Thursday, April 25, 2019

Amsterdam/Belgium/London Day 2: Tulips and Other Surrealism



While we planned this trip around seeing some friends in Belgium, we timed this trip to see Holland’s storied tulips, in bloom for just six short weeks a year.  With a favorable weather forecast, we take the bus to Kukkenhof, one of the largest flower gardens in the world.  With about 80 acres in full bloom, it’s difficult to judge the number of times we literally said “Oooohhhh!” or “Pretty!” or “Wow!”  We wander the crisscrossing paths, understanding how hummingbirds are attracted from one intense color to the next with no regard for order.  We pollinate the gardens for several hours, taking far too many pictures and helpless not to take more.  I make no apologies for the number of those pictures included here.  To quote Ralph Waldo Emerson, and the only line from the only poem I remember from high school (sorry Mr. Delany, wherever you are), “beauty is its own excuse for being”. 

We get back for a late lunch on Leidseplein, a square ringed with an international array of outdoor cafes such as Dan Murphy’s and the Chicago Social Club. We choose Le Pub based partly on the front corner location but mostly on the availability of an Aperol spritz.  A delicious sandwich of Parma ham, pesto, fresh mozzarella and big basil leaves was an unexpected surprise.  Afternoon drinks accomplished, we head to the room for regrouping before the next leg of our adventure.

De Wallen is Amsterdam’s famous red-light district, with scantily clad women of all sizes, shapes and ethnicities displaying their wares from inside tiny glass brothel booths.  It’s also home to countless bars, weed fueled coffee shops, loud music of every genre and restaurants of all sizes, shapes and ethnicities displaying their wares from inside tiny glass windows.  In the middle of all that is Dabka, a well-reviewed Lebanese restaurant with small dining spaces upstairs, downstairs and out front.   The baba ganoush appetizer is served with a freshly baked loaf of bread the size of a throw pillow, which when pierced, reveals its steamy hollow center.  The hot, thin crust is perfect for scooping the garlicky roasted eggplant dish.  Falafel and a mixed grill platter rounds out our middle eastern dinner, letting us sample a good portion of the authentic, well executed menu.  A nightcap at the Old Sailor, a fun but well used pirate themed party bar playing tired mellow classic rock streamed through an Xbox in the heart of it all.  It’s like a fraternity party that’s been going on since 1972, but just not as clean.  Mandy tells me how much the bar is doing to be ecologically friendly, foregoing wasteful paper napkins in the ladies’ room for a single dish towel.  We wander back through the district.  It’s more side show then sexy, the women pouting and posing against the glass, but we have fun watching the whole scene, a scene that’s been going on since the middle ages.


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