful building.

At any rate, we veered off the main path onto a quaint little bridge that I'm sure would have been just darling in the daylight. Uri suddenly asks if we can get a shot of that church from where we were. I go further down the bridge and announce no, we cannot, but as I turn around...


He's on one knee.


I said yes, by the way. :)))))))))))))))

And honestly, that's really all there is to "the story". It's not the grandest or the most cunning or any other superlative, but it wouldn't have been Uri and it wouldn't have been us. I know I couldn't be happier! :)))))

Our expectations for Amsterdam had been largely shaped by other people. Some claim crazy, some claim hazy, some claim sinful, some claim gorgeous. We claim engaging.

Cheers!