Amsterdam - No Money for Food

Here is the story of how Blair and Dena almost ran out of money on their trip to Amsterdam.

The first thing you need to know is that we are credit card people. We put everything on AmEx in order to earn sky miles. It's the rare day when I'm walking around with more than .32 cents in my wallet. Blair is a little better--he usually carries a spare $20.

The Rick Steves guide book which was our bible on the trip made mention that thrifty Dutch merchants prefer cash over credit cards in order to save on transaction fees. Note the word "prefer." Not "won't accept" but just a gentle "prefer." Here is where our troubles began.

We took some cash with us but not much--maybe a couple hundred. For those unaware, the dollar happens to suck these days, so a couple hundred was really worth only a bit more than half that once we exchanged it. Still, we weren't worried. Every time we've travelled internationally in the past, we've used credit cards.

Well, that reality came to a screeching halt in Amsterdam. A train ride to see the famous tulip gardens really set us back when they didn't take credit cards and we'd already purchased our tickets for the garden online from home. (Mass transit not taking credit cards??? C'mon!) After a few meals, a book souvenir from the Anne Frank House (where their machine wasn't working and we had to pay cash) and a few museums that only took cash, guess what? Dena and Blair were br0ke. Our last day in Amsterdam we had the equivalent of about $30--and we had 3 days of vacation left.

So go to the ATM, right? Wrong. We didn't bring our debit card because we'd never had cause to use it on any prior trip. Call Visa and American Express? Did that too. Only since we've never had to make a withdrawal using either card before, we had no idea what our PIN might be. We called, only to be told they could mail us a new PIN--not helpful for our situation.

So we bucked up. Only ate at restaurants that took credit cards (more challenging than you might think). Found a grocery store that took Visa and bought snacks for the 3-hour train ride to Brussels, in case we couldn't afford snacks on the train. I was craving a waffle and ice-cream cone at the tulip gardens but guess what? Couldn't have them. Even peeing became a planned event, what with having to pay .50 cents every time.

It was a totally new experience for us who typically buy what we want and don't think much about it. Even going to museums became iffy, as we weren't sure if they would accept credit cards or not. (On the bright side, at the Van Gogh museum, they took credit cards but only for a minimum $25 purchase. Tickets didn't cover it, so we had to buy the audio tours to reach the minimum amount. We were griping about getting screwed, but turns out the audio tour absolutely made the museum come to life and was worth every penny.)

Dena at Grand Place, fretting about money...
Blair at Grand Place cafe where we had to pay cash for beer. (Click to enlarge image)We also lost bucks on the Grand Place square in Brussels. We snagged a great outdoors seat from which to view the plaza, after seeing the AmEx sign on the door. We ordered 2 rather expensive beers and relaxed, only to find when the bill came that "our machine is broken." Frankly, we think the waitress was lying and just didn't want to bother with credit. But that sucked another $12 from our already low cash fund.

When we got to Brussels, we splurged $3 on one of the powdered waffles everyone was eating and that was so worth it! Finally, we went to Bruges on Sunday and there was a Visa office where we could make a cash advance. Whew! I knew I was tense about not having money, but didn't realize how tense until the crisis had passed and we were fine again. It was just unnerving, wondering if we'd have enough for whatever emergency might come up before we got home.

Lesson learned. Always, ALWAYS, take plenty of cash and a debit card.

Amsterdam - My Sad Souvenir

While traveling, some people collect t-shirts, others trinkets, and still others spend hours searching out that most special item that with a glance will remind them of their journey to lands afar every time they look at it.

I collect certain items but I don't keep them on display. Instead, they're shoved into the far recesses of my bottom bathroom cabinet and rarely if ever looked at or admired again. Care to hazard a guess as to what I collect?

My straightening iron from Amsterdam. Click to enlarge image.If you guessed curling irons, hair dryers, and straightening rods, give yourself a prize. Yes, I've amassed quite a collection of hair appliances from around the world... a hair dryer from Italy when the one I took from home shorted out in the first two minutes of use; a curling iron from England; and now, a straightening iron from Amsterdam joins the mix.

I don't enjoy spending my money on these things. I just have to. This trip, for example, we packed adaptors but I forgot to pack my straightening iron. Day 2 with curly, frizzy, unkempt hair was not a pleasant experience for either Blair or myself. We've planned this vacation for months and the last thing I want to do is skip around town looking like a "before" pic from "how not to wear your hair." Petty? Yes. But I don't care. I was NOT a happy camper. We made it to the Rijks Museum before I cracked, then hauled ass around town, looking for a drugstore that sold hair products.

That presented more of a challenge then you might think. We passed a couple of hair salons and I stopped in to see if they sold the rods and even though they spoke English, they looked at me like I was from outer space. "Not helpful," I muttered to Blair as I exited the last one.  We finally darted into a small drugstore and just as we were about to give up and leave, Blair spotted a small shelf that had 3 hotrods on it. Thank you, Jesus.

We went back to the hotel so I could use my new toy and I spent the day--and the remainder of the trip--in a much better mood.

All I need now are some curlers from Spain and perhaps a crimping rod from Asia, and my collection will be complete. Envy me.

Amsterdam - The Anne Frank House

The focus of our trip was going to see the building where Anne Frank and her family hid for 2 1/2 years from the Nazi's. I've read The Diary of Anne Frank every year since I was about 9. Blair had read it too, but it had been so long that he reread it on our plane ride to Amsterdam.

Tourists lined up to see the Anne Frank HouseThe first thing that jumped out to me is how nondescript the building is. Were it not for the line of tourists circling the block for tickets, you'd never think to give it a second glance. (Click on photos for larger images)

Being there was like walking on holy ground for me. Just staring at the (drab) wallpaper and thinking, "She stood here," or going into the washroom and realizing, "This is where she brushed her teeth and combed her hair and stared into the mirror" was overwhelming.  A few highlights:

• The stairs behind the bookcase leading to The Secret Annexe are extremely narrow and unbelievably steep.
• I was most touched by a growth chart on the wall in Anne's parents bedroom where they marked in pencil the height of Anne and her sister Margot during their time spent in hiding. It's such a normal thing to do and stands out in  marked contrast to the very non-normal circumstances the family found themselves in.
• Anne's bedroom she shared with the dentist is much more narrow than I would have thought. Almost impossible to visualize 2 beds and a desk fitting in there...
• The main kitchen/living room (also the Van Daans bedroom) was MUCH SMALLER than I expected. I'd always pictured it as a room where those hiding could somewhat spread out, with the kitchen being almost a separate area. Uh-uh. Very tight and condensed with the sink almost in the middle of everything.
• There was a board game of Peter's on display in his room that Anne made mention he'd received for a birthday present. It looked almost new.
  Blair getting video of the Anne Frank House from across the canal

The rooms were all empty. After hauling the family away, the Nazi's emptied the Annex, giving all the furniture  to German families. Anne's father, Otto Frank, preferred the space be left empty, as the Nazi's left it. However, there is a wonderful downstairs display that shows the placement of all the furniture.
The Anne Frank House at Prinsengracht 267

There were videos of Miep, Otto Frank, and Lies (Anne's best friend who met up with Anne in the concentration camps). The original diary (!!!) is on display and overall I was highly impressed with the museum. Simple, stark, doesn't try to be too much because just what it represents is already so big. I'm thrilled to have been able to tour this part of history.

Dena Does Amsterdam

If that blog title doesn't get your attention, I don't know what will. Yes, the Harris' have returned from a quick trip to Amsterdam, Brussels, and Bruges.  I wrote entries for this blog and set them to post on different days while we were gone, so as not to announce to the world that we were leaving for vacation. Tricky, no...?

SO MUCH to tell. I will attempt to avoid the "and then we went here, and then there, and then back here" travel account and instead give my entries over the next few days that special "Dena spin." (aka, I will focus less on the magnificent and awe-inspiring sites we saw and home in on what really matters--me. ;)

If you hate travel logs of any sort, you might want to ditch this blog for the next week, as that's what the focus will be. But really, I'll try to keep them fun.

Okay, just a quick overview because I came home to 302 e-mails, about 10 of which needed my immediate attention last week, and I'm still operating on minimal sleep. I feel a nap in the very near future.

But now, welcome to the world of

DENA & BLAIR'S BIG AMSTERDAM ADVENTURE

Planes: I don't know why I travel. I don't enjoy the process. Sardines squeezed in a tin can describes the flight over. There was 1/8" of leg room before the person in front of me decided to cruise the entire 8 hours with their seat in the full reclined position. I ate a bag of peanut trail mix and my feet swelled to the size of square bricks--it was actually creepy to see. Blair plugged in his headphones and didn't talk the whole flight. Coming back was better. A little more leg room and we played Othello, watched 2 movies, and were served ice-cream as a treat. It really doesn't take much to make me happy...

Food: Belgium waffles RULE! So freakin' good. Also had a warm goat cheese salad in Bruges to die for. Most important thing I noticed about food is portion control. I felt good after every meal with the exception of the one night we ate at Hard Rock Cafe- Amsterdam. Then I left the table sick from overeating. Otherwise, the portions and drink sizes are just right. Wish this country would follow that example...

Pets: I returned to find a discussion on my Dog Writers list-serv about starting a movement in this country to allow animals into restaurants. Sign me up! I loved Brussels and Amsterdam, where dogs and cats were in almost every shop and restaurant. The animals are extremely well-behaved and sit patiently beside owners or just lie on the floor under tables. We ate at a little Bistro and a black and white kitty rubbed against our legs and then jumped on a neighboring table to sniff at what was in their glasses before wandering the bar top. Eventually the owners tossed some tuna on the floor of the tavern. A U.S. Health Inspector might have a heart attack, but I find having animals around makes for a most congenial meal.

Preview of what's to come:

• Anne Frank House tour
• Missing our train stop in Amsterdam
• Touring the Red Light District with my southern gentleman of a husband
• Paying to Pee
• The story of the vomiting wafer
• Running out of money (SO not fun...)
• AND MORE!!!