The flight back from Nairobi to Montreal had a 10 hour stop over in Amsterdam. Some people choose to take a room in the airport hotel to catch up on lost sleep but I was hoping to take a guided tour of the city, not having set foot there in over 30 years. But, because of an unfortunate mix-up at the tourism office, I ended up spending hours waiting in the airport for nothing.
What does one do at Schiphol international airport? Let me count the ways. I, of course, browsed the shops which seem to stay open 24 hours a day…this is comparable to a any north american shopping mall with tulips and clogs added. I visited the Rijksmuseum, yes a museum in an airport and it is free! It houses 10 works by dutch masters. I visited one of several Xpres spas and chose a foot massage as I felt the life had gone out of them more than any other part of me. I could have visited the casino, but not being much of a gambler, I passed. I could have had a shower but chose instead to take a refreshing nap in one of their wonderful lounge chairs. They are so comfortable and set in a quiet area with a nice vew to the outside, that you need to set an alarm for fear of sleeping right through your departure time. I had purchased a tin of Stroopwafels (amazingly addictive cookies made up of two thin buttery waffle-cookie layers filled with sticky, sweet stroop (syrup)) to give as a gift but… guess who ate them all? Meanwhile you hear over the speakers a somewhat irritated announcements saying “Will mister so and so please board the plane immidiately, you are delaying the flight and we shall start unloading your luggage if you don’t show up !” I shudder everytime…how embarassing to be scolded publicly like that…
And then… I decided to face my fears and venture out on my own. I took the train into the city. (It is a 20 minute ride, if you do not get off at the wrong station along the way as I did). Because I had been sleepless for 24 hours and was seriously jet lagged I opted for a boat tour along the canals… which was very soothing and pretty…
We sailed by Ann Franck’s house, there was a huge line up to get in. It made me want to re read her diary now that I had a mental picture of the location. I also noticed a purse and bag museum. I would have loved to visit both. But there was no time.
I will have to return for a longer visit.