Rose Garden (Amsterdam day 5)

Good morning dear reader. This Saturday morning saw Amsterdammers walking, jogging, cycling, playing netball, volleyball and soccer, doing yoga and any number of other unseen activities. That's not quite true. We did witness all of those activities in Vondelpark but it was closer to lunch than to breakfast. The locals we spotted this morning were all working, cleaning up from last night's festivities. The summer holiday is coming to an end this weekend apparently.

No reason and out of context. I just like birds.

Today is our first true lay-day of the trip because we have nothing organised except dinner at Momo. Why there? Well, Amex offered me money back on an overseas dining experience and Momo is all of 5 minutes walk from our hotel.

We slept late, well a little later and walked back to Café Luxembourg for breakfast. A walk through one of the bar/restaurant areas in the morning before it has re-opened, or before the street cleaners have through, can be confronting. I'm always amused that Paris is constantly criticised for being "dirty" and yet we have found Amsterdam to be less clean. Perhaps the street cleaning squads that work tirelessly have made the population complacent, but the morning detritus of broken bottles, discarded cans, fast food packaging, cigarette butts and more could not be missed by anyone who was out and about before 9am.

Random picture to break up the text. It's in Vondelpark. Nope. No idea.

Anyway, on to Café Luxembourg because I espied on their menu, when we were there yesterday, croque monsieur et madame. Who can resist ham and cheese and bechamel sauce? Not this little black duck as Daffy used to say. 

As you might imagine, dear reader, there was no trouble getting a table at this time of day. We were seated under the awning directly in front of the restaurant window in Paris style seating. The espresso shot to commence the day was welcome. My croque monsieur was as enjoyable as Jayne's croque madame. Ick. Egg. And the second coffee, a long espresso, capped a great breakfast.

The traffic and passing parade was commensurately reduced, given the time of day. But there were still the amusing antics of bike riders and pedestrians. A local homeless person walked unsteadily toward us, approached our table and leaned in, mumbling something in French I think, before being scared away by one of the wait staff. That was about as exciting as it got. Then off to Vondelpark to find the rose garden. Unlike the 1970 song by Lynn Anderson, we were promised a rose garden and I was determined to find it.

The man after whom the park is named.

The walk to the garden is a common path for us. However, the sights today were not. It's Saturday and all those bucks and hens parties from the UK had arrived over night and were wandering the streets of Amsterdam in hormone fuelled packs. Or were merely attempting to find their accommodation. It rekindled memories of Budapest. I can't imagine too many people on the continent are sad about Brexit. I don't know where this tradition commenced or how it has grown to what it is today, but cheap, trashy and tawdry is all I see. No pictures. I don't wish to encourage them.

Not a rose garden in sight

Did you guess? It's a fountain.

A home for the bees.

We walked one complete side of the park and refused to yield a rose garden. We paused for a few kodak moments, like the cat in the shrub. 

What are you doing puss? There are no birds there.

I watched it and I still have no idea what it was doing. Around the bottom of the park and heading for home, there were fountains and flowers and statues and finally a rose garden. It was well past its best, but you get the concept from the pictures. It would have looked quite spectacular a couple of weeks ago.

The other aspect of today was a new spectator sport. Our room overlooks a rent-a-bike establishment. I'm not sure who has the most fun, the people that work there or Jayne and me. Watching people observing the ruling, "it's like riding a bike" and then find that riding a bike is not so easy 40 years later has been a hoot. This morning, child gets on bike and rides off. Dad gets on bike, pedals, gets the death wobbles (at low speed) and falls over. Gets up, squares his shoulders, looks at his wife and wheels away very unsteadily. I've seen drunks negotiate a better line. Then mum, feeling superior and smirking away at her husband's indignity rides off with the stand down. She almost comes a cropper too, stops, kicks up the stand and pedals away. I'm just sad I can't see these people hit the cycleways of Amsterdam, the most unforgiving of paths. This scene, or something similar, was repeated with monotonous regularity. If only the hotel had a café or bar looking out onto this area. I'd be there as much as possible.

And so to dinner and Momo. Conceptually not our gig. It is certainly aimed at a demographic from which we have graduated. That said the food was amazing. We appreciated everything we ate, loved some, enjoyed some, thought some was next level. We didn't agree on every dish because we have different tastes. The sushi tempura prawn was next level, I could eat it all night. Jayne's favourite was the beef skewer. Service was attentive and helpful. If only we could transport this to a restaurant where there wasn't another hen's night party in the room or a DJ playing mindless music ... yeah, ok, I'll go to bed now.

Until tomorrow.