Wintertime in Amsterdam (Amsterdam)

It most certainly is not wintertime in Amsterdam dear reader, but I love Richard Clapton and it does have Amsterdam in the title and we're still here. It's from his classic 1977 album, Goodbye Tiger, one of my absolute favourites. In fact, the weather is anything but wintry. The usual jokes about Holland's one week of summer have disappeared and apparently snow is not common in Amsterdam anymore. The weather forecast today: hot. They nailed it.

Our group was the last to leave the Hilton this morning and there are four us staying at the Marriott. It is closer to the Old Town and the attractions. Aside from that it is a mystery.

It was our first full day under our own recognisance. Exciting. We enjoyed the cruise, but we prefer to move at our own pace and in our own direction, which today meant wandering the streets of Amsterdam. Literally.

The Rijksmuseum from across the canal.

We did have a vague plan. And a map. We wanted to scope out where we were, in relation to the tours we have booked: the Van Gogh Museum and Anne Frank House; and get a sense of the city itself and its layout. There is nothing like getting to know a place by walking its streets. We liked it. A lot. Despite it being the last week of the summer holidays for the locals and many others from the Northern hemisphere.

The atmosphere is relaxed. If you exclude the cyclists, the sweetest looking of whom can burst into a steroid-style rage, should you step in front of them. On a pedestrian crossing. Where you have right of way. Legally. They are crazy, with no regard for traffic laws, lights, crossings, your safety ... whatever. I've learnt to say some choice things in Dutch, so I can respond in kind.

The 650m long market

First stop was to check out the meeting place for the Van Gogh tour and from there, we navigated to one of the plethora of flea markets, dotted around Amsterdam. Actually, that's a bit harsh. Albert Cuypmarkt also does produce; vegetables, fruit, fish, cheeses and some meat. We purchased a stroopwaffle because that's a thing to do. Ours had the added enjoyment of a layer of nutella (not a fan). The whole experience was underwhelming, but, tick that box. We also purchased a couple of t-shirts.

Picturesque? Not so much.

The most visited park in Amsterdam is Sarphatipark. Who are we to argue? We went there next but we are still not sure why it is so popular. There was a really cool statue, but it was fenced off and the grass in the enclosed section looked very welcoming - the locals looked at its green lushness with wistful faces.

Off limits.

We then set off to explore a few shopping, café and bar areas, looking for a place in the shade where we could enjoy some food and alcohol. There were many, many options. After a reconnoître of the area known as Leidseplein, across the canal from our hotel, we stopped for the regulation beer with people watching, despite the fact that the spruiker identified us as American, then Canadian, then English and finally Kiwi before I dropped into a nasal, "Strewth mate". He was lucky I was hot, tired and thirsty otherwise there would have been no sale. After a refreshing pint of Heineken, we headed off up the main street towards the centre of Amsterdam, also known as Old Town.

A random find in a side street

By now, the whole of Amsterdam, and quite a few tourists, had converged on this area and we wove our way through the crowds, the killer bikes and the trams to reach an inner canal that is lined with a vast array of flower markets. Not the florist kind - bags and bags of seeds and bulbs, with some cacti and all kinds of souvenirs of tulips and other flowers.

Not quite what I was expecting.

We decided that it was time to seriously think about a late lunch/early dinner but, rather than try to navigate the crowds along the main street, we took a parallel backstreet and the cut back into the throng, further away from Old Town.

At one point, I thought we were in Italy. I've seen bigger streets in Italy with less Italian restaurants. Confronted by such choice, we did the obvious and selected an Italian restaurant. Part of the charm of a city like Amsterdam is people watching and Jayne scored gold on this round. Behind me, a gentleman arrived, sat and ordered his pizza. The crusts were authentic excellence, but not to his liking and he assiduously cut around the base, removing the crust and then ate the centre of his pizza, using the same knife and fork. His crust still ringed the plate as he departed. Ironically, he actually had curly hair...

The performance enhanced our enjoyment of dinner and some bruschetta, calamari, a pizza and a bottle of Montepulciano later, we walked home to the air conditioning of our hotel.

Our first day concluded with some serious rehydration, water and tea only, blogging and processing photos.

Until tomorrow.