Tony, with his newly acquired hat, on our overnight train from Berlin to Brussels and then to Amsterdam. A very creepy Indian man occupied the bottom bunk on the left. He never said a word, just stared and smiled at us all long after we turned out the lights.
The large structure in the background is the Rijksmuseum.
The boys near
Centraal Station. Spencer's cousin, Chantal, took the photo.
Our hostel, less than a 10 minute walk from
Centraal Station and right in the middle of Amsterdam.
Dam Square, facing the Royal Palace.
The National Monument. A more roundabout approach than Prague might have taken, but I can appreciate that.
Houseboats on the canals. The stained-wood version looks more house than boat. Amsterdam is called "Venice of the North," but I think that's a little misleading. The canals are much wider, and you can actually fit a car down a street in Amsterdam. Plus, unlike Venice, the entire city doesn't smell like an aviary.
Dutch is an incredible language. Many sounds are shared by both English and Dutch; but, it's spelling those familiar sounds that's the tricky part. The Dutch also have a fondness for taking separate words and running them together into one, giant word.
Spencer and Chantal in a park near
the Rijksmuseum. Behind them is a cool campaign for an English-speaking travel and information service within the city.
In a town with little to no rules, there is one governing rule accepted by hippies and professionals alike: the bike is king. Spencer was actually hit by a bike within three hours of stepping off the overnight train. Silent and swift, the last thing you'll hear before being run flat is the deceptively-calm "bring, bring" of the bike's bell.
It is like this on every street. With so many bikes comes a great deal of theft and trade in stolen bikes. We were told that, when buying a bike for use in Amsterdam, one should purchase the cheapest bike and most expensive lock they can afford.
Walking into the
Rijksmuseum. The museum houses the largest collection of Dutch classical art on Earth. Unfortunately, a great portion of the museum remains closed until 2010 while
extensive renovations are being completed. But the 200 most famous works, including paintings by Rembrandt, Vermeer, Van
der Helst and others, remain open to the public.
Taken at the
Rijksmuseum. We are definitely not supposed to have this photo.
Anne Frank House. Sadly, remodeling was taking place when we showed up.
Dutch
frites.
This is
FEBO, a sort of automated fast-food restaurant native to Holland. Tony was the only one brave enough to sample the wares.
The Pancake Bakery, next to the Anne Frank House. Featured is a bowl of traditional Dutch syrup.
Mmmmmm, pancakes and Heineken.
Agent Tony Box. Man of mystery, man of danger.
Tony, with his newly acquired hat, on our overnight train from Berlin to Brussels and then to Amsterdam. A very creepy Indian man occupied the bottom bunk on the left. He never said a word, just stared and smiled at us all long after we turned out the lights.
The large structure in the background is the Rijksmuseum.
The boys near Centraal Station. Spencer's cousin, Chantal, took the photo.
Our hostel, less than a 10 minute walk from Centraal Station and right in the middle of Amsterdam.
Dam Square, facing the Royal Palace.
The National Monument. A more roundabout approach than Prague might have taken, but I can appreciate that.
Houseboats on the canals. The stained-wood version looks more house than boat. Amsterdam is called "Venice of the North," but I think that's a little misleading. The canals are much wider, and you can actually fit a car down a street in Amsterdam. Plus, unlike Venice, the entire city doesn't smell like an aviary.
Dutch is an incredible language. Many sounds are shared by both English and Dutch; but, it's spelling those familiar sounds that's the tricky part. The Dutch also have a fondness for taking separate words and running them together into one, giant word.
Spencer and Chantal in a park near the Rijksmuseum. Behind them is a cool campaign for an English-speaking travel and information service within the city.
In a town with little to no rules, there is one governing rule accepted by hippies and professionals alike: the bike is king. Spencer was actually hit by a bike within three hours of stepping off the overnight train. Silent and swift, the last thing you'll hear before being run flat is the deceptively-calm "bring, bring" of the bike's bell.
It is like this on every street. With so many bikes comes a great deal of theft and trade in stolen bikes. We were told that, when buying a bike for use in Amsterdam, one should purchase the cheapest bike and most expensive lock they can afford.
Walking into the Rijksmuseum. The museum houses the largest collection of Dutch classical art on Earth. Unfortunately, a great portion of the museum remains closed until 2010 while extensive renovations are being completed. But the 200 most famous works, including paintings by Rembrandt, Vermeer, Van der Helst and others, remain open to the public.
Taken at the Rijksmuseum. We are definitely not supposed to have this photo.
Anne Frank House. Sadly, remodeling was taking place when we showed up.
Dutch frites.
This is FEBO, a sort of automated fast-food restaurant native to Holland. Tony was the only one brave enough to sample the wares.
The Pancake Bakery, next to the Anne Frank House. Featured is a bowl of traditional Dutch syrup.
Mmmmmm, pancakes and Heineken.
Agent Tony Box. Man of mystery, man of danger.
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