Van Gogh and chubby hotdogs

With our tummies full of yoghurt, cereal, ham and cheese we drop a bag of dirty washing off to be laundered nearby, only 8 euro to have our clothes washed and dried – well worth it I think. Museumplein is not far from the hotel according to the map and the rain is holding off, when crossing streets I have to be aware of buses, trams and bicycles as well as cars and they drive on the opposite side of the road so it really does my head in.

I have been to the Rijksmuseum before and Marty isn’t that keen to see it so the decision is made to go to the Van Gogh museum, entry is 14 euro, expensive I thought, but the museum is an excellent space and the collection extensive. In addition to seeing the progression of Van Gogh’s art there is a Montmartre exhibition of posters and Picasso in Paris. We follow the crowd slowly in some areas and impatiently walk past them in others, much of Van Gogh’s work, like the impressionists, is best viewed from a couple of metres away and some of the best views are looking back as we climb the stairs to the next level. As much as I love art, I’m not the type that can sit and look at a painting for any length of time so we were out of the museum in a couple of hours.

Lunch today is a chubby hotdog (I’m sensing a theme) by the water, it is tasty and cheap and we are able to sit in the sun for a little while. The trees in Amsterdam, especially in Museumplein remind me of the whomping willow in the Harry Potter movies, I’m sure that they’re quite appealing when covered in foliage. The many souvenir shops in Amsterdam confound us, we’re not sure what to buy and Marty is after a particular type of shirt, we leave it for another day and instead head to the supermarket for snack food and fruit. A bottle of Rose from the Lorie Valley is only 3,50 euro, Australian wines also feature. A beer and wine at the Cafe Hoppe near Singel is in order, we sit and watch the world go by as the temperature drops and we contemplate what to have for dinner that night, there won’t be anymore kebabs.

Our bartender is the chef and part owner of Blazers Brasserie and the other owner takes our order, tired of fast food Marty chooses the rib eye fillet with frites and grilled vegetables in a red wine jus, I order the duck with mashed parsnip and stewed pear. It is a feast that is a far cry from the meals of the last two days and a most welcome one, I washed it down with a glass of shiraz from Chile and all was good with the world.

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