Way back in the first week of September (which feels like ages ago), our group, collectively the “Torta Squad” decided we would go to Amsterdam for Fall Break. We figured it was a busy weekend because of Halloween, and since we would go for five or six days we should book fast. This was the first trip we had booked, before we had gone on any, before we knew how difficult travelling from Florence was, before we realized how far away Milan’s airports are from the train station, before we knew about the reliability of budget airlines and Trenitalia. Mistakes were made, and we paid the price certainly.
Having said that, our trip was amazing. Holland is an absolutely beautiful place. Though not known for their food, we ate plenty of satisfactory Dutch meals. And the culture of The Netherlands is one which I envy. As I learned, all three of the above terms describe the same place. Holland (there actually is a North and South Holland) are two provinces in The Netherlands. Because of all this confusion, and to make things easier, the terms can all sort of be interchangeable. The Dutch tourism website is www.holland.com.
Day 1: Our first day began at 1:40pm as we all walked to the train station to catch our 2:00pm train to Milano Centrale. Even though we all paid the same price, booked through the same site and at the same time, some of us ended up Business class and some in Premium. I was the lone soldier in Standard class. Though I’ll complain about this, I don’t really mean it, though as you’ll see later on, in Day 5, it does become a slightly valid complaint. The difference between Premium and Standard though is significant, because in Premium you get free food and drinks (alcoholic ones included — hello afternoon glass of champagne.) The free food and drinks will always be worth the extra few Euros to me.
After getting off at the gorgeous Milano Centrale station, we bought bus tickets that would get us round trip to the Milano Malpensa Airport, 50 minutes away from the city. The coach bus was pretty empty, meaning we each got our own row to relax. We arrived in the rain to the airport with more than enough time to grab dinner before our flight. The six of us (me, Ross, Leeya, Taylor, Danielle and Talia) would meet up with Maddie in the terminal (she had a midterm and took a later train), and with Trina in Amsterdam (she was on a separate flight directly from Florence — a smart move.) My housemates David and Evan were also on our flight, but they didn’t take the train and would meet us before boarding. Struggle number one: Leeya’s bag was too big and security forced her to go back and check it, which cost her 40-Euros right off the bat.
Struggle number two, something that really bothers me, is that Easyjet (and maybe the other budget airlines?) don’t give you your gate information until just before boarding. They prefer to keep all of their passengers from all of their flights contained in one small area, and then send them scrambling to the gate at the last minute, hoping their carry-on bags will actually make it instead of being forced to gate check. First, we walked over to the gate of the earlier flight to Amsterdam, where the rude gate agent refused to help out at all. He insisted that any changes would have to be made at check in. However, when you check in (which we did online to save the fees Easyjet charges for doing this at the airport), you aren’t yet aware if a flight has open seats, since it’s still hours away. Basically, he was useless and rude and cost us time that could’ve been better spent.
Sitting in the terminal, everyone but myself (everyone on this trip goes to UCSB) had to log on to do their class registration. My registration was the next night in Amsterdam — I didn’t get into anything I wanted of course. After everyone got into at least one or two classes, we found a decent place for dinner featuring pizza and the single worst salad I’ve ever eaten.
Eventually, the eight of us were together and waiting in the airport, only to find the flight delayed by 30+ minutes. The airport had great free wifi, but maybe three power outlets in the entire terminal. I was able to get a quick charge in before I got bored with sitting by myself on the floor.
Our 9:35pm flight was more of a 10:45pm departure. David and I were seated directly behind each other, in rows 8 and 9. Evan was alone in Row 17. The rest of the group was all together in the last two rows. I spent the entirety of the 90 minute flight reading The New Yorker on my phone and found a couple of fascinating articles on the possible future of seaweed and the science linking all five senses to taste.
We finally landed in the super cool Amsterdam Schipol Airport, grabbed Leeya’s bag at baggage claim and made our way down to the train station (in the airport!) From there, we took the train a whopping 20 minutes into Centraal Station and made the brief walk to Bob’s Youth Hostel. After a painfully slow check in process and the arrival of Trina, we crept up the very steep, very narrow and very twisty staircase to Room A, where we would occupy eight of sixteen beds (my housemates David and Evan were in another hostel.) Once we had set everything down, we decided to go out for a walk. Let’s be honest, we needed a drink after 10+ hours of travel. Since it was 1am on a Wednesday, we were out of luck. We ended up with french fries from a kebab restaurant.
Our walk back was quite interesting though. By accident, we stumbled upon a street full of brothels. It felt like a movie. The red lights. The girls in the windows (all sitting there playing on their phones.) The closed curtains and lights off when there was a customer. It was bizarre yet also slightly interesting and sad to see. These women were all real people, with lives, friends, family. Yet here they were sitting in a window in their underwear trying to get people to pay to have sex with them.
Day 2: We got up at what felt like the crack of dawn, around 7:30am. Our goal was to be out the door by 8ish and in line at the Anne Frank House. After a quick stop at the bagel place across the street, we walked over to find a line already 200 or so people deep. It was also freezing (by our California standards.) It was in the low 50s but windy. We took shifts waiting in line and walking around taking pictures of the beautiful canals nearby. We were let in around 10ish.
The museum was super cool. A lot of the rooms were left empty — intentionally, by Anne’s father — to represent all of the empty rooms left behind by Jews who never returned. While in no way was it fun or particularly exciting, it was an important museum to see and any human with half decent morals needs to go.
After that we walked around and found a place to grab lunch. It was super cheap but had huge sandwiches and omelettes. My housemate David met up with us and we walked around exploring for awhile. Then, we learned a very important lesson in The Netherlands: coffee = weed, and koffie = actual coffee. We spent a little while (probably a lot less than it seemed) in a cafe and then walked across town to go to a really cool bar at the top of a mall. We’re big on rooftop bars, or anything with a view really. What we found — at the top of a slightly diagonal elevator — was exactly what we wanted: a decently-priced bar with incredible views of the city.
We watched the sunset from the bar and then left in a few smaller groups to head back to the hostel and figure out dinner. Amazingly, even in October, there already was a large amount of Christmas lights/trees hung around the city. Beautiful of course, but it felt a bit too early.
Back at the hostel I had to register for my classes online for the upcoming Spring semester. Our online system is crap, and as usual, I managed to not get into anything that I really want or need. It’s not the end of November as I write this and I still haven’t gotten into anything good.
After that everyone sort of did their own thing. I went off with my friends Danielle and Talia to get some dessert. We had churros, a stroopwaffl, and a regular waffle with Nutella. All delicious and ungodly amounts of sugar.
Day 3: The plan was to get up a decent hour, go together to get some pancakes and then all go to Utrecht. Unfortunately, we slept later than we wanted, and with a group our size, it just takes forever for everyone to get out the door. We split up and headed to a place called Pancakes! It was a Friday morning and there was a huge wait of course. We ended up at the place next door and had American pancakes…
Here, I had my first “fresh mint tea.” They’re not kidding when they say it’s fresh mint. I had another one at breakfast the next day, and both times they take hot water, stuff in as many mint leaves as possible, and add a tiny bit of honey. It’s perfect. It’s delicious. It tastes fresh and feels great. Warms you right up.
Post-breakfast, half the group decided they were in zero rush to get to Utrecht, while the other half wanted to get there. I wanted to get to Amsterdam because I had to be back to get a concert in Amsterdam. We walked back to our hostel to pick up some stuff and headed over to the train station. Train stations in Europe tend to be either very high tech and modern, or an old beautiful building. Amsterdam Centraal Station was both: outside very beautiful and old, inside very modern and clean looking.
The big yellow train got us to Utrecht in just under half an hour. Quick and easy with beautiful views of the Dutch countryside. To get out of the station in Utrecht requires walking through a massive shopping mall… there’s only one way in and only one way out and the route is through the mall. Eventually we found our way out and were greeted with the absolutely beautiful city.
Utrecht is a college town; there’s a huge university there. UC has a program there and it definitely made me wish I had looked into it. We spent probably three or four hours just walking around, stepping on leaves, wandering along the canals. The sun was setting and it couldn’t have been prettier.
We found a place called STACH Food; two actually. Both had just opened in Utrecht. We went to both. We bought lots of nice things at both. Chocolates, pastries, already prepared food to-go. Everything was amazing — and cheap. They also have one in Amsterdam that I went to for lunch the next day. I currently have a few cups of theirs on my desk with pencils in them, as well as a milk chocolate peanut butter bar from them. Also I bought a little tote bag. Tote bags here are insanely cheap. Like 1-2 Euros cheap.
By then it was dark and we were hungry so we found a nice place alongside a canal to get some food and drinks. [You can see a nice picture of my wine with the lights of the trees below.] Dinner was nothing special and we stopped by the other STACH location on the way to the train to get hot chocolate.
Oops I almost forgot. On our way to dinner, I noticed some guys making fresh pasta inside and I stopped to watch. They invited us in and my friends were hesitant, but I went in anyways. It turns out, the two guys were Italians from Lucca and were prepping their restaurant to open later that week! We said that we were leaving that night and they gave us some free pizza to sample. It’s always fun using Italian in other places around Europe.
On our way to the train we found this really neat bowling alley. Beautiful interior. Young hip friends with pitchers of beers. Trees inside. Lots of cool lights. Unfortunately you needed reservations at least a few days in advance… Next time!
We got back to Amsterdam pretty quick and I dropped my stuff off at the hostel, charged my phone, and headed over to Paradiso. Pretty much every single band I’ve interviewed has said that Paradiso is one of their top three venues in the world. I was super excited to go. That night was the first of a two night event called London Calling, where they bring in a bunch of British bands. I wasn’t impressed by the lineup but figured I had to go anyways. Had we gone to Amsterdam a week later I could’ve seen the Alabama Shakes or Father John Misty. Those shows would have changed my life.
Instead I caught three British bands I’d never heard of and will likely never hear of again. However, the venue was incredible. Paradiso is massive and historical. The beer was cheap. The people were of every age. Amazingly, even the 50-60 year olds were in the front moshing. I’d never seen moshing like this. Usually I’m not at mosh-type shows, and this wasn’t particularly punk either, but there was a huge mosh pit during a few of the bands and everyone up there was moshing, regardless of age or gender. I stayed until 1ish, when I then bought a tote bag for 2 Euros and got some french fries across the street. I took the bus back because the light rail didn’t run that late.
Day 4: Our last real day in Amsterdam. Again, we got up too late. A few of us tried to get into Pancakes! but the wait was too long. We ran into a friend from our Italian class though. We ended up at another pancake place nearby but you only got one Dutch pancake for the price. Not worth it. After that we walked down to the Amsterdam sign. The plan was everyone was going to go to the Heineken Experience and I was going to do the Van Gogh Museum — I’d much rather look at art than drink a bunch of beer.
We spent a while climbing on the letters and trying to get good pictures. I headed over to the Van Gogh Museum only to find a three-hour wait in line. I bought a ticket online to come back later. I went to the museum next door, the Stedelijk, a modern art museum. Nothing too exciting was there besides a few neat pieces of furniture and other design stuff.
The final exhibit there, at the top floor, was really interesting. I walked up and was greeted by a Dutch girl of around 10 years old. She said something in Dutch, and I asked if she spoke English. Of course, she said, and invited me to come see the show with her. She led me into a big room, completely empty, with white walls. First, she asked me “what does progress mean?” I was so caught off guard; I had no idea what to expect but it definitely wasn’t philosophical questions. I told her “change in a positive direction,” to which she asked if it could be negative. I said no. Next thing I knew, her friend appeared and she said “this is Sam and he doesn’t think progress can be negative.” Then she disappeared. This girl was now in her early teens and asked more about progress. Suddenly I was handed off to a man in his 30s. He asked about short term and long term goals. I was still very caught off guard and uneasy; I wasn’t very comfortable sharing personal goals with him. Before I knew it, I was talking to a man in his 70s. I don’t remember much of our conversation but suddenly he opened a door and led me out. “Thanks for coming,” he said, but I made him stop and explain the show to me.
He told me it was a piece called Progress by Tino Seghal. It had run a few years ago at the Guggenheim in London. His works use people and conversation as the subject. The old man described a few other pieces of Tino’s. While this was super interesting, I wish I had been prepared for it. If I was in the right mood I could have really enjoyed it. I later realized the progression of people I spoke to — their age increased each time.
After the museum I had some time to kill before meeting up with my friends. It turns out the STACH in Amsterdam was close by and I decided to walk over. On the way, I noticed a Banksy print in a window, and went inside the gallery. It turned out to be a beautiful, very high end modern art gallery. They had a plethora of Banksy prints — all signed — Harings, Damien Hirst, Jeff Koons, even a Warhol or two. I talked with the employee there and negotiated myself from 9000-Euro to 7000 on a Haring print, but I don’t have that kind of money unfortunately. I told her to check out the Political Haring show in Rotterdam, an hour’s train ride away. The same show was in SF last year and was incredible. She gave me a book on Banksy and I said I’d be back in a few years with more money. I should’ve asked for a summer internship instead.
I bought some stroopwaffls and a delicious little chicken sandwich at STACH. I brought it back to the big grass area by the Amsterdam sign, just down the park from the Van Gogh and Stedelijk museums. My friends ended up at a coffee shop not so close and I said I’d meet them later.
I went on my own to the Van Gogh Museum and it was a religious experience. They had a Munch / Van Gogh exhibit at the time and it was life changing. I went through the whole thing twice. I had no idea the similarities between Munch and Van Gogh, from subject matter, to mental health, to their travels, to the way they experimented with other techniques. After Van Gogh died, you can see his influence on Munch’s art. All this, and the two of them never met.
I spent over two hours by myself in the museum and bought a bunch of stuff at the gift shop as well. I got back to the hostel and met up with everyone. It was Halloween and we didn’t have any costumes or plans for the night.
First we decided to go to the Sex Museum. It wasn’t that exciting. Lots of graphic imagery and weird animated objects. It was a quick trip. We ran into the rest of our group getting dinner nearby. I ate at an excellent place called Wok to Wok. You pick a noodle, a protein, and some toppings, and they throw it all in a wok and you’re out of there in five minutes. Great concept. Super cheap. Can sort of be healthy. And incredibly delicious!
On our walk back to the hostel we passed a massive parade of people in costume singing to Michael Jackson’s “Thriller.” In the hostel we spent far too long trying to make costumes or use eyeliner to draw on each other’s faces. We ended up spending most of the night in the lobby hanging out. We made it out to one bar, but by that point it was late and we had to be up early.
Day 6: At 5:45am we heard some pounding on the door. The last of our group had just returned from their night out. At 6:00am my alarm went off. We had to be out the door pretty soon in order to get to our flight. To no one’s surprise, our Easyjet flight was delayed and we all took a nap in the airport.
We missed our train back from Milan. The Trenitalia staff were of no help and told us we had to buy all new tickets. Our tickets were the cheapest level (even though I had treated myself to business class) and thus could not be changed, even if it wasn’t our fault we missed the train. I wasn’t even going all the way to Florence — I was meeting other friends in Bologna — but it was an extra 40-Euros that I would have liked to save.
Florence Culture Shock 