Actually posting in a timely matter. Go figure.

Hey all,

Miracle of miracles: I'm actually posting when I said I was going to. I know, I wasn't expecting it either. However, I just got back from Steph's where we watched American Beauty, and it got me in such a creative mood that it almost makes me want to skip my April travels and sit here and pen the next great American novel. As eager as I am, however, I'm never going to be able to write anything decent unless I live a bit so that probably wouldn't be my best option. Updating my blog, however, is a whole other story. I think I might throw in a picture or two as well. Next thing you know, it'll almost seem professional. Anyway, on to Amsterdam.

Swansea University has a Student Union which organizes various trips throughout the year that students can sign up for where the transportation and accommodation are all taken care of with a pretty decent discount. As part of my goal to take advantage of every opportunity that comes my way here, I signed up for the trip to Amsterdam. I'm going to be honest; I didn't really know anything about Amsterdam before I went except for a few brief things I looked up on Wikipedia before I left. Lisa, unfortunately, had other plans so she didn't come with the rest of the group but having a group of four did mean that we were able to get the best seats on the coach bus which had a full-size table in the center, allowing us to pile on treats and play cards throughout the ride. It was fantastic. The coach took us to Dover (where I saw the cliffs of Dover which have been made famous through a song called "The Cliffs of Dover," known for its elaborate guitar riffs. I'm not familiar with the song so I didn't really care much but if any of you do, there you go.) where we got on a ferry to cross over to the mainland of Europe (my first time being there!). We landed in France and drove through Belgium on our way to the Netherlands. We traveled overnight so the bus ride consisted of sporadic attempts at sleep so that when we made a mandatory stop at a rest station, no one even knew what country we were in. How crazy is that.

Our sweet table on the coach. 

We arrived in Amsterdam at 8 in the morning. For some reason, the bus driver didn't drop us off in front of the hostel but decided to drop us off about a half a mile away. I think the first thing I noticed about the city was how many people rode their bikes. I think it's safe to say that bikes are far more popular than cars. When you combine that with the fact that they have cable cars, basically a train on wires that runs through the center of the city, this place seemed nothing like the cities I'm used to. One girl got hit by a bike on our way to the hostel, and there were bells coming from every direction as we walked along, clearly unaccustomed to their road rules.

Cable cars that function the same way as buses do in most cities.

A bike parking garage. I promise I'm not exaggerating on the sheer amount of bicyclists.

When we finally made it to the hostel, we dumped off our luggage and headed out for the day, rather tired and weary from traveling all night. We started out by just walking through the city, soaking in the atmosphere. The layout and architecture of the city was especially striking. Amsterdam is well-known for its canals and bridges; you can't walk down more than a few streets before you run into one. Because of this, the canals are teeming with houseboats, mostly run-down with the shades closed for privacy but fairly colorful, canal boats giving tours, and, my personal favorites, dozens and dozens of swans. I'm always surprised when I see animals in a big city--it just seems too dangerous for it to be a good idea. I suppose people must feed them scraps of food all the time though because at times, it looked like a scene out of The Notebook. Besides the canals and bridges, I was also quite struck by the architecture. Most of the buildings are built in the same manner: a flat, sheer, vertical surface with a grid-like window pattern with no shutters or adornments. Most of the buildings are roughly the same height and are lined up against each other in a way so that one building doesn't stick out further than the one next to it. Some of the older buildings definitely seemed influenced by other architectural styles, perhaps acting as a nostalgic nod to past nations that have conquered Amsterdam at one time or another.

Typical street in Amsterdam with the similarly-styled buildings lining up along the canal.

We went into a lot of gift shops the first morning there, and I got to recognize the typical tourist staples the Dutch are keen to advertise: windmills, tulips, wooden shoes, and their lax laws concerning prostitution and marijuana. Amsterdam is the only major city in the world (I'm 90% sure.) that legalizes prostitution and marijuana. From what I've heard, this is so that the police can focus on "real issues." According to the guidebook, if you're looking for coffee in Amsterdam, you go to a cafe but if you're looking to get pot, you go to any place that's called a "coffeshop" which is their way of trying to make it classy or something. The coffeeshops are pretty easy to spot as their neon signs are usually green with a big green sticker of authentication on the outside to verify that it is a legal pot-selling establishment. As far as the prostitution is concerned, that happens in the Red Light District, deriving its name from the red neon signs displayed from outside the risque shops in the area. There were lots of humorous souvenirs in the shops which played off of these trademarks which I was tempted to buy as a joke.

Amsterdam is definitely a city that a tourist can get through in a weekend and feel satisfied. I think my favorite part of the trip was when we went to the Anne Frank Museum, designed out of the building that Anne and her family lived in while hiding from the Nazis for seven years before getting caught and sent to the concentration camps where, sadly, Anne died, leaving her father as her family's sole survivor. Her diary (really diaries) was saved by friends of Otto Frank. Otto published them upon his release from the concentration camp, fulfilling Anne's dream of being a published author, albeit posthumously. He then preserved the house they had hid in after the book reached widespread popularity to promote a message of acceptance--something which he and his family didn't experience. There's a quiet sense of reverence and awe about the building. The ticket line snaked around the surrounding buildings, allowing us to stand outside in her neighborhood for a while. I had read snippets of Anne's diary in middle school and read her diary in its entirety in high school. She was a talented writer, especially for a girl so young, with so much love and optimism that as a reader, I couldn't help but be in awe of her relentless spirit. Even though her writing made me empathize her and allowed me to "hear" her talk, it was when we were standing outside that it really hit me that she was a flesh-and-bone young girl who existed outside of the pages of a library book. The buildings I looked at were likely the same ones she had looked at whenever she'd visit her father at his office before they went into hiding. It was one of the few views that she would see of the outside when they had ever dared to open the blinds. I've mentioned before how intrigued I was at the architecture. It makes you feel like you're hiding out in the open. Looking at the face of the street, each building--each window--is essentially the same as the one next to it. There's nothing to make yours stand out just as there's nothing to make yours go unnoticed. For the Jewish people hiding from the Nazis, it must have felt like they were part of the devil's lottery ticket: pick the right window, and you're caught.

One of the buildings down Anne's street. Below: Video taken on the canal tour of her street.

Walking through the house itself was really neat as well. There were quotes from the diary enlarged on the wall and displays of various documents scattered around the main levels. Once we got to the part of the house where you had to pass behind the hidden bookcase to reach their hiding space, it felt eerie, as though you could easily turn back time and see them silently going about their business. The kitchen sink was rusted; the nails, still in the wall, were bent from use. Anne's pictures were hanging on the wall of her shared bedroom, just as it was during her seven years of imprisonment. You could see the tree out the attic window that Anne would stare at for hours at a time everyday, longing for freedom. It was, without question, incredibly moving and powerful. In one of the final exhibits, Anne's actual diaries were on display. You could see her neat handwriting and the places where she had crossed out a phrase and rewritten it, striving for perfection and precision. At the end, there were a few exhibits which talked about how the museum came to be. It was touching to see video of Otto Frank speaking about his daughter. You could really feel how deeply he cared for her and how devastated he was that she would never get to grow up. The preservation of the building came to have another layer of meaning as it was a personal memorial for Anne, an expression of her father's love and sorrow. He spent the rest of his life promoting Anne's message, tirelessly campaigning for the restoration of the house while answering every piece of fan mail he got (including one sent by Bill Gates which was on display at the museum). If any of you ever go to Amsterdam, do not miss out on this experience. It's the most emotional and moving place I've been to yet.

One of my other favorite activities in Amsterdam was when we went to the Van Gogh museum. It contains the largest collection of Van Gogh paintings in the world. What I hadn't expected was the vast number of paintings by Picasso, Monet, and Manet, making the museum a hidden treasure trove in the heart of the city. I got to see some of these artists' most famous paintings in person, something which I am so incredibly fortunate to be able to do. Most notable were Van Gogh's self-portrait and his sunflower painting. It's a surreal experience to see these world famous paintings, heretofore only seen in the pages of a history book, right in front of me. They are the A-listers of the art world. While that was certainly impressive, I think I was more impressed by some of his lesser known paintings. There were three in particular that struck me: two Picassos and one Van Gogh. Picasso had a dark period in his life following the suicide of a close friend. He painted a portrait of said friend upon his death which had a haunting beauty about it. Apparently the layers of paint on the bullet hole were significantly thicker than the rest of the portrait as though Picasso was having a difficult time coping with the death. Following this tragedy, he had a phase where he did monochromatic paintings, mostly in shades of blue. There was one where there was a woman standing naked in a messy room which stood out to me because she just seemed so vulnerable. In the Van Gogh exhibit, I was mesmerized by a painting of some sailboats out at sea because of the unique perspective he took on it. There was no shoreline; the waves were simply crashing into the bottom of the frame, projecting a feeling of vastness and eternity. There was also a really neat display of some other seaside paintings, one of which was considered to be the first well-known painting to be done outside completely from life (i.e. painted entirely outside instead of in a studio). There was a bit of a conspiracy theory behind it but unfortunately, I can't remember the name of the artist off-hand. If I remember later, I'll try to look that up and make a note of it in a later entry because it was gorgeous work and definitely my style of artistry.

Alright, getting near the end here. Not that this has anything to do with the Dutch culture, but Rachael, Stephanie, and I watched some TV in our room one night after a long day of sight-seeing, and Kenan and Kel was on. How amazing is that? Of course, we couldn't miss out on such nostalgia, and it was SO much fun getting to hang out and laugh at such a great show from our childhood. I almost found it funnier now than I did back when I was watching them as an 8-year-old. Wonderful. And, I read an article the other day that 90s programming is coming back to Nick at Nite where they will have a block of time from midnight to 2 a.m. called "The 90s are all that" showing re-runs of classic 90s shows. Apparently this transpired from all of the Facebook groups of college kids reminiscing about programs of the past. Can you tell how pumped I am? By the way, if you're interested in reliving some classic 90s, here's a clip from the episode we saw in Amsterdam (although ours had Dutch subtitles):

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tQhW230D79o

That pretty much sums up my experiences in Amsterdam. Obviously I can't (and won't) fit it all in so I have a bit more to tell you all when I talk to you next. Phew, that was a lot longer than I intended it to be. I hope it makes up for the lack of posting over the last few weeks. Keep your fingers crossed that I can actually catch up before I leave for Dublin on Tuesday. Talk to you all later.

Hi. It's been way too long. I'm so sorry.

Hey everyone,

So sorry it's taken a while to write. It's been pretty crazy busy the past few weeks, so I've had to cut down to the essentials of school and traveling. Alright, I believe I last left you guys in London with some brief highlights of my time there. Just to wrap that up really quickly, a few things I missed:

This was my first time staying in a hostel, and it certainly was a different experience than staying in a hotel. There were about 8 or so bunkbeds crammed into a room when we finally got in at 12:30. There were about 5 grown men already asleep so we had to save our discussions about where to go and what to do for the morning. There were 5 of us and since I hadn't yet been "by myself" (from the coach buses), I volunteered to be in the bunk above some random guy who we named Boama (I guarantee you I botched that spelling.) after a professor someone in the group knew. We figured that all the guys in the room were probably bus drivers of some sort because we heard them all leave at 6 in the morning.

We started off at the London Eye which is a staple (and rightly so) of London tourism. I had taken only taken a few pictures on the walk over when my camera suddenly broke. (I don't know camera lingo so Marissa, forgive me.) The zoom lens in the front was jammed and refused to pop out, rendering my camera useless. Luckily, after about 45 minutes of sporadic tries to fix it, Nicole managed to get it working again. Phew. There's nothing worse than traveling without a camera.

We really lucked out with the weather. I believe this was the weekend immediately following the huge snowstorm that happened back home so I almost felt guilty enjoying the 50 degree weather and sunshine. A lot of the trip kind of felt like deja vu so I don't know that I enjoyed it as much as I did when I went over New Year's. However, the feeling of familiarity made the trip oddly comforting because of the hint of nostalgia.

Alright, I'm going to try to do an Amsterdam post as well as my second trip to London post this weekend and catch up a little bit. Also, be on the lookout for an update on spring break plans. I'm not bringing my laptop with me with I travel during my April break so don't expect any posts until afterwards when I will do my best to catch up as quickly as possible. I hope all of you are doing well and that the weather is clearing up a bit.