Sterdam, the Dutch Baby

Sterdam who??
This and posters like it can be seen all over the city. I just couldn't get past the fact that this made no sense. Clever idea, but who is Sterdam? Of course, we know it's supposed to be short for I am Amsterdam but why couldn't they have just said that? Or, I'm Amsterdam. Instead, they leave us all puzzling over the possibilities for who Sterdam could be.



So, for the entire two days I was in Amsterdam, I had one song stuck in my head. Guess which one. Metallica’s Enter Sandman. Weird, I know. And just one line. “We’re off to never-never land,” except in my mind it was off to Nether Netherlands. And on that note, here's a bit about Amsterdam.



After wandering in and out of the airport in between train ticket booths and airport shutttles, Mutter, Vati and I finally jumped on a train and then it was a taxi to the hotel. Conveniently, Mutter met a friend that then shared our taxi with us. He was a nice old man, a world traveler, and seemingly very excited to be in Amsterdam. Busy looking out at the new landscape, I wasn't much of a conversationalist. However, I did tune in in time to hear him say he was going "window shopping" that night. In his words, "just because you're on a diet doesn't mean you can't have a taste of the pastry." Suffice it to say, if I don't live up to my nickname, he certainly will.

Amsterdam. From the moment I saw it, I feel in love. Charming, unique, friendly, and let's not forget the pancakes. Oh Dutch pancakes are heavenly. And the waffles are unlike any you'll ever taste! After dropping our bags in the hotel, we headed straight to lunch and the Van Gogh museum. This museum was amazing. I developed a new found love for Vincent after listening to my lengthy, informative audio guide. You can imagine my surprise when, in the introduction, they kept talking about Van Hoff. Van Hoff this, Van Hoff that. Vati and I were at a loss. Who was this Van Hoff man? All I could picture was, "Don't hassle the Hoff." For some reason, Baywatch boy and Van Gogh didn't seem to match. We listened to the introduction about ten times each and finally discovered they meant Van Gogh. Accents and language barriers. What can I say.

Sunday, we were off to the Rijks Museum where it was like a bottomless pit of treasures. Vermeer, Rembrandt and many more. The most interesting things were these massive, ornate dollhouses. Apparently, weathly Dutch women had dollhouses as part of their home decor. While they were really incredible, I can't imagine how strange it would be if Mutter had a large dollhouse in the living room. For my sake, I hope they don't appear in Better Homes and Gardens. But, as it turned out, Vati was quite taken with them. I think he wants one for his office.



While B & O hit the museums, Mutter, Vati, and I walked for ages in attempt to find Rick Steve's eating recommendation. At last we arrived, only to find it closed for lunch. Next stop only took cash so after drinking our glasses of water, which were 2.30 EUROS, we paid the bill and were off again. We then decided on The Pancake Bakery, which wasn't in Rick's book. My clothes went out of style as I waited for my food. I'll never forget the menu here said, "We don't serve tap water. Don't ask." Charging for water is absurd and totally pants. I started thinking, what if I were dehydrated?? Would they make me pay 2.30 for a measly glass then? That is one thing I don't miss about Europe. I now have the luxury of FREE WATER!! and refills too.

Next, we all went to the Anne Frank house. This needs another blog post altogether. An amazing opportunity to see but of course sad, depressing, and disheartening. Dinner was at yet another pancake house (if you couldn't tell how much I loved them already, I ate them for nearly ever meal). I decided I could definitely reproduce these pancakes at home when, upon arriving at the restaurant, there were only two 15 year old boys running the show. The next morning it was Doe-Doei (bye bye) Netherlands and homeward bound!



We’ve now reached the end of my traveling blog. Next chapter- Senior year. I know what you’re thinking, school is nothing compared to Vienna. You’re probably right, but check back here occasionally, you might be surprised. To the reader: there are two types, entertained or bored. To the entertained: Thanks for letting me share my summer escapades. I hope you've enjoyed living vicariously through me this summer! To the bored: I guess I wasn’t born a people pleaser. I’ll forgo singing of “I know that you like my style” by Black Eyed Peas next time we meet.