We left the Atlanta Airport at about 1 PM on Friday. I think big airports are the some of the coolest places in the world. So much energy and excitement, anticipation, relief and so many people just passing by one another en route to another place. I feel sorry for people too afraid to travel by plane. I do some of my best thinking on planes. It's always easier to collect my thoughts when I know I have no where else to be, nothing else to be doing but sitting in this seat. The hard work's been done. So I'll just sit back and write, or read or watch movies or eat or chat with the person sitting next to me.
The sun was visible over the horizon because we were flying so far north. |
Taken flying over Scotland. |
It was 6AM Sunday morning, and about 7:30 by the time we got to the hotel. Very posh boutique hotel. I was tired and my mom had worked all night, so we took a nap until about 12. A hotel bus took us to the Central Train Station in Amsterdam. Last summer, my family stayed in a townhouse about a ten minute walk from the Train Station and it was nice being somewhat familiar with the area.
We headed straight towards the Anne Frank House, the small house turned museum where the Frank family hid during Nazi Occupation to avoid concentration camps. Actually walking through the Secret Annex where she lived was so surreal. I read The Diary of A Young Girl when I was in middle school and it could be easy to pass it off as just another historical memoir, but standing in the rooms where she wrote those words hit me in a really deep place. Anne's words will never be forgotten
In 1941, Anne's older sister Margot wrote in a letter to a friend:
"Times change, people change, thoughts about good & evil change, about true & false.
But what remains fast and steady is the affection that your friends feel for you,
those who always have your best interest at heart. Margot"
I stopped in this little cafe to get a coffee and managed to spend 15 minutes talking to the store owner, this short Indian man, probably in his sixties about America and Georgia. Conversation went something like this:
Me: Yes, Atlanta. Where the Olympics were, in the south.
SOM: Oh yes, Atlanta! (said it like AUT-lanta) Georgia! Jimmy Carter! The peanut farmer! I love peanuts! You have good peanuts in Georgia!
Me: Yes we do! It's a great city, I like it here too though.
SOM: Well peanuts are a great food you know. Peanuts were Elvis' favorite food too. Peanut butter & banana. He's from Georgia too, no?
Me: No, Elvis is actually from Mississippi, about 5 hours away from Atlanta.
SOM: Oh but that's still pretty close in American standards, I mean, it would take days to get to the other side of the country!
It's times like this, when I just smile and wonder what I did to deserve meeting awesome people, like this guy.
Mother & I wander the streets for the rest of the afternoon. I like the people here. I like their attitudes and that they ride bikes. Bikes have the right of way over pedestrians in Amsterdam. There are bike garages, bikes scattered throughout the sidewalks chained to something that won't move. It's fascinating.
I would bet the bike repair business is going strong in Amsterdam. |
Chained on a Bridge. |
Madame Tussaud's Wax Museum aaaand... more bikes. |
It was almost 9PM but still completely light outside. Mom and I weren't ready to go back to the hotel just yet. We stopped at a street market and bought 2 watercolor paintings. The paintings were painted from the same place, one composed with straight lines and realistic, described as "before the coffeeshop". The second painting has brighter colors and whismical lines as the painter joked "This is what the street would look like after the coffeeshop." Oh, the humor.
My sweet new German friends. If only I could remember their names... |
Then back to the hotel, watch some Jersey Shore before going to bed around 11PM. Wake up call at 5:45. What a day.
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