Thursday, May 30, 2013

Gent, Postage-Stamp Sized//Postcard Beautiful.

Gent was the perfect town for a pause between the hustle&bustle of Amsterdam and Paris. It's a barely-there medieval village, strategically built so that its canals worked as moats for the castle.

There is a huge student population in Gent; and they have a fantastic modern art&design museum ('Fantastic' is totally word-of-mouth. I didn't hear about it until the day we were leaving and that's a definite bummer). Anyway because of all this young hipness, the buildings are old, but the residents have learned to make that a simple backdrop for the modern interior design they clearly appreciate.

We fit in perfectly as 20-somethings meandering around in the afternoon sunshine, soaking up what was apparently the only two days of Spring in months of almost-constant rain. In the evenings, twilight lasted until midnight, and so we joined the groups of people dangling their feet over the water and sipping wine out of plastic cups. 

The only touristy thing we did (besides take 100000 photos of windows&doors) was to climb the old watchtower, running up 256 steps to test our Colorado lungs at sea level. We had the place mostly to ourselves, and we stood on the observation deck and commented how the red brick roofs reminded us both of Boulder. We noticed the stairs climbed higher, so we followed them up to a locked gate. Never much into 'rules,' we simply climbed over&through the gate. We made it to the top of the stairs and onto the roof, just in time to watch the 4 o'clock bells chiming in front of us--the only other audience member was a gold weathervane dragon. Definitely weren't supposed to be up there but, hey, no one was there to tell us no. :)

Our hotel was fabulous and adorable, run by the cutest girl ever in the world who asked me where she could buy my Vera Bradley duffle bag (so of course I loved her instantly). We wasted a lot of hours making conversation with strangers&eating&drinking too much at the Irish pub downstairs, where the entire staff was transplanted from the Emerald Isles. There were 40 types of Irish whiskeys on the menu, and we sampled more than a few on bartender recommendations.

I can't say we did too much more than that in Gent. But we were happy there. We walked circles around the city. We explored. We slept in. We went shopping. I ate chocolate (I'm getting visibly plumper every day!) I'd like to go back some day. Until then, here's some of those 100000 photos I mentioned.

















Sunday, May 26, 2013

Amsterdam, Bits&Pieces. 3

Caaaaaaaaats! I'm officially an international cat lady! I get a badge and everything! 
 Plaster molds of real-life men of the Nias Islands in 1910. Only one man is vaguely smiling, and as an installation, they all seem to take on the anonymity of the Chinese terra-cotta army.
 Baby-sized bikes!
 Public playground. Yes, that is a giant rope climbing gym AND a metal trampoline built into the ground. Guess who thinks kids are only made better for getting hurt? Me AND the Dutch!
 People more concerned with taking pictures of Rembrandt's "The Nightwatch," than actually looking at the thing. ;) 
More house than houseboat.

Amsterdam, Bits&Pieces. 2

Here's some typography porn for you all. Oh, just me? Well then I'll simply try not to drool on you while I practice changing my handwriting. :)


You're not imagining. That's a whole store for billiards. 

Taking the anti-tourist photo in front of the most-photographed typography in Amsterdam. 



We asked some locals. They don't even know what this sign means. 

Amsterdam, Bits&Pieces. 1

Here's me and the scooter I bought, parked in front of my new apartment! Just kidding, but don't I look like I fit in? Thanks, Mom&Dad for the Scandinavian heritage! Thanks, hipster style for totally translating to Europe!
Here's the house I would buy in Amsterdam, if I were into that sort of thing. :)

Here's a watercolor print by Jan Sluijters I did buy, because I'm going to be a grown-up and start collecting art. It is half of my B.A. after all.

Wall of ties and killer polka-dot wall at suitsupply, a fabulous Dutch mensware shop that had Ian drooling. They're opening one in Denver! Score!
 Speaking of Denver... Someone's hometown reppin'.
&Other weird stuff on walls

Amsterdam, Full Stomachs, Empty Wallets.

Alright, enough about Amsterdam architecture.You're tired of hearing me talk about it probably. So let's talk about those other things for which you come to Europe. Namely: food&shopping.
Eating in Europe is an adventure, and other than fries&pea soup, I haven't figured out what "Dutch" food is. We've ended up eating Mediterranean most days, which is just fine with us. 


On the first night, jet-lagged and stumbling, we ate here. The man running the restaurant was wonderfully sweet with pale skin and ink-black hair, and he told us to come find him for the best parties when the restaurant closed at 1 am. We assured him we could barely stay awake as we let the leisurely pace of European dinners wash over us. We split Kalamata olives and tzatziki sauce for a starter, and Ian declared the pita bread the best he'd had.  We worked our way through a few more courses and, near the end of the meal, the old couple who had been sitting next to us stood and helped to clear the tables in the restaurant. The waiter explained they were his neighbors and had been eating at his restaurant for 17 years. When Ian and I were finished eating, the waiter poured all five of us glasses of cold white wine. I closed my eyes to the greying dusk of the north and tasted ocean and fresh and springtime.
Fast food before the Rijksmuseum. Bet you can guess which is mine and which is Ian's! I'm trying to make up for all the chocolate I'm eating. And yeah, I'm saving the chocolate post for the end. :)


This was our lunch spot on the second day that we spent shopping (ahem, hence Empty Wallets). It was kosher Algerian and the curried chicken&roastedfennel&chickpeas&freshminttea warmed us up from the rain. It was only one girl taking orders and serving and cleaning up. She had dark curly hair, perfect linen capris, and more than a few languages had combined to give her a wonderful accent that made every word sound like a song. She seemed happy and not concerned whether we paid before or after we ate.  Ian and I were happy to sit on that little blue bench and watch the characters who were floating by on the canal in front of us. Mostly it was groups of Brits who were cheering their national pride in the city-appropriate Queen lyrics, "I want to ride my bicycle bicycle bicycle."

I love Europe's food culture because the best restaurants are the ones tucked away into corners that could be doorways to private homes. Only the shelves of wine bottles seen through a window give away that more than one family dines there, and I always feel like I've had a secret whispered to me when I find them. And even without knowing the language, watching people interact over meals reminds me that, truthfully, we are all in this world for the same things: being happy and spending time with people we love, doing things we enjoy. 

Ah, I know, how philosophical of me. I'll stop there. 
But you know what I enjoy? Gelato... And I'm hoping you guys are beginning to pick up on the fact that "gelato" stands for an idea a lot bigger than just ice cream. :)

Saturday, May 25, 2013

Amsterdam, Canal Wanderin'

First of all, let me apologize for the bizarre formatting issues I'm having with these posts. Things are hard to navigate on my iPhone from abroad. But, I promise when I return home to a real computer, I'll switch them all into wonderful uniformity.

Let's talk about uniformity for a minute, or rather design in general. Because my favorite thing about this canal city is the dedication to good design on all levels, from the architecture and layout down the the door handles and texts.

Amsterdam is built on canals, much like a famed Italian city. But whereas Venice is built into rambling canals that sink (literally, at an average rate of 1m/years) into a romantic devotion to the past, letting tourists outnumber locals 9-to-1, Amsterdam is a city that knows its history, but never lets the 17th century hold it back. Amsterdam's canals provide structure to the city; a logical suggestion of movement that wagon-wheels from the outer edges, where Ian and I have a hotel, to the inner circle with the train station at the center. Yes, you can take canal tours; yes, you can rent paddleboats, but mostly they're cold and slow. Amsterdam is a city that moves. Quickly.

Biking here is an extreme sport, and we've loved watching how people tailor their bikes to fit their needs.
Like this one, complete with a windshield to protect the baby-seat welded to the handlebars.
This is the bike parking at the train station near our hotel. People don't lock their bikes to anything, they simply lock the wheel to the frame, because anyone carrying a bike whose wheels are chained is a giveaway that it's been stolen.
Ian, sitting on a bike seat affixed to a pole. 

Besides the bikes, I would chose to live in this city for the architecture. The buildings themselves are all the same: tall and skinny. But between the door-frames and trimming and window-shutters, they each take on a distinct personality. I'll leave you with these pictures, because I'm posting this from breakfast, and it's a new day for more exploring, (and I've got to go wake sleepyhead brother up).