Amsterdam and Germany

With free access to internet and a (relatively) slow day, I've had time to elaborate on a few things. This entry is long and relatively journal oriented, so feel free to skip over boring stuff.

Amsterdam:

After enjoying the culinary delights and generally warm weather and hospitality of Begium, Jenny and I arrived in the noticeably colder, more edgy Amsterdam. We quickly re-aclimated however, and had a great time in the home of pot, prostitutes, and physician-assisted suicide. While we didn't engage in any of those activities, we had a lovely time walking along canals, visiting museums, and dining in fun neighborhoods and plazas.

Our first stop was the Hotel d'Amsterdam, which was noticably less hospitable than our Bruges B&B. On our second morning in Amsterdam, while Jenny was taking one of her abnormally hot showers, the steam caused our hotel's fire alarm to go off. Wearing nothing but a towel myself, and not realizing that we were the cause of the alarm, I thought to myself, "this could not have happened at a less convenient time." As I struggled to find something more appropriate to wear during the evacuation, our telephone rang. The owner of the hotel yelled at me in broken English, "Yo shouwa!" Later, during breakfast and in front of the other hotel guests, the owner was sure to vocalize his displeasure with our mistake, talking loudly enough so that others knew his establishment was not at fault for the morning's unpleasant beginning. He told us it would have been "costy" if the fire trucks had shown up. We're not sure whether costly meant that money would come out of our pockets or his.

After our initial hotel stop, we visited the Van Gogh Museum, where we followed an audio guide tour of 200 chronologically arranged Van Gogh paintings. Van Gogh, like many impressionists, tried to break away from traditionally held notions of "art." Instead of portraying aristocracy or greek mythology, as traditional artists had done to that point, Van Gogh captured the essence of the lives of impoverished families and individuals, as well as rural life, which often coincided with poverty. We watched as Van Gogh absorbed the influences of different artists and regions. One highlight was viewing a pair of Van Gogh's still lifes (apples) side by side. One painting was completed before his time in Paris, the other after. The painting before Paris was dark, with longer brushstrokes, and frankly, it was not a very appealing piece. In Paris, influenced by other impressionists, Van Gogh realized that his style of painting (dark, long brushstrokes, etc.) was still very similar to the styles exhibited by "traditional" artists. Eager to distance himself as far from these artists as possible, Van Gogh began painting with brighter colors, and shorter brushstrokes. The post-Paris still life of apples is so different from the pre-Paris version, that they should be by different artists. Nearly everything Van Gogh painted after Paris is what we typically think of as Van Gogh. To see an example of Van Gogh's pre-Paris style, look at Wikipedia's entry for the painting "The Potato Eaters." It looks very un-Van Gogh.

Other highlights from the museum included Van Gogh's copies of Renoir and Millet paintings; Van Gogh's post-Arles landscape paintings, with their vibrant blue skies; demonsrations of the effect of Japanese art on Van Gogh and other impressionists (at Giverny, Monet's home and garden, we had wondered at the countless Japanese paintings hanging on walls) the painting of blossams that Van Gogh painted for his nephew (as I recall, Van Gogh had admitted himself to an asylum and, hearing that his nephew had been named Vincent, painted the blossams to represent the birth and possibility of the boy - the painting is among Van Gogh's finest, and the one I found most appealing and most touching); and finally, we enjoyed seeing Starry Night for a second time. When we were in New York visiting Grant and Jamie, we saw Starry Night at the MOMA. The painting was on loan to the Van Gogh museum for a special exhibition (kind of ironic), and was accompanied by hundreds of night paintings and drawings from other painters and from Van Gogh himself. Among the paintings was one from Rembrandt's studio. The exhibit, with Starry Night as the final act, displayed the ways that painters depict light in the midst of darkness, and the artistic tool chiariscuro (sp?).

After the Van Gogh museum, Jenny and I walked through the maze of bridges, canals, and streets. As I mentioned earlier, Amsterdam is much edgier than Bruges, its made-for-tourists, Belgian cousin. I thought that, after warm, hospitable, picture-perfect Bruges, Jenny would be bored with the less idyllic Dutch city, but, to my surprise, she loved the tangibility (if that makes sense) of Amsterdam. Her comment was, "If I had to choose one of the two cities to live in, I would definitely choose Amsterdam." Amsterdam definitely has some sex-appeal (no pun intended). Aside from being a more heterogeneous mix of tourists and locals, Amsterdam has larger streets lining its larger canals, some of the most stylin' shops and restaurants in the western world, and a very care free attitude.

We walked to a pizzeria in Amsterdam's famous Jordaan neighborhood, and enjoyed sitting at the window-side counter, eating wood fired pizza topped with thick slices of mozzarella, proscuitto, and arugula. Through the window we watched a Dutch man walk his graying, shaggy dog through the intersecting street. The man and dog stopped in front of our pizzeria, all the better to observe them. We named the dog Richard and said that, perhaps like his owner who was also graying and shaggy, Richard was going through a mid-life crisis. He used to be a well groomed hound, but had since gone for a more laid back look to go with his more laid back try at life.

We walked through many more neighborhoods, ultimately logging 8 miles or so. One of those neighborhoods was the ultra-shameless, "gotta see it once, but not too much of it," Red Light District. Jenny and I caught one corner of it, and were fortunate to see one of the more entertaining entertainers. This woman was pushing 300 pounds, and leaned forward, with one forearm on the windowframe and the other at her side. She was chewing gum and doing a minimal amount of "advertising." She is still in business, so apparently she knows her clientele. I apologize if I'm making a spectacle out of this person, but I have two disclaimers: 1)as the Red Light District is "no cameras allowed," I'm forced to give a written depiction, and 2) like Van Gogh (who ironically also depicted prostitutes), I have my influences -- on a family road trip across the German-Czech border, with my brother and me sitting in the backseat, my mom excitedly insisited that my dad pull over to take close-ups of Czech prostitutes who were standing on the side of the freeway. You see where I get my enthusiasm to capture all the elements of the human drama.

After our brief pass through the Red Light District, Jenny and I walked through Leidsplein Platz, enjoying the juggling acts in the center of the square, and the onlookers who were enjoying free entertainment from their restaurant patios.

The following morning, after our fire alarm scare, Jenny and I walked to the Anne Frank House. Jenny read up on Anne Frank before we came to Europe, and I remember it as one of the most touching museums from my previous visit. Having experienced the two-hour ticket line from my last visit, I bought tickets in advance on-line, giving Jenny and I front-of-the-line privliges. The museum still has some kinks to work out in the system, as the entrance for pre-paid guests (like Jenny and me) is located near the front of the other line. Additionally, the pre-paid guest door is locked, and a guest from the other line has to open it. Needless to say, guests aren't too excited about waiting in line for two hours, only to open the door for someone else to step in front of them. After being denied entry by a 45 year old-ish couple (and referred to the back of the normal line with a thumb over the shoulder and a smirk), a younger lady opened the door, allowing us to slip ahead of said couple and into the front of the line. I caught myself thinking, as I passed the now infuriated 45 year-old couple, "Don't hate the player, hate the game." (I do realize that being a player in the game of Anne Frank House advanced ticketing is nothing to be too proud of).

After the Anne Frank House, Jenny and I wandered aimlessly through the streets of Amsterdam, checking out the stylish clothing shops, admiring beads, shoes, random secondhand knickknacks, and ultimately buying an unusual, light purple zip-up sweatshirt for Jenny. After meandering out of the shopping sector of town, we happened upon the Gassan Diamond Museum and Shop. We were "just in time" for their free tour, and joined 25 other tourists in a showroom. After being briefed on the different elements of diamond pricing and quality, we were shown multiple carat diamonds with 121 facets. Apparently Gassan, one of Amsterdam's oldest diamond sellers, patented the 121 facet diamond cut, and it was actually pretty spectactular. Each additional facet cuts light a different way, adding to the diamond's brilliance. The normal diamond has 57 facets. The "tour" was nothing spectacular, but it was recommended by the tourism department, it offered us an opportunity to sit briefly, and it allowed Jenny to try on as many $50,000 rings as she wanted.

After the diamond tour, we reached the destination that we had originally set out for - The Dutch Resistance Museum. The first exhibit showed political comics from a Dutch man who had experienced the Nazi occupation of The Netherlands. Some comics depicted the lack of preparation that the Dutch had undertaken prior to WWII, relying on an army which hadn't advanced technologically since 1900 to back-up Dutch claims of neutrality (With a weak defense, the Nazi's knew the Dutch wouldn't put up a fight, and that their atlantic coast line would be prime real estate in European strategy. It took Germany 4 days to take The Netherlands). Another comic showed two sets of the same Dutch people in a subway -once during WWII, and once after. The WWII depiction showed several men in uniforms of the NSB, which were essentially Dutch Nazis (?). The other depiction, post-WWII, showed the men, now older, without uniform. The other passangers age between the two depictions as well. I'm not sure what kind of political climate enveloped the comics, but it was interesting to see the artists statement/comment, "The same people that were once Dutch Nazi officers are now your friendly neighbor. Strange."

The main exhibit depicted different ways the Dutch sabbotaged Nazi war efforts or resisted the Nazis in general. School teachers hid Jewish children, people boycotted films during Nazi occupation, as the films were filled with Nazi propaganda, and intricate sabbotage societies were created.

From the Dutch Resistance museum, we grabbed our bags, ate nachos at the Hard Rock Cafe, and caught an early night train to Fussen, Germany. We enjoyed talking to our cabinmates, Kevin and Garrett from San Francisco, about career aspirations, Utah and California athletics, and the various stops we had made on our trips. Kevin and Garrett were enourmously more couth than previous cabinmates, such as the Indian man who coughed into my face for 25 minutes on the way home from Varanasi.

Southern Germany (Bavaria):

Jenny and I woke up as our train approached Augsburg, Germany, where we transferred to a train heading south to Fussen. On our way into Fussen, we enjoyed spectacular views of Bavaria's mountains, sight of Neuschwanstein Castle - our final destination. Neuschwanstein was built in the late 1800s, by King Ludwig II, one of the last kings of Bavaria, prior to its assimilation into the Weimar Republic (you may want to check a reference on the last part, it was my interpretation of our tour guide's commentary). King Ludwig died mysteriously prior to the completion of the castle, and it was left unfinished, as it is seen today. Neuschwanstein is perhaps most famous for its role as Walt Disney's model for his fiberglass fairytale castle at the Disney resorts.

Jenny and I enjoyed walking up the path to the castle, perched among forests, cliffs, and a mountain stream. After our tour of the interior, complete with its own artificial cave, we walked down the back way, past the Marienbrucke bridge, with a spectacular view of Neuschwanstein's exterior...under renovation. Hopefully this is only a once in a quarter-century occurrence, and we can see it with our kids down the road.

After our morning at Neuschwanstein, we caught the 1:00 pm train to Munich, where we took in BMW World and the BMW Museum. Each morning during the last two years, I've walked into my Grandma Calder's garage, past my Uncle Scott's black, BMW M3 convertible, and into my vermillion red Geo Prism. While the Prism is fitted with a sun-roof, said sun-roof is only two-thirds retractable. Needless to say, the M3 is a better looking and higher performing automobile, and I've had a cursory interest in luxury cars since parking next to one regularly. I fed this interest in Munich. I don't know that I'll ever own a luxury car (although the way Jenny gets jobs, we might be given one eventually), but it's fun to think about them.

One of the coolest exhibits at the museum, and frankly one of the coolest I've ever seen, was a room filled with small silver balls suspended from the ceiling by near-invisible metal wires. The balls started out in a single horizontal plane, before moving quickly into different shapes. Some balls went up, others went down, until the shape of a BMW was perfectly apparent. Other shapes and designs were formed, while a female voice, alternating between German and English described the seamless quality of BMW design. Among the other highlights of BMW World and the BMW Museum were: a $240,000 Neiman Marcus Edition BMW; the original James Bond BMWs used by Pierce Brosnan; a display on "M Power," the force behind the M series; actual BMWs from the various eras of a certain series, dating from the 1920s to 2008. I couldn't help but think about the popularity of the museum, and cars as a form of artistic expression today. By driving a bright, short stroke, vermillion Prism, I feel like I'm in good company.

After tiring ourselves out looking at beautiful cars, Jenny and I walked across a skybridge to the site of the 1972 Munich Summer Olympics. The swimming complex was converted for use by the public, and now features children's pools, locker rooms, and plenty of diving boards and platforms. While planning our trip, I knew that we would want to somehow wash off between night trains (Amsterdam to Fussen, Munich to Berlin), and the Olympic Swimming Hall was the perfect spot. Not only were we able to get hot showers after our swim, but we also inserted a dose of adrenaline into our trip by jumping off the 8 and 10 meter diving platforms. Additionally, we enjoyed getting a taste for the Munich public swimming scene, complete with absolutely random haircuts. Unfortunately, as in the Red Light District, taking photos of other people isn't really kosher at public swimming pool.

From the Olympic Swimming Hall, we ventured back towards the center of Munich for dinner, and were impressed by the night life. Crowds of people filed into restaurants, beer halls, and shops, and we followed right behind them, through the main squares and past fountains. We ate weiner schnitzel with cranberry sauce and potatoes at the Weisses Brauhaus. We then walked down to the Hoffbrauhaus, just to have a look, and on to the Frauenkirche Cathedral. Ultimately we ended up on another night train headed for Berlin.

Berlin:

The most incredible thing about Berlin, to me, is that it was literally at the center of the action in the western world for the better part of the last century. Between WWII and the Cold War, Berlin was at the center of the conflict. Unsurprisingly, the majority of the things we did in and around Berlin had to do with those two eras.

Our first stop, on the outskirts of Berlin, was Sachsenhausen Concentration Camp. I had been to Dachau, near Munich, as a teenager, and remembered how moving a visit to a concentration camp could be. Call me crazy, but something about visiting a place like a concentration camp makes me want to be a better person/neighbor/friend/etc. Sachsenhausen was no different. Sachsenhausen was the camp nearest to Berlin, and housed over 200,000 prisoners, including many British and Russian POWs, and Josef Stalin's son. Altogether, an estimated 100,000 people died at Sachsenhausen. After WWII, Sachsenhausen was located in East Germany and was used by the Soviets to house German political prisoners, many of whom died.

Without going into too much detail about the ways Nazis harassed and terrorized innocent prisoners (which were pretty gruesome), I want to describe one of the harrasment methods unique to Sachsenhausen. While Sachsenhausen prisoners made boots for the German army, those boots had to be tested for use. The Nazis wanted to see how well different materials for soles held up while walking on varying surfaces. They made a track, composed of different sections of stones, deep sand, broken asphalt, etc., and had prisoners walk 18 to 24 miles per day on the track. When prisoners were given boots, sizes weren't taken into account. Many prisoners were completely debilitated before long because the shoes were 3-5 sizes too small. From this and other types of harassment, prisoners became desperate, and occasionally threw themselves into the nearby electrical fence in order to end the misery.

Our first stop within the city center, and a less depressing sight than Sachsenhausen, was the Pergamon Museum, with its collection of middle eastern scultures and the Pergamon altar. What I really wanted to see at the Pergamon, though, was Ishtar Gate, a striking blue and yellow glazed tile gate and processional wall that was built 600 years before Christ during the reign of the Babylonian King Nebbuchanezzar II. Aside from witnessing the beauty of the gate, the missing tiles of which have been replaced by artificial look alikes, it was awesome (no better word) to see how things looked at the time of Lehi and Nephi. They were actually surprisingly impressive. Ishtar Gate was one of the absolute highlights of our trip.

• The Berlin Wall
• The Brandenburg Gate
• Dinner on Simon Dach street
• A climb to the top of the Reichstag at sunset - This was one of the more memorable activities of our time in Berlin(and free to boot). The Reichstag is the seat of German government, much like our national Capitol building. The Reichstag has a pretty dramatic story behind it, which I'll only touch on now. There is a famous picture of a Russian soldier raising the Russian flag over a building at the end of WWII. This is the Reichstag. Surprisingly, Hitler's Third Reich was the only German governing body not to govern from the Reichstag. Hitler governed from the Berlin Opera House. Anyway, the Reichstag was reconstructed after unification, and now features a large glass dome on top, which looks into sessions of government, symbolizing transparency. The public can climb a winding ramp to the top of the glass dome, with views of the entire city.
• The Stasi Museum - For some good old fashioned East German fun, Jenny and I spent the morning touring the former headquarters of the East German secret police - The Stasi. The two of us had read a book called Stasiland (which I highly recommend) before we left, and were eager to see where it all went down. The coolest part about the building was the fact that they have left the offices as they were in January 1990, when the building was stormed by East German citizens, energized by their first tastes of freedom only two months earlier. The offices no longer contain files in the cabinets, but they give you a great idea of how and where the leaders worked. The building and offices are textbook communist, and remind me why I love the creativity fostered by a free market system. Among the more interesting displays at the museum were smell jars. Stasi investigators would have people sit on a chair during interrogations. The padding of the chair, on which the person sat, was covered by a cloth. After the interrogation, this cloth was immediately placed inside a jar and kept, for identification purposes. To me it seems like there were probably more efficient ways to identify people in the 1960s-19802, but I guess they wanted to cover all the bases.
• The Memorial to the Murdered Jews of Europe
• Well engineered Subway sandwich
• Potsdamer Platz
• Topography of Terror
• Checkpoint Charlie
• The Tiergarten - One of the best parts about this trip is having 624 uninterrupted waking hours to talk to Jenny. It's reassuring for us to know that we can still talk to each other, and that we enjoy it more as it goes on. The Tiergarten, a massive park in Berlin, opposite the Reichstag, is a great place for talking, and the two of us spent our last hour and a half in Berlin walking through the paths and sitting on the grass of the former hunting ground.