We took the train up into the Netherlands, a quick experience since everything is so close in Europe. First stop, The Hague. I had been here in 2008 when I was living in Copenhagen, so I had an idea of what to expect. We didn’t have much time here (needing to be in Amsterdam the next day to meet a friend), so we got stuck right in. The main rush – getting to the International Criminal Court on time because you can actually go in and watch their proceedings!!! The case was against Ntaganda, a person accused of 13 counts of war crimes and 5 crimes against humanity allegedly committed in the Democratic Republic of the Congo in 2002/3. Having arrived with about an hour of court time left, we were turned away – not because they were finished, not because there was sensitive information being heard, but because Laurence wasn’t wearing pants. Apparently, you must wear pants to court, not shorts. Even if no-one is going to see you and even if you have travelled a long way to see it. Last time I was in The Hague I watched a proceeding against an alleged (and subsequently convicted) war criminal at the International Criminal Tribunal for the former Yugoslavia. I happened to be attending with a Bosnian refugee from the same war. It was an incredible experience that I wanted to share with Laurence, but next time he will have to wear pants to see it.
Amsterdam, Laurence’s holy grail of Europe. It has been 9 years of hearing Laurence complain that when he came over to see me in Denmark that I didn’t take him to the Van Gogh Museum in Amsterdam to see the sunflowers (a sarcasm misunderstanding not worth re-hushing anymore). This time, it was the first thing that I did. We met our friend, also met in Belize/Guatemala/Costa Rica, and headed straight there. We walked up, bought tickets, then went to line up for the entry. After a short discussion with the security, it turned out that the line was to buy the tickets and since we already had ours we could go straight in (oops…I am sure that we were hated that day). Laurence got his fill of Van Gogh and I got to forget about his complaining.
The next day we all headed out to Alkmaar, a cheese town in the northern part of the country. We watched the way in which cheese was traditionally bought and sold in the town and were lucky enough to try some of the cheese that they were buying (delicious, I could eat it every day). The afternoon was spent wandering around town and exploring the canals.
Our last day with our friend was spent going to the Rijksmuseum, a wonderful art gallery. We spent a good amount of time looking at the painting, sculptures, and other items that the museum had to offer. I must say that I prefer the paintings of Van Gogh to those of Rembrandt, but I only looked at the Night Watch, perhaps there are better?
For our remaining time in Amsterdam we wandered around the town. We saw windmills, parks, the red-light district, and always with an incredible number of tourists – when did this little city get so many tourists? At some points, it was incredibly hard just to walk down the street.
We made one last day trip out to Zaanse Schans, a little town with picturesque houses and a lot of windmills. It was an experience but a little too touristy for us. Although the free cheese was good!
