For the third and final time, I made my way from my flat to the Brussels City Tour office. I let a little early so I could make a stop at the Starbucks in the Grand-Place. (They really do seem to have an uncanny knack at wedging themselves into history. Remember the one right next to the Louvre and the other beside the entrance gate to the Canterbury Cathedral?) I picked up my demitasse mug then because the night before I changed my plans for day 17 and wanted to ensure my purchase. It took nearly no time at all to drop the little mug back at my flat so that I did not have to carry it all day, so little time in fact that I decided to splurge on a coffee as I returned that way.
Even though I still had plenty of time, I gave myself a mild panic attack and ended up running with my cup over to the office. Yes, I did spill a little on my hand but not much. After I got my wristband, yet another color, I remembered that we can’t take coffee on the bus so I had to finish while I waited, not my brightest idea.
The ride to Amsterdam took the longest of any of my guided tours on the trip but I did not mind. As the trip progressed, I kept falling behind on journaling, typical for me on these trips. I used this time to try to catch up and shake my head at the fact that once again I relied on the weather channel app which predicted sunny skies and left my rain cover at the flat. The rain began halfway through our journey so I kept hoping that we would drive through it. Our guide also provided semi-sporadic commentary partly about the territory we passed and partly about Dutch history. I really enjoyed it.
About half an hour outside of Amsterdam, we stopped once at a traditional windmill that had been turned into a personal home and then a minute or so later at a traditional Gouda cheese farm. The guide said something about needing to make sure that the driver complied with EU regulations regarding drive time but we did not stop on the way back so I’m not sure why we stopped. No matter. I loved the stop, even if the owner made a few too many comments that came a little too close to objectifying all the ladies on the tour.
When we finally reached the shop, I knew that I wanted to buy one of those wheels of cheese, the smallest of course for both size and price reasons. After consulting one of the workers to make sure that I could transport the cheese safely to the US without fear of confiscation by customs, I happily purchased one small wheel for Dad which I carried around in my bag for nearly two more weeks.
Once back on the bus, our guide promised a half hour bus tour before our walking tour. I suppose that his narration about the sites that we passed on our way to the drop off point might qualify as a bus tour but usually for those, the driver chooses a specific path to pass by specific sites. I saw no such effort by our driver but enjoyed the “tour” nonetheless.
Our fairly large group stuck together on the walking tour with the one guide repeating in Spanish what he had just said in English. This particular guide also had a lot to say at each stop that we made which meant that the Spanish version doubled the already long amount of time we stood at each stop. I hung out on the fringes of the group each time, half listening to the English version before wandering out of earshot – but not eyesight – during the Spanish version to take as many photographs as I could. I do not remember anything he told us about the four or five places we stopped partly due to the elapsed time since I took the tour but more likely due to my inattention.
Our last stop brought us to a massive square with quite a few landmarks including a World War II memorial, the last site I visited later that day, a couple historic churches, the Royal Palace Museum, and a lot of shops. Our guide stopped and told us a few things, like how to get to the Anne Frank house even though we did not have a chance at getting in, places we could go to get lunch, and a little bit of information about the historical significance of some of the buildings that comprised the square’s borders. When I believed he had finished the English portion, I took a few steps away from the group but paused when I heard him declare an end to the English portion of the walking tour. Seriously? I barely resisted the urge to check my watch. The walking tour lasted barely half an hour and it only lasted that long because he liked to talk and said everything twice.
I shrugged off my surprise and made a beeline for the Starbucks we had passed between our last and next to last stop. After spotting it, I had made a concerted effort to remember how to get back there which paid off because I got mildly turned around only once. Unfortunately, this Starbucks had no city branded demitasse mugs. I still had six more hours until I had to return to the meet up point for the journey back so I took advantage of the free wi-fi to find another Starbucks. I would have to walk a fair bit to get there but no matter. I would get to see Amsterdam as I did.
This turned out to be the most fortuitous decision I could have made. The sun shone brightly overhead as I strolled along one of Amsterdam’s many canals. A few minutes into my stroll, I stopped to purchase a stroopwafel, the sticky, syrupy sweet nearly overwhelming my senses when combined with the sight of the bright, blossoming flowers along the canal and the sun glinting off the metal of all the bikes lining the sides of the street.
As I approached my destination, I stumbled across a park full of life size silver statues garbed in Dutch explorer/soldier garb, most placed in front of a much larger, bronze statue of Rembrandt. Of course, I became a bit giddy at the sight. Little did I know that several months later, this serendipitous discovery would make a second appearance in my life when I read the fantastic book, The Girl in the Blue Coat, a book set in WWII Amsterdam. I love when my passions collide. (Unfortunately, I somehow did not take a photograph of these statues.) This happy discovery dulled the disappointment that this second Starbucks also had no city-branded demitasse mugs.
Rather than dwell on this disappointment, I headed back out into the bright sunny day to make my way back to the square and from there to the Anne Frank house so that I could say that I had at least seen the house even if I could not enter. I made one slight detour to cross one of the canal bridges so that I could take pictures of course. When I returned to the side I had previously walked on, I saw a third Starbucks, one I had completely missed and one that actually had the demitasse mugs! I left thankful that I had found this location on the way back because otherwise, I would never have stumbled on that Rembrandt statue.
Buoyed by the happiness of my accidental discoveries, I quickly made my way back to the square and then onto the street the guide said led to the Anne Frank house.
This narrower street passed over so many small canals, each bridge lined with bikes and each bringing a smile to my face. After a while though, I wondered how long I would have to walk before I got to my destination. No sooner did I start to wonder than the rain started to sprinkle down, a complete contrast to the earlier quite sunny day. In that moment, I tucked my camera into my bag, turned around, and headed back to the square; I could visit the Royal Palace and stay dry. I already knew that I needed to make a return visit; this simply sealed the deal.
The ray stayed at a light drizzle until I reached the Royal Palace. I entered, purchased my ticket and started to enter. The ticket taker stopped me and told me that I could not take my collapsible water bottle in, even if I emptied the water out. Um. No. I know myself. If I had left the bottle in the coat room as she instructed, that water bottle would now have Dutch citizenship. Instead, I went into the bathroom, dumped out the water and stuffed the bottle into my bag.
I absolutely loved the Royal Palace and everything I learned from the audioguide. For example, the Royal Palace was built as a city hall during the 17th century and converted to a palace, still used for the Dutch royal family, by Louis Napoleon – brother of that Napoleon – in the early 1800s. The first room, the Central Hall, had massive maps of the world as explored by the Dutch East India Company etched in the marble with viewing platforms for each. The walls of this hall boasted of incredibly ornate sculptures, both low and high relief such as a colossal relief of Atlas holding up the world.
The hallways around the Central hall held authentic maps and other illustrations from Dutch exploration and the rooms off each hall held fascinating royal history with some of the rooms currently used when the royal family chooses to inhabit this palace.
I spent so much time in the palace that I had to hurry through the last few rooms, yet another reason for a return visit. The rain had not disappeared but remained at a level light enough that I could comfortably get a few pictures of the World War II memorial as well as some fries in a cone that I had seen people with all day to eat as I made my way back to the meet up point.
I did not remember the exact way back to the train station, the meet up point, so I ended up walking right through the Red Light district with my fries! Once I got to the station, I had finished my fries but the rain believed that a signal to start up again so I huddled under a tree with a delightful mother daughter pair from Australia for our bus, held up in traffic. Once the bus arrived, we waited another 20 minutes for one lady before making our way back into a vibrant, lively Brussels with hundreds of people out for their own adventures. My adventures for the day and the next awaited in the morning so I headed to the flat to pack and prepare for those adventures, ones that I did not quite expect.