A Lapse in Memory or Judgement

Amsterdam is a bit like London - when it's a sunny day, you don't waste it inside a museum. You ride around in a boat. Amsterdam has an entire network of canals and rivers as you can see from the map. And as you walk along the canals you can see that they are teeming with boats. Some boats offer one-hour tours, others offer a 24-hour pass and some offer both. We definitely wanted a boat tour and decided to get the 24-hour pass because it would only cost a total of ten euros more than the one-hour tour.

I was paying attention to the boats. It was important to choose a boat company that had multiple boats in order to make use of the hop-on/hop-off ticket. Holland International seemed to have the most boats, followed by Lovers and another company with a Dutch name. Most of the lines sold tickets on the dock near the central train station.

But when we came out of the Anne Frank house and headed down Prinzengracht, what did we see but a place to buy canal boat tickets. Did we remember to check and see which boat line the tickets were for? No, we did not. Did we think to ask them how many boats they had? No, we did not. We just bought the 24-hour hop-on/hop-off tickets. The boat was coming in 15 minutes. A number of boats came by and stopped, but they were not "our" boat. Our boat appeared 15 minutes after the designated time and it was empty. Seems that this was the first trip of the day and the boat ran until 8 PM. Essentially, because we bought our ticket before the boat even started its rounds, we did not actually have a 24-hour tickets because they would expire before service restarted in the morning. Okay, we would just have to make the most of it until 8 PM. We did the one hour tour and then hopped off for lunch.

The boat company offered different routes, red and purple. There were about four stops in common so you could switch from one route to the other. We had already taken the red route so after lunch, we headed to one of the common stops so we could hop on the boat for the purple route. We waited, and waited, and waited some more. Obviously it was late. I suppose it is difficult to stick to a timetable when you don't know how many people will be getting on or off at any given stop. Allow for baby strollers and people with limited mobility and the timetable can be off. But finally the boat appeared and the captain waved to all of the people standing and waiting. Then as he went by without stopping he told us that the next boat would be along in 10 minutes. We could see why, that boat was crammed full. So we all stood in line and waited for what seemed like an eternity, even though it was actually about 30 minutes. The next boat has room for us. But guess what? It was not a purple route boat, we were now back on the red route boat.We'd already heard all the commentary on this route. We wanted to go on the purple route.

I questioned the captain about where we could off to get the purple route boat. It turns out that this particular boat company does not have a boat that comes by every fifteen minutes like Holland International or Lovers. It turns out that this particular boat company has two boats, one for the red route and one for the purple route, which means that a boat turns up every hour or so. The purple boat was then about 30 minutes ahead of the red boat. The purple boat was full and there was no guarantee that anyone would get off unless they were only on the one hour tour which did not begin at the same place as the red route tour. Bottom line, we could stay on the red boat and get off at the next common stop and then stand around for 30 to 40 minutes until the purple route boat came back. There would be no guarantee that it wouldn't be full again and in theory, we could wait there until it stopped running at 8 PM and never get on. Another option was to chase it on foot and hope that someone got off somewhere. Another option was to chalk the experience up to a lapse in memory, or perhaps judgement and get on with enjoying Amsterdam.We opted to get on with it.

But while we were on the red route boat, we did take some lovely pictures.

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Wait til I'm Ready

I am interrupting my previously planned posts about Holland to talk about what happened to us Sunday evening. We went to Bonnie Ruth's for dinner - a somewhat casual anniversary celebration. We were  fortunate enough to score a table on the patio. I think the waiter was new - at least I'd never seen him before and we go there once a month or so. He brought us drinks and took our order. When he came back with fresh bread he said he'd misplaced the order and took it again. No problem. We remembered what we wanted - a wedge salad to share, and then I ordered seafood crepes and Mark ordered pork chops.

We'd taken one bite out of the salads when the manager brought the entrees out. She apologized for the fact that the salads weren't sent out sooner and indicated that she didn't want to leave our entrees under the light to die. Neither did we. But we didn't want them sitting on the table for ten minutes getting cold while we finished the salad. We rejected the entrees. We should have time to eat the salad before the entrees are brought out so they aren't cold before we get to them. Mark indicated that he didn't expect them to be sat under a lamp and returned to us and we were assured that they would be redone and fresh.

Guess what! The moment the salad plates were whisked away, the entrees were delivered. They were not hot. I think they put the returned entrees under a lamp to keep them warm - just like they said they wouldn't. Mark gets really upset when someone tries to put something over on him and he was very upset about the "not hot" entree. It was time to just get the check and go. Mark was upset enough to never go back. The manager was making an effort to make things right. The meal was now free. They were going to box it up for us to take home because we were no longer in the mood to eat it there. (And then we could reheat it - ironic that this was the very situation we were hoping to avoid.) We were given some mini cupcakes and offered a couple glasses of champagne, which we turned down. We were given a $20 gift certificate for a return visit.

Mark is of the opinion that $20 wasn't enough. In retrospect, it probably wasn't. It won't cover the cost of the average entree. We've been given gift certificates to compensate for bad service before (Sneaky Pete's, Bob Evans) and we typically throw them away. Really, why would I want to subject myself to bad service again just because it's now cheaper?

But here's the deal with Bonnie Ruth's - we've been going there regularly for seven years. In all that time, this is the first screw-up. If it had happened my first trip, I'd never go back. That was the case with Fortuna Grill (now closed). A similar thing happened at Jasper's in Plano. (We didn't go there as often because it's somewhat pricey.) The food came out and it wasn't hot. I wasn't even sure that the scallops had been cooked through. They took it back and I'm sure they nuked it because when they brought it back (the same one, not a new one) it was steaming hot for about a minute and then it didn't seem completely cooked again. Oddly enough, I've had no desire to go back there since. 

I do want to go back to Bonnie Ruth's. At least for now. The food is good (when it's hot) and the service is usually good. I don't know if the problem originated when the waiter "lost" the order, or if the problem was with an over-zealous kitchen racing to get all the entrees out as quickly as possible. I suspect that kitchen personnel are compensated on how quickly they turn out the orders. (Not just at Bonnie Ruth's, but everywhere in the U.S.) Too often, if you order an appetizer or salad at the same time as your entree, they'll all be served at the same time, or in quick succession.  But I know how to prevent this problem. I can order my salad and hold off ordering the entree until I've eaten the salad. If they don't know what I want, they can't bring it before I'm ready.   

The Bridge Too Far

One day we took the train and went to Arnhem. Mark wanted to go there with his dad, but since his dad (who is almost 89) only moves between his bed and his chair (and that with assistance), he decided to take me. It's only about a 40 minute train ride from Amsterdam, which made it an easy day trip.

Until I got there, I really didn't know much about the battle at Arnhem. In school we tended to focus on the causes and outcomes of wars, not individual battles. And apparently there are movies and books about this battle, the most famous being A Bridge Too Far. But I hadn't read them because they are "war" movies and books and I'd rather watch a romantic comedy or read a novel. So I arrived in Arnhem with no knowledge and no opinion.

This is what I learned: The Allies launched Operation Market Garden on September 17, 1944. Paratroopers (including my father-in-law) were dropped to secure key bridges and towns along the Rhine. Only a small force was able to reach the bridge in Arnhem but they took it and held it as long as they could. The Germans had them outgunned and outnumbered but they held the bridge for four days. Their reinforcements and supplies had been cut off. They had lost three quarters of their men, they'd run out of ammo and they had to retreat. (My father-in-law was one of the few survivors that retreated and then evacuated. - Aren't I the lucky girl??)

We took pictures so we could show Mark's dad. The first picture we showed him was of the church.

"Jesus God!" were the first words out of his mouth. We didn't have to tell him where it was. He knew. Mark showed him pictures of the bridge.

He told us where he was, nearly half way across, and how the bullets were flying everywhere and how he'd never been so frightened in all his life. (And by the way, this wasn't his first battle. He'd been injured in Tunisia. Half of his shoulder was blown off, he had some spine damage and shrapnel in his knee that remains to this day.) He could have sat out the rest of the war, but he didn't. After being sent back to England to recover (which took nearly a year), he was in Italy and after this battle he went in just ahead of the D-Day landing.

We got him to talk about the experience as much as we could. He told us how he joined the army when he was 15 by telling them he was 18. He told us how he joined the airborne because someone told him he wouldn't have to march anywhere and he thought that would suit him. He talked about his best buddy, Ronnie Moon and how they watched each others backs. But we came to the point where the memories of the dead bodies got the better of him. (He didn't know it, but we were recording him. At some point, we'll transcribe his story.)

Of course, the bridge you see here has been rebuilt. The original bridge was destroyed, as you might expect. The new bridge is named the John Frost Bridge, in honor of the British commander.

We also went down the road a bit to the neighboring town of Oosterbeek, home of  the Airborne Museum.That's where I saw this quote from a British war correspondent:

"If in the years to come any man says to you "I fought at Arnhem", take off your hat to him and buy him a drink for this is the stuff of which England's greatness is made."

The Legacy of Anne Frank

I was familiar with the story. I'd read the diary as a teenager and we did a production of the play in high school. It was sad when I was a teenager, but it was something that happened to someone else - someone long ago and far away. But there in the house- in the secret annex with the light blocking shades pulled down I realized that I wanted to open the shade and peek out - get my bearings, check the weather. Just take a peek. It was then that I realized just how horrible it would be to be locked inside for years, never to see the sun, never to take a peek. I'm sure I'd have spent most of my days in tears or tantrums.

The play told the story in a couple of hours - in fact it took place over a couple of years. Imagine being in hiding for more than two years! Being hidden away meant that you had to be quiet all day long. Any noise, creaking floorboards or voices could give you away. Being caught was most certainly a death sentence. Typically a slow death caused by starvation and ultimately the gas chamber, separated from those you love. Horrible beyond imagining.

The rooms in the house are unfurnished, at the request of Otto Frank, who was the only survivor of the people hidden in the annex. But Ann's room still has the pictures she'd cut out of magazines to decorate the wall - movie stars and the English Princesses Elizabeth and Margaret - her attempt to bring some cheer into her world. Being in that room connected me with her story so much more than reading the book.

Although, if you've never read the book, you should. (http://www.amazon.com/Anne-Frank-Diary-Young-Girl/dp/0553296981) If you have an opportunity to visit the house, go.

In addition to the horrors of the holocaust, there is one other thing that strikes me about Anne Frank's story. After reading her diary, her father remarked that he had not realized how she felt. He saw his little girl who liked movie magazines. Until he read her diary he had no idea about the depth of her feeling and understanding. I think that's probably true of most parents and children. We really don't know each other as well as we could. 

The Steep and Narrow

You know what it's like - you're out walking around and then you have to pee. There are no public restrooms and if there are, you don't want to use them. All the available facilities are reserved for customers. Fortunately, I can always count on Mark to be ready for a cup or tea, or a beer and we become customers.

Unfortunately, in many European locations, finding the loo, toilet, ladies room, (insert the term of your choice) involves a staircase. And if it involves a staircase in Amsterdam, it's probably steep and narrow. Very difficult for an old tart with a bad knee!

Understandably, the reason the staircases are so steep is because the buildings are so narrow. (It all has to do with geometry, so I won't be able to explain it.) But interestingly, the reason the buildings are so narrow is because the Dutch are so clever. When most of these houses were built (back in the 1600s) the government based the tax rate on the amount of frontage the building had rather than the square footage. The folks in Amsterdam just built their houses up rather than out.

The staircases in the canal houses are so narrow that they can't get furniture in and out using the stairs. So all the houses have hooks that enable them to lift furniture and bring it in through the windows.

It's all quite charming, but I'm glad I don't have to negotiate those stairs on a regular basis.

Bicycles Everywhere!

It's a wonder that I wasn't killed or injured by a bicycle in Amsterdam. I know there were at least three occasions that I thought it was a miracle that I didn't step out in front of one. You look left, then you look right, you wait for the cyclists coming from your right to pass and you'd better look left again because more will have come out of nowhere.

Just to get a feel for how many bicycles were in Amsterdam, Mark and I conducted a highly scientific study. We sat at a cafe near an intersection and counted the vehicles going through the intersection (in any direction). We classified them into the following categories: Bicycles, Motorized Bikes/Scooters, and Cars. We set the timer for five minutes. During that time we counted 36 bicycles, 6 motorized bikes and 13 cars. A total of 55 vehicles and 36 of them were bicycles. That's 65%!

On the main streets, bicycles had their own lanes - a narrow lane in between the cars and the pedestrian sidewalk. On the side streets, all vehicles, motorized or otherwise managed to coexist. It's important to stay on the sidewalk and not drift off into the bicycle lane when you're walking. But if you did, the bicycles all seemed to have bells, which are really far less startling than horns.

About the bikes - these were not the flashy 10-speed bikes that are so popular around here. These are good, old-fashioned bicycles - the kind I had when I was a kid. And the kind I would feel more comfortable on now if I could actually find one. Some were equipped with baskets and some even had compartments attached for carrying one or more children. These were utility vehicles - used for transportation not recreation. No one was wearing bike shorts and very few were wearing helmets. There were more women riding bicycles in high heels than there were wearing helmets. I was amazed!

 And in all the time we were in Amsterdam, I never saw anyone crash a bicycle into anything - not a car, not a pedestrian, not another bicycle. Amazing. But one day we took the train to Arnhem. Not so many people ride bikes in Arnhem as in Amsterdam. In fact, we only saw two people on bicycles - and they crashed into each other. I had to laugh.