Yesterday, the four of us departed from our individual hometowns and met at the Philadelphia International Airport. Upon boarding our plane to Amsterdam, we were forced to wait two hours before we were able to take off. First, the pilot announced there was something wrong with the pressure system that activates the engine. After airline staff installed the airline's plan b, we taxied out of the gate only to return twenty minutes later so an "uncooperative" passenger could be escorted off the plane. No one is quite sure what happened with him, but after he left, we waited another thirty minutes before it was our turn to take-off. Shortly after the in-flight dinner, the pilot came on the intercom to ask if any doctors or nurses onboard could press their call buttons. I'm not sure what happened, but I think it was a first class passenger having difficulties. The rest of the flight was fairly calm. We pulled our money and bought two bottles of liquor on the plane so that we would have something to start off our travels. The duty free shop was fairly cheap -- only $18 for a liter of Absolut. While our journey started off quite delayed, our pilot managed to make up time in the air and we arrived only an hour and a half late.
We rushed through customs, waited forever to claim our baggage and then stood in line to purchase train tickets into Amsterdam and separate tickets for all the city's public transport. Since we were short on time, we paid a small fortune of 23 euros to store our luggage in three lockers at the Amsterdam Centraln Station before venturing to Anne Frank's house.
Without a map, we struggled to find the house and ended up asking one Dutch family and two groups of tourists for directions. We eventually arrived an hour after our scheduled entrance time, but the woman waved us through check-in and we wandered through the museum. The experience was rather somber. While there was no furniture in the house, reconstructions and videos showed how cramped the space really was. The lighting was awful and I struggled to read the notes on the wall; I can only imagine how depressing it was for those in hiding, especially since their efforts mounted to little for many Jews.
On our way out of the museum, we stopped in the bookstore and were able to purchase some postcards. We passed an interesting looking church on our hike back to the train station and were drawn inside by the pretty sounds from the small, yet impressive, organ. The building was rather nice. After looking around for a few moments, we headed out to the train station.
We picked our luggage back up and were able to locate the correct tram - tram 2 - for our hotel. A nice man on the train told us when we got to the Van Gogh stop (our landmark). Matt got off first, and then me followed by Ben. Madeline was last, but the doors shut before she could get off and there was nothing we could do but watch her roll away. She was able to get off at the next stop and she ran back down the street to meet up with us. We were briefly turned around before we found the Inner Hotel, located on a cute, quiet side street. I checked us in and we went in twos in the tiny Dutch elevator up to the third floor.
Our room is fairly nice. It has six bunks, but we have it all to ourselves. We have an ensuite bathroom too. We don't have the best view from our window - just some rooftops - but I'm glad the place is clean.
After a short nap, we hopped back on the tram and got some dinner at a dimly lit restaurant called La Pampa. It was a cute place and the food wasn't too overpriced. We had to eat quickly though so we could rush across town to meet up with our group for the Red Light District Walking tour.
I was actually really surprised with the tour. After being given a small glass of wine (or beer if you wanted), we received information from a working girl and proceeded to walk past some of the windows in the area. I was surprised though, by how small the windows were. Most of them were just a door with a window in it leading to a small room with a twin bed and not much else. It was quite bizarre how open everything was. The windows were surrounded by sex shops and, surprisingly, there were some Christian hostels nearby.
After the tour, we split up and Madeline and I did some shopping. We ended up getting lost and wandering around Amsterdam for awhile, but it was still fun. Once we figured out where we were, we caught a tram back to the hostel and dropped our stuff off before heading to a small, casual bar down the street for a drink. It closed soon after we got there though, at 1230, so we headed back.
