Day 3: Roy Lichtenstein makes me feel like I'm home
Last night I headed out to Leidseplein and found the biggest party I will ever see. the large open air part of it is a sea of tables under umbrellas with heat lamps in them. Walked the circumference of the area and ended up having a pint of Murphy's (stout; they also have Murphy's Red on tap) at Dan Murphy's Irish Pub, essentially the first bar you come to if you get off the tram and follow the left hand rule. Met a motley bunch of locals, half of whom were emigrants from the British Isles and Czech Republic, when somebody in the group was asking about Chris Elliot while I was sitting right behind her. Got into a lively conversation with an Irish expat about things, leading to some confusion when I started using the word "brogue," which I was surprised to discover means "shoe" in Gaelic (probably spelt "bróag" or something akin) and which the other participant in the conversation was surprised to learn means "Celtic accent" in English. Did finally get some sleep last night after reading some game reviews in the latest issue of GAMES, though fitful and not lasting much past 8:30. All of my roommates checked out this morning.
12:30pm
Decided to stand in the ticket line at the Van Gogh museum to see if anyone around me was conversing in English. No such luck, but the line is moving pretty well even though one of the "All Tickets" lines is closed. I really should have come yesterday, when there were late hours and live entertainment, but I didn't know about that latter feature until this morning. After I got moving this morning I spent more than an hour and a half trying to coordinate travels. Got lodging in Bruges at two different B&Bs on consecutive nights, but axed plans to go to Lisse when I found out that the tulip gardens only bloom in spring.
No photography is allowed in the museum, flash or otherwise, so I brought the sketchbook along in case I decide to sit and draw something. I have a migraine though currently I'm only feeling it at the periphery.
2:40pm
At the museum cafe, after wandering the permanent exhibitions for a while, & having had a spot of lunch (caprese sandwich with pesto, strawberries & whipped cream, Bounty bar) I'm looking toward going downstairs for the current special exhibition. The cafe has a great view of the grassy part of Museumplein, adjacent to the stones and playground park behind the Rijksmuseum. Also in the cafe are NYC/Amsterdam/Moscow/Tokyo clocks informing me that normally I wouldn't be out of bed right now. Even though I am tired, evidenced by my sleepiness when I sat down on the third-floor benches to rest my feet, I don't feel time displaced. Somehow I already think it should be morning when itis morning, and think it should be evening when it is evening -- either that or I'm too exhausted to have a functioning internal clock at all.
I have been finding some peace in the Van Gogh works and those of the other artists in the collection, combatting the stress I'm feeling from the overall experience of this trip. My goal for thee rest of the afternoon is to get the camera and take pictures of stuff. Today, I am a tourist.
Quick Update
The special exhibition has works by Mondrian and Malevitch (the latter being a standout from my art history classes, the former being Mondrian). I have heard tell that the real beauty of Mondrian's works lies in the elimination of brushstrokes and painting artifacts, but these early pieces (from 1920 and 1922) still have them in some quantity. The smoothness is eclisped by a piece by Theo van Doesburg from 1924 which was intended to emulate Mondrian's style. However, based on this material I cannot infer whether Mondrian in 1924 also had this level of skill.
Quick Update
Eva Besnyö's hair looks startlingly like mine (photo by Cas Oorthuys).
Walked out to Vondelpark 4:30ish after collecting my camera and started shooting photos. In the park met Riccardo, Martijn, Robberts, and Sander, four locals. Sander was wearing a Steelers T-shirt and I complimented him on his taste and explained that I was from the city where the Steelers call home. We joked around for a while and Robberts recommended a Surinamese restaurant called Albina's on Albert Cuijpmasict. I saw four guys playing pétanque on Museumplein and was quite amused. Got pictures of the museum facades, the canals, places up Leidsestraat and beyond.
8:00pm
Touring around citycenter. Saw the buskers performing at the main square, the blocks which are saturated with hashhouses, lots of side streets with bars & cafes, and a large Irish pub which has outdoor seating in both the front andthe back. Sitting at one of those sidestreet bars now (De Engelse Reet), watching a Public Works sort of fellow power wash the street with a hose pumped from his van.
8:45 pm
Two young Finnish women sat down next to me. I found out they were Finnish after asking if they were locals, because I still need a place to dine. They stopped here for a cider on their way to the Red Light District. With the waiter's help we figured out our location and their directions. Waiter has recommended a place called Haesje Claes for authentic Dutch food.
11:35pm
Sitting at an Irish pub on Leidseplein again, a different one than last night. This one, Hoopman, is part of a megabar that spans three street addresses (the other wings of this establishment being the Hole In The Wall and Reynder's). The bar staff represent Ireland well.
Dinner at Haesje Claes was amazing! I had a Dutch traditional dish called stomppot. It had a sausage which tasted like Hickory Farms Beef Stick, only about a thousand times better; mashed vegetables on top of sauteed onions with a gravy indentation; beef cubes slow cooked until they were beyond fork tender, again with gravy; and cubed bacon with pickle slices and pickled pearl onions. Dessert was semolina pudding with almonds and brandy-soaked raisins, surrounded with berry sauce, fresh berries, and little mounds of whipped cream topped with miniature gingersnaps. To top it off, I mined the knowledge of the waiter to find out that the "g" in Afflingem (a 900-plus-year-old Belgian brewery) has a sound like you're clearing your throat.
I feel pretty good now, since I've had a few conversations, some quality photo-snapping time, fantastic dinner, and a bit of sightseeing. Ready to turn in when this Guinness turns into an empty glass. All of my previous roommates checked out this morning; won't know if more have checked in until I return.
12:30pm
Decided to stand in the ticket line at the Van Gogh museum to see if anyone around me was conversing in English. No such luck, but the line is moving pretty well even though one of the "All Tickets" lines is closed. I really should have come yesterday, when there were late hours and live entertainment, but I didn't know about that latter feature until this morning. After I got moving this morning I spent more than an hour and a half trying to coordinate travels. Got lodging in Bruges at two different B&Bs on consecutive nights, but axed plans to go to Lisse when I found out that the tulip gardens only bloom in spring.
No photography is allowed in the museum, flash or otherwise, so I brought the sketchbook along in case I decide to sit and draw something. I have a migraine though currently I'm only feeling it at the periphery.
2:40pm
At the museum cafe, after wandering the permanent exhibitions for a while, & having had a spot of lunch (caprese sandwich with pesto, strawberries & whipped cream, Bounty bar) I'm looking toward going downstairs for the current special exhibition. The cafe has a great view of the grassy part of Museumplein, adjacent to the stones and playground park behind the Rijksmuseum. Also in the cafe are NYC/Amsterdam/Moscow/Tokyo clocks informing me that normally I wouldn't be out of bed right now. Even though I am tired, evidenced by my sleepiness when I sat down on the third-floor benches to rest my feet, I don't feel time displaced. Somehow I already think it should be morning when itis morning, and think it should be evening when it is evening -- either that or I'm too exhausted to have a functioning internal clock at all.
I have been finding some peace in the Van Gogh works and those of the other artists in the collection, combatting the stress I'm feeling from the overall experience of this trip. My goal for thee rest of the afternoon is to get the camera and take pictures of stuff. Today, I am a tourist.
Quick Update
The special exhibition has works by Mondrian and Malevitch (the latter being a standout from my art history classes, the former being Mondrian). I have heard tell that the real beauty of Mondrian's works lies in the elimination of brushstrokes and painting artifacts, but these early pieces (from 1920 and 1922) still have them in some quantity. The smoothness is eclisped by a piece by Theo van Doesburg from 1924 which was intended to emulate Mondrian's style. However, based on this material I cannot infer whether Mondrian in 1924 also had this level of skill.
Quick Update
Eva Besnyö's hair looks startlingly like mine (photo by Cas Oorthuys).
Walked out to Vondelpark 4:30ish after collecting my camera and started shooting photos. In the park met Riccardo, Martijn, Robberts, and Sander, four locals. Sander was wearing a Steelers T-shirt and I complimented him on his taste and explained that I was from the city where the Steelers call home. We joked around for a while and Robberts recommended a Surinamese restaurant called Albina's on Albert Cuijpmasict. I saw four guys playing pétanque on Museumplein and was quite amused. Got pictures of the museum facades, the canals, places up Leidsestraat and beyond.
8:00pm
Touring around citycenter. Saw the buskers performing at the main square, the blocks which are saturated with hashhouses, lots of side streets with bars & cafes, and a large Irish pub which has outdoor seating in both the front andthe back. Sitting at one of those sidestreet bars now (De Engelse Reet), watching a Public Works sort of fellow power wash the street with a hose pumped from his van.
8:45 pm
Two young Finnish women sat down next to me. I found out they were Finnish after asking if they were locals, because I still need a place to dine. They stopped here for a cider on their way to the Red Light District. With the waiter's help we figured out our location and their directions. Waiter has recommended a place called Haesje Claes for authentic Dutch food.
11:35pm
Sitting at an Irish pub on Leidseplein again, a different one than last night. This one, Hoopman, is part of a megabar that spans three street addresses (the other wings of this establishment being the Hole In The Wall and Reynder's). The bar staff represent Ireland well.
Dinner at Haesje Claes was amazing! I had a Dutch traditional dish called stomppot. It had a sausage which tasted like Hickory Farms Beef Stick, only about a thousand times better; mashed vegetables on top of sauteed onions with a gravy indentation; beef cubes slow cooked until they were beyond fork tender, again with gravy; and cubed bacon with pickle slices and pickled pearl onions. Dessert was semolina pudding with almonds and brandy-soaked raisins, surrounded with berry sauce, fresh berries, and little mounds of whipped cream topped with miniature gingersnaps. To top it off, I mined the knowledge of the waiter to find out that the "g" in Afflingem (a 900-plus-year-old Belgian brewery) has a sound like you're clearing your throat.
I feel pretty good now, since I've had a few conversations, some quality photo-snapping time, fantastic dinner, and a bit of sightseeing. Ready to turn in when this Guinness turns into an empty glass. All of my previous roommates checked out this morning; won't know if more have checked in until I return.