So I still haven't had my Dutch pancakes. We leave tomorrow on the train at about six in the effing morning to get to Frankfurt for our half-hour layover between Amsterdam and Dresden, which is on the way to Prague. We woke up a little later this morning, and got an even later start because it was necessary to get fed and showered before embarking on the adventures of the day.
My butt still hurt like a mother, so I stretched a little bit. It was impossible to get a good stretch in since there were other people in the room that might be made uncomfortable, but it helped slightly. We left at around one, and got onto the bikes. Mine doesn't have a nickname, but it's a very nice bike, and keeps me sitting up straight. I enjoyed riding through Amsterdam; I felt like a kid again. I was the last in our little caravan of individuals on bikes, and I took my time watching the road, the pedestrians, the other bike riders, and the amazingly lovely streets.
The weather wasn't nearly as nice today as it was yesterday, so I wore one of my sweaters and a jacket. It was good museum weather, so that's what we went and did. The museums are next to one another, so the Rijks museum was our first stop.
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Rjiks Museum, from across the square. |
We decided that Van Gogh was more interesting, though, and if we had time, we would go to the Rjik's. I'm not too into Vermeer, Rembrandt, or any of the other Dutch Masters, and Gill and Simon didn't seem to care too much about it either, so we decided on Van Gogh and stuck with it.
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Clever sign, which reads "I Amsterdam" |
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A pretty fountain in that square |
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It's big enough to sit on! Let's do it! |
Unfortunately, picture-taking inside the museum is not allowed, and I'm not touristy enough yet to just troll through and take pictures of whatever the hell I want to. The museum was, in a word, superb. The museum begins on the first floor, and goes through Vincent's influences, his predecessors, his family life, and some of his very early work. The next floor is all Van Gogh (actually pronounced "Von Ggoch" with a gutteral 'g' and a very phlegmy 'ch') and I don't know where the time went, but next thing I know, it's five in the afternoon.
I felt like I was falling into the paintings. You can see the brushtrokes, and trace where the artist's wrist flicked. You can stand back and find the magic in the paints, and then get ridiculously close to the canvas (literally breathe on the paints) and lose yourself in the individual movements again. It's inexpressible. The cheapest form of transcendence.
I have no pictures of the museum, so here are some more from yesterday!
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I loved the grotesques on this |
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"Smoking is bad." XP |
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A Buddhist temple in the middle of the city |
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Paint your own Domo-kun! |
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Street is relatively uniform, but I love the little flower boxes |
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There are hooks at the tops of the houses for pulling furniture into your second story |
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A Hausboat! Literally. |
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The city is so hodge-podge. Love it. |
Time to eat. More tomorrow. I love this city.
where did you find a "paint your own Domo-kun" in Amsterdam? O.o I've never seen something like that ever!
ReplyDeleteJust on the street. It was cool.
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