Welkom in Amsterdam

Central Station

Worn out from our Icelandair flights, Derek and I arrived in Holland and caught a train from the airport to Amsterdam Centraal Station. It was early afternoon, and we found a small shop selling waffles and other Dutch sweets and settled down on the tall bar stools to snack - and use the wifi - to connect with our host. We walked to our room (an Airbnb FAIL) on Spuistraat street and after a long process trying to get settled (wrong address posted, failure in communication, restricted international phone and data access, and no sheets on the bed, no shower on site) we crashed for several hours.

Despite jet lag and AirBnB fails, beautiful Amsterdam architecture keeps your spirits high

We woke up around 9 pm and headed out to find food. Most kitchens close by 9, so our options were limited. I am drawn to things that look unique, or old, or cool - and I saw the building for D'Vijff Vlieghen restaurant and pulled Derek across the street. The building was ancient, and had the year it was built in the 1600's scrolled across the front. The door was on the side of the building, under a striped awning and curly cursive sign hanging above. The place was full of antiques in the entryway, but tragically, they were closed. They referred us to a place down the street - Lucius - and we walked there with a couple from South Carolina who were equally disappointed in the closed kitchen. Brightly lit and tiled walls set off well against a Finding Nemo-worthy salt water fish tank. The cruel irony was that those fish repeatedly watched their relatives come out of the kitchen on a plate or in a stew.


I tried mussels for the first time (they're big here and in Belgium) cooked in white wine. The waitress showed me how to fish them out of the steamer basket and pull them away from their shells to eat with a tiny fork. I tried not to examine them too closely, and enjoyed them (and their partner, the lobster bisque with cognac cream) thoroughly with my wine (carefully measured exactly to the half litre line on our little caraf). Derek had five different kinds of grilled fish, with a special aoli served in a huge shell. We were the youngest couple in the place by at least two decades, and were under-dressed (as we typically are on trips like this, because we just stumble on places), but the wait staff was pleasant and patient and we loved every bite.

I slept 3 hours, and spent the rest of the night mentally planning how we could escape this poorly managed room without losing money, and what I would do on my own for the next three days as Derek was at his conference.