In Brief: Acadia National Park, Maine

So, revelation number one: I'm alive! Haven't been here in a while, I know. Revelation number two: I got to somewhere!

This was a long time coming, folks. Tony and I haven't had any time off together since we hit up Europe back in August of 2012. So when Tony called one day during a break at work and told me he'd figured out we could take nearly a week off to go somewhere, it was cause for celebration. At that point I didn't even care where we were going, just that we needed to GO.

Home sweet home, from Tues night to Sun morning.

Things got even better when we decided to go somewhere new for me, but somewhere familiar and beloved for Tony: Acadia National Park, on Mount Desert Island, Maine. And so it was that on a Tuesday afternoon, after Tony's students had been dismissed, we found ourselves Maine-bound. Since we didn't cross the Maine border until around 10 PM, I didn't get a good look at the place; we drove over the water to Mount Desert Island without even knowing it, and when we found our way to the campground and our site, we pitched our tent assisted by our car headlights around 1:30 AM; when those were switched off, we were engulfed in the deepest blackness I've ever seen until we woke up in our tent at Blackwoods Campground the following morning. We were awakened by the grating sounds of what was either a crow or the three-eyed raven, come to lead us north of the wall. Either way, we woke up in Maine.

Fog obscuring the treetops at Sand Beach

It had drizzled during the night, so we emerged Wednesday morning into a soft, pine-scented, damp world. The thick layer of fallen needles absorbed the sounds of our few neighbors, and with no fire to warm us, the morning was especially cold. We decided to drive into Bar Harbor for coffee and breakfast, and so my first impressions of Maine were of the mountains cloaked in fog, the roadways streaked black with damp. A flash of white, and suddenly an eagle was in sight, landing on the rocks above a small pond; I knew then that we were somewhere wild. In Bar Harbor we found a coffee shop clearly catering to locals but welcoming campers. After bagels and coffee we drove back toward camp until we found the entrance to Park Loop Road, which, as you might guess, circles the main part of Acadia. The fog hid most of the views; and then it began to rain. Undeterred, we decided to don our rain gear and climb our first mountain, Gorham. Lo, by the time we reached its peak, the fog was beginning to roll away, and the first rays of sun we'd seen all day kissed our grateful, dampened cheeks. We decided to eat the snacks we'd packed and see if the weather improved. We shed a layer of clothing, chewed, and waited.

And then...the first sight of blue water.

The view from Gorham Mountain, after fog had rolled away.

The view showed me not just how far we'd climbed, but also why Tony had been so anxious to bring me here. He's what he calls a "ridgerunner," raised in the foothills and rocky ledges of the Pocono mountains. I grew up in the Chesapeake Bay watershed, never far from a bay or river, and splashing in fresh and salt water for much of the year. Acadia has the mountains and the rocks, and the blue, blue ocean. It was the best of both worlds, an essence of each one of us, combined into one.

A fitting metaphor, considering that we're getting married, don't you think? Oh yeah, that's one of the many things to happen since I last blogged ;-)


In my coming posts I'll go into more detail about the trails we climbed, the places we ate, our campground accommodations, and our too-short stay in the Camden/Rockport area. But for now, I'll sum up our trip with just a few words and phrases: Dark skies. Quiet. Mountains. The ocean. The sun on your freshly freckled face.

What could be better?

The Barnes Foundation

There is a brand new building just off of the Ben Franklin Parkway that houses an incredible collection, one which is likely to grow into an attraction just as large as that other city landmark, the Philadelphia Museum of Art. Philadelphia is on the rise as a world art attraction, and the Barnes is part of the reason why.

Exterior rendering of the Barnes' new parkway location.

The New Barnes:

Previously housed in a manse-like setting off of City Avenue (still used as archiving/restoration facilities, and grounds/sculpture garden still open to visitors), the bulk of the collection now has a home on museum row, across the highway from the Franklin Institute and within sight of the hulking Museum of Art. You could almost miss the place walking past it on the parkway side, hidden as it is behind trees and with minimal signage. Approaching from the parkway, a gravel walk leads you past soothing water features and toward the ticket office, which is housed in a separate building on the grounds. From there a path surrounded by shallow reflecting pools leads visitors to the imposing, unmarked doors.

Past an initial security check you come to a crossroads; to your immediate left are stairs leading down to coat check, flawless bathrooms, gift shop, cafe, and library. If you stray just past the stairs, a guard will usher you around a corner into a massive room, nearly empty but for some soft benches scattered about like fallen dominos. Find your way past them, have your ticket scanned (perhaps pausing to pick up an audio tour guide first), and you're in.

The honey-colored gallery will beckon you forward, but don't forget to take notice of the stairs to your right and elevator to your left; when you're done downstairs, there is a whole second floor to explore.

The collection you will see once belonged to Albert C. Barnes, a Philadelphia-raised chemist who grew his fortune by developing and selling a drug to battle gonorrhoea in the days before antibiotics. Luckily he used his powers for good and began amassing impressionist and modernist pieces at an astonishing rate. The collection really is world-class: how many places have nearly 200 works by Renoir (181, to be exact), alongside the likes of Cezanne, Degas, Picasso, Van Gogh, Matisse, Modigliani, Gauguin, Monet, Manet....(I could go on). Luckily, though, there are other works sprinkled in: some pre-Renaissance pieces from Europe, ancient Chinese and Japanese paintings, and more. We were particularly impressed with some Egyptian and Roman artifacts that we found upstairs, some of them impossibly old.

Our experience:

Our afternoon at the Barnes Foundation was like stepping back in time a whole year; last August, Tony and I were exploring the art museums of Amsterdam, taking in Dutch masters and Van Gogh. The Barnes, however, was mercifully much less crowded than the Van Gogh or Rijksmuseum, and we were actually able to be seated for a while and absorb everything around us. The galleries are bright and airy and painted a reflective yellowish hue, and there was a sense of serenity and calm in each room. The staff was friendly and helpful; one passing security guard even complimented Tony's shoes! We did have to navigate around some guided tours, but eavesdropping in on them to get some more details was fun and worth the trouble. Plus, you can explore the galleries in whatever order you like; if a tour crowds one room, and you prefer silent observation, you can always circle back.

We did not sample the cafe or library, but we inspected the gift shop; I couldn't find a magnet to my liking (I collect them) but there are lots of books, prints, jewelry, and other items, priced about the same as the PMOA.

Getting there:

We walked from the 18th & JFK Suburban Station exit. If taking regional rail, opt to get off at Suburban as opposed to 30th Street. If you're not up for the walk, a cab ride from nearby won't cost you much. If you do walk, you'll get to enjoy the fountains at Logan Square (skip Love Park; it's overrated in my opinion, always crowded, and dirty).

If driving, you'll have to look around for a garage; I don't believe the Barnes has one of its own.

Other things to know:

• Timed tickets are highly encouraged and can be purchased online ahead of your visit. You can also call ahead to reserve tickets or a spot in a guided tour at 215-278-7200.
• The museum is closed on Tuesdays, but is open late Friday nights to make up for those lost hours. Regular hours the rest of the week are 10 a.m. to 6 p.m.



A peek into one of the Barnes' main first-floor galleries

• Student admission is just $10! If you are out of school but still have your student ID around somewhere, tuck it into your wallet for this trip. Unless, of course, you buy online, in which case you won't be required to show it. They'll scan your ticket and send you on your way.
• There is a size limit on the bags that you can carry into the gallery. I was annoyed when told I would have to check mine, but the bag check was free of charge, and you can take with you a clear plastic bag to hold your wallet, phone, and anything else with which you are unwilling to part.

Overall, I'd classify the Barnes as a dont-miss; even in its original building the collection appears in the book 1000 Places to See Before You Die; in its new digs,  it's now even more of a destination.

The Barnes Foundation

www.barnesfoundation.org

2025 Benjamin Franklin Parkway

Philadelphia, PA 19130

215-278-7000

OR

300 North Latch's Lane

Merion, PA 19066

215-278-7350

Climbing Old Rag: Shenandoah National Park

Six hours. Eleven and a half miles. One day in March.

Tony at the Old Rag summit, March 15 2013.

Old Rag is my boyfriend Tony's "favorite hike in the world;" and this is a guy who has climbed glaciers in Iceland. When we both found ourselves with an opportunity to take the day off this month, Tony decided that we needed some fresh air, and that he wanted to share this hike with me. While I'm not a novice outdoors lady, I'm also nowhere near expert; the more I read up on this hike beforehand, the more nervous I became. But with Tony's confidence in me, and my own in myself, on the line, I became determined that I would reach the tippy top, and be darn proud of myself once there.

We left home at about 6:45 and made the long drive into Virginia toward Shenandoah National Park. Once off the highway, we drove toward the mountains with Fleet Foxes in our ears. Past Sperryville we got a little turned around, but eventually found our way down the rural roads and into the mountain's shadow. I was treated to some views of Old Rag's bald top as we approached, which didn't ease my apprehension about the hike ahead. 

While Hiking Upward only gives the trail a 4 out of 10 for difficulty, this is on the upper end of difficulty for a one-day hike. The trail circuit runs about 11 miles, and the climb upward is more than 2,000 feet. A calorie calculator I found online estimated that the climb would burn over 2,000 calories! The last mile of the the hike, should you choose the blue trail as we did, consists of a rock scramble that requires some hand-over-hand climbing. And if you're short, like me (I'm maybe 5'4" in my boots), you'll probably need a boost to get through the toughest parts of the trail. Even in spring the trail can be icy or snowy, making the rock scramble slippery and a little dangerous. If this was a 4, I can only imagine a 10!

Snow on the mountain in Mid-March

There are two trails you can take to reach the summit of Old Rag: the blue trail, which includes several miles of switchbacks and then the rock scramble, and the yellow trial, which is comprised of switchbacks all the way up or down, and then a much longer walk from/back to the lower parking lot. We chose to go up the blue trail, and reward ourselves with an easier hike back down on the yellow trial.

As it turned out, the hike was a challenge for me, as I expected. The switchbacks are deceptively simple, but they take a lot of effort as you climb upward. As for the rock scramble, I definitely could not have done it on my own. While my Gollum-like crawling and shimmying served me well, there were spots where I was just too short to even find a good hand or foothold. It was at those spots where some serious team work was required between Tony and myself.

View from the Old Rag summit, 2k feet up.

Things to bring:

• As much water as you can comfortably carry
• Protein-packed snacks
• Climbing gloves
• Extra socks, in case your feet get wet
• A hat, to warm your ears at the windy summit
• Tissues or a handkerchief
• Your inhaler, if you're even slightly asthmatic

Other tips:

• Set your GPS to Sperryville, Virginia. Then, follow the route past the pizza place, out of the town, with the mountain on your right, until you reach Nethers Road; make a right onto Nethers and follow it all the way down to reach the Old Rag lower parking lot. You'll have to pay $15 per carload to access the park.
• Invest in waterproof hiking shoes. There was still snow and ice on the mountain in mid-March, and our feet could have gotten soaked in sneakers. Also, regular athletic shoes won't quite provide the grip needed for the more difficult parks of the rock scramble. I bought these L.L. Bean boots and they held up perfectly. As I didn't have time to break them in before the hike, I invested in a Friction Stick from Band-Aid, and that rubbed onto my feet really helped protect against chafing.
  
• Pack on some sunblock before the climb, even if you won't need it. Tony and I were only on the summit for about an hour, and we both came home with sunburned faces and necks!
• Bring extra water and snacks to leave in the car, that way you can refuel and rehydrate when you get back to the lot.
• There are some port-a-potties in the lower parking lot, but other than that, you're on your own for the entirety of the trail. No bathrooms. Ladies, plan ahead. Carefully.
• Dress in layers; we peeled most of ours off on the way up, but piled them back on once we reached the top!
• I would not suggest hiking this trail alone, especially if it's your first time. Bring a friend to help you through the more difficult spots. 
• Give yourself a day after to recover. Really. We needed it.

Going off of that last bullet point, be warned: if you're not in utterly fantastic shape, you'll feel this hike at least a little the day after. Tony and I are fairly active people, and our muscles began burning on the drive home and didn't stop the next day. Saturday I also discovered a number of minor injuries: bruises on my knees and elbows, a big bruise on my right thigh, scraped palms from the climb, a strained shoulder muscle (from Tony pulling me up by my arms) and even bruises around my ankles, where my new shoes had ground into them all day. So plan ahead, and give yourself the day after to recover. Really.

But the bumps and bruises and moment of mild panic were well worth it. Even the view from the first rocky spot was incredible; we could see past the farms spreading out below the mountain all the way to the highway that had led us here. I thought we were nearly there, but my upward glance had deceived me; the rock scramble was only just beginning. By the time we had struggled and shimmied to the top a mile later, with the wind whipping and whistling around our cold ears, and my smiling boyfriend's arm around me, I knew that I had something to be proud of.

For more detailed information, Hiking Upward has a great page for Old Rag information, including weather forecasts and a printable trail map.  You can also find more information on the National Parks website. Happy hiking!

In Amsterdam: The Heineken Experience

Heineken's original brewing facilities, still as shiny as new!

Was it corny? Undoubtedly. Was it fun? Yes, it certainly was! As much as we enjoyed the Riijksmuseum, it had been a stoic, serious affair. It was fun to loosen up with the help of a few good pints at the Heineken Experience, just a short walk from the Museum District.

Disclaimer: I don't pretend to know a whole lot about the brewing process, and also, this trip took place six months ago. So if some of the details aren't quite up to par, I apologize! 

The first time I visited Holland, back in 2008, I was not really a beer drinker. I was not yet 21, so coming to England as a student abroad was my first real experimentation with alcohol, and I still didn't know what I liked. So when I found myself at the pub in Rotterdam with a Heineken in my hand, I had apprehensions. However, I was pleasantly surprised by the taste of the stuff, and over that long weekend, that was the only beverage I had. I've had them occasionally back in the US, but honestly, Heineken is never better than it is in Holland, especially from draft, all golden and bubbly. On this trip, Tony and I fast lost track of all the Heinekens we drank! 

The factory that houses the Heineken Experience no longer does any brewing; however, it is the original facility that was purchased by Gerard Adriaan Heineken after he obtained the Haystack Brewing Company in 1873. Heineken perfected his own personal yeast mixture in 1886, and that yeast has been used to brew Heineken until this very day! The building also houses the official Heineken draft horses, which are used to pull the beer wagon for parades or other occasions, much like the Budweiser Clydesdales.

A display of water, barley, hops, and yeast.

Upon entry, you pay for admission (18 Euro for adults; 16 Euro if purchased online) and receive a green rubber wristband, which contains two plugs that you can redeem for pints at the end of the tour; that's right, two! The wristband will also get you one of two things: 1. Free transportation up the canal to the official gift shop, or 2. ten percent off your purchase at said gift shop. Talk about a good deal! They will also take your baggage and coats for free, which was much appreciated.

The tour is self guided, and begins with a museum-like display of early advertising and facts about the company's history. The first interactive part of the tour involves a stop in front of great columns of brewing ingredients, where an employee talks you through the basics of the brewing process. After that, the tour moves into the airy and bright brewing area, which houses the copper vats that blend, toast, and ferment. The whole room smelled deliciously of barley and yeast; almost like bread baking.

After that, a staircase takes you up to the next level and offers views of the Heineken stables, their horses in repose. Upstairs is a short display demonstrating bottling, and where, for a small fee, you can create your own label and have it slapped on a bottle to take home with you.

After that, a ride of sorts: moving platforms in front of a large screen take the visitor on a tour of the brewing process from the point of view of the hops; we are toasted (via an overhead heater), slide down to the fermenter, doused with water, etc. It's fun, but visitors who would rather skip it have the option to. After that is the official tasting room, where staff takes us through the perfect pour. According to him, a good pour of Heineken should have a large head. He says the British in particular, used to a small head on their ale, will give him crap for this: "You cheap Dutchman, give me more beer!" Once everyone was given a half-pint, we all admired its amber color and bubbles, toasted, and, at last imbibed. Underage visitors were given water so as to be able to participate as well.

Tony and I cheesing in blacklights at the Heineken Experience.

After that the last few rooms, admittedly, felt like overkill; we navigated a maze of rooms all adorned in the styles of different ad campaigns, the music blaring from speakers, commercials flashing across flat-screen televisions, tourists reclining and giggling on couches made to look the ones the happily-Heineken-sipping extras had utilized in the commercials. We enjoyed the blacklight room, obviously, as you can see to the right. Then we used one of the touch screen computers to send an e-card to our parents, complete with an unflattering screen-shot of us flashing wide smiles. After that we rushed through the last few rooms to get to what we had come for: the pub, and our free pints!

A dark, club-like area houses two bars: one full-service, and the other where visitors have the opportunity to pour their own pint. Two pints are on the house, but after that you'll have to pay up! If you do visit, beware; the floors were sticky and most of the stools and benches full. Tony and I managed to find a quiet corner in which to enjoy our pints. I only had one, since I had been sick the last few days (because I am ALWAYS sick on vacation), but Tony took full advantage of both of his!

There is a sizeable gift shop on the premises, full of postcards, jerseys and other apparel, hats, jewelry, magnets, glasses, soccer balls, and more. I can only imagine the size of the "official" gift shop! Like most official merchandise, everything was rather pricey, so I chose not to buy anything, although I was sorely tempted by a ladies' sweatshirt/jacket that felt incredibly soft and warm. Temptation was resisted, however, and after picking up our things at coat check, we embarked back out into the warm Amsterdam streets in search of our hotel, a bite, and a bit of well-deserved rest.

Tony with an antique Heineken wagon!

The Heineken Experience is open every day of the year save three: Christmas Day, New Year's Day, and April 30, a national holiday.

Underage visitors are welcome, though they will not be allowed to sample! Children under age eight are admitted for free, and though the facility is wheelchair-accessible, strollers and prams must be checked at the front.

All photos and text by me. Please credit.

In Amsterdam: The Rijksmuseum

Warhol's portrait of Queen Beatrix of Holland.

Located (where else?) in Amsterdam's Museum District, The Rijksmuseum these days is the greatest hits album to the museum's massive collection. The real Rijksmuseum, a massive, ornamented brick palace surrounded by gardens, was when we were there closed off by scaffolding and chain link fence, inaccessible due to the massive renovations currently in full swing. When we visited, a mere wing of the museum was open, though it housed more masterpieces than many museums can boast of their entire collections. And until April of this year you will have to enter as we did, through a glass entryway on the side of the building, on the same street that leads to the Van Gogh museum just a few blocks away.

Contained in this small (comparatively speaking) wing, along with some historical artifacts from old Holland and its many colonies, a suitably large display of Delftware, and a Warhol portrait of Queen Beatrix, is a mind-boggling display of works from the Dutch masters, including Vermeer, De Hooch, and Rembrandt. A small collection, perhaps, but a mighty one.

Tony and I gratefully handed over our backpacks when we got there, free to browse the museum unburdened and out of the gaze hot summer sun. We began our tour on the lower level of the wing, where we took in artifacts of Holland's colonial past; relics from sea voyages to foreign lands, and furniture from the homes Dutch settlers built for themselves when they got there. This included some historical information of course, but we made our way through these early galleries rather quickly, eager to see what we had come for.

The Delftware Gallery which followed was a pleasant surprise; when one thinks of Delftware, one things of plates and platters, teacups and saucers. Well, I was pleasantly surprised to find that the Dutch could make just about anything out of this distinctive china: whole dining services of course, but also intricate, animal-shaped vases, furniture adorned with ivory and Mother of Pearl, and even a Delftware violin! I'm not sure the sound quality would be quite that of a wooden violin; even so, I'm sure the tone would be quite different.

Once we had exhausted the lower galleries, we took a bathroom break and then ascended to the upper level via a bright, sunny stairway; when we got the top, we were rewarded by the sight of Queen Beatrix's regal stare, via Andy Warhol.

And then, we found ourselves face to face with the Old Masters. You may tire of still lifes fairly quickly, but here at least are some still lifes backed up by familiar, legendary names: De Hooch, Rembrandt. We see scenes of hunting spoils, kitchen supplies, and other necessities. There are also portraits galore, of prosperous people who would have been long forgotten but for these likenesses in oil. We see Rembrandt age through his self portraits, and see the faces he was surrounded by. And Rembrandt's massive masterpiece, "The Night Watch," enjoys a room almost entirely to itself.

It may not be apparent to everyone who knows me how much I enjoy Vermeer's work, but as mentioned in the Delft post, I discovered the artist in my mid-teens, when Tracy Chevalier's "Girl with a Pearl Earring" immersed me in the painter's world. When I came face to face with the girl in The Hague back in 2008, I stood breathlessly before her, feeling almost too meek to look her in the eye. So when, in the Riijksmuseum, I found myself presented with FOUR of Vermeer's works, I had to take some deep breaths. On display here are: "The Milkmaid," "The Little Street," "Woman Reading a Letter," and "The Love Letter." And once the hordes of people moved on to the next room, I got to have a little time alone with each of them, more so than I had had with my beloved girl. 

Vermeer's "The Milkmaid," at the Riijksmuseum

Other authors can tell you more about Vermeer's techniques, the themes and metaphors in his work, etc. All I will tell you is that these are pristine scenes of ordinary life, each one a snapshot of an ordinary day in the lives of ordinary people, brought to life with layers of deep, vibrant colors and a superb capture of natural light. And for that, I not only respect the work for its technical aspects, but for the peace I feel in gazing at it, and a longing for a simpler time.

After the darkness of "The Night Watchman's" gallery, visitors make their way into, what else, the gift shop. You can buy almost anything featuring the works in this collection: journals, prints, erasers, stuffed toys, even umbrellas. And just in case you resist temptation but can't shake the thought of that Vermeer pencil case long after you've left, you can always go online and order from there.

By the way, the museum's website is incredible; it not only provides information about visiting the museum, and what you can find there, but you can also search the collection by keyword, artist, etc. Once you've found the work you want, you are presented with options: zoom in and take in the work's details, share your find on Twitter, Facebook or Pinterest, download it for wallpaper, print it for a craft project, or even order professional prints of it right from the same screen. If you're not looking for anything specific, browse the collection at random. My Rijskstudio allows you to do all of this, and also allows you to make your own boards there, in the style of Pinterest and organized any way you'd like, using objects from the collections. Whether you are artistically inclined or are just an appreciator with little artistic talent, as I am, I guarantee you can spend hours getting lost on the website.

And speaking of hours getting lost, the full museum is set to reopen on Saturday, April 13; naturally, less than a year after we visited. The renovations have taken 10 years and have included massive restorations of the existing building and galleries. The renovation will also allow for full access to the museum's 20th century collection, as well as its celebrated fashion gallery, and include a new Asian pavilion and renovated gardens. What I wouldn't give for it to have been finished last summer!

But you, my friends, if you were considering a visit to Amsterdam, here have all the knowledge you need to make a wise decision: buy your tickets, but make sure you'll be going after April 13! Really, go. It's well worth it.

All photos taken by me, all text written by me. Please credit.

Suggested Travel Resolution: Iceland!

Happy New Year, everyone! Via The Huffington Post, here is a great article on why a visit Iceland should be one of your new year's resolutions, by Elizabeth Thorp. Just click here.

I can check off two things at least: Blue Lagoon (in whose thermal waters I would dearly love to soak at the moment) and hip, downtown Reykjavik. But the natural beauty? The wild horses? The Northern Lights?

I need to go back! And as long as I'm with Tony, it's highly likely that I will.

Overview: Two Days in Amsterdam

Our first view of Amsterdam off the train, on a sparkling summer morning.

As with Delft and The Hague, August 2012 became  my second trip to Amsterdam. Tony and I departed from Rotterdam early on another beautiful summer morning, drowsily riding the high-speed train for just under two hours. When the flat, green farmland outside of our window began giving way to suburbs and apartment buildings, I knew we were getting close. And when we emerged from the darkness of Centraal Station, Amsterdam spread out ahead of us in all directions, all sparkling water, flat boats and spires.

We only had two days in Amsterdam at our disposal, and planned to make the most of them. Our agenda included the city's biggest draws, of course: The Riijksmuseum, the Red Light District, the Heineken Experience, the Anne Frank House Museum, perhaps a cafe visit. Sounds doable, right? Unfortunately, we came quickly to realize that had really underestimated the size of the city and our ability to get around it unaided. We hadn't looked into getting metro or tram passes, thinking we could easily walk to wherever we needed to be. While Amsterdam is certainly a walkable city, and walking is a wonderful way to experience its charms, our determination only to walk it almost became our undoing.

We really should have taken some time to orient ourselves with the city before we went, but we had brought along a map lent to us by Co, and figured we could make our way once there. We knew that everything we wanted to see was down below the sprawling Centraal Station on the outskirts of the city, so we decided to walk straight ahead of the station and work our way into the heart of the city. We were starving, though, having nothing but a small breakfast at the train platform in Rotterdam, so we ducked into an open cafe for breakfast. There, over wonderfully crisp and melty paninis and small cups of black European coffee, we unfurled the map and saw just what we were in for. The museum district was at the very bottom of the city, quite a long distance from our current location.

We spent a frustratingly long time wandering back and forth in the hot sun as we tried to find the Riijksmuseum, but we did get to see a lot of true Amsterdam long the way: the bicycles artfully leaned against buildings, the old houseboats creaking gently at their tethers, the locals coming and going out of townhouses with their shopping, children balanced precariously in seats (with no restraints or helmets) on the front of their parents' bicycles.

Finally, finally, we started seeing signs for the Riijksmuseum, and began following the brass arrows. And at long last we found ourselves in the cool shadow of the palatial museum, and made our way to the museum's annex to gain entry (but more on that later). 

Finding our way to the Heineken Experience after the Riijksmuseum was luckily not nearly as much of a challenge; we made our way there quickly and easily and spent over an hour enjoying the center's various charms. After that, however, we were back to square one. After asking a Heineken employee for directions and scouring multiple maps, we still had no idea where to find our hotel. One of the more memorable moments of the trip when I, infuriated by our inability to find our hotel, juggling city maps and guidebooks in my hands in front of a city map on a street corner, declared:

"We are the only people in the world who could stand in front of a map, with three other $%#&ing maps, and still have no idea where the hell we are!" At the time it was just true, but luckily, it later became funny.

After another near hour of aimless wandering and frustration, through many of the same streets we had traipsed hours before, we were nearly at the end of our patience and our endurance. I took out the borrowed cell phone and called two cab companies whose numbers I found in our Amsterdam guidebook; I couldn't get through to either one. Now feeling truly hopeless, we made our way back to the Symphony Hall area, where we thought we could find a cab.

And luckily for us, we did find one. Tony showed the driver the hotel's address and asked if we were close. "No, not at all," was the response. But luckily he knew where to find it, and we embarked on a nail-biting ride across the city, dodging pedestrians and bicyclists, and at one point narrowly avoiding a tram as we coasted dangerously along the edges of its tracks.

A well-established Amsterdam houseboat docked in the shade.

Our hotel was on the edges of the Amsterdam World Trade Center, some distance from the center of the city. And so it was that our second day in Amsterdam began with a 30-minute walk to the museum district, where we waited in line for over an hour before taking in the delights of the Van Gogh Museum.

Given the experience of the previous day, we were not only exhausted but completely sick of walking and trying to find our way around. So after Van Gogh, we took the advice of every guidebook we'd ever read and decided to invest in a hop-on, hop-off Canal Tour.

BEST. DECISION. EVER. We were able to bask on the warm deck of the flat boat and watch Amsterdam's beautiful buildings pass by from the level of the water. Even better, it took us all the way back up to Centraal Station, where we departed in search of the Red Light District. Once that little excursion was complete, we made our way back to the dock and then coasted along the canals to the Anne Frank House.

If only we'd had tram access that first day, or shelled out for the boat tour; we would have had the energy to try to cram in some more things into those two days in Amsterdam. By the end of those two days, we were so exhausted that we barely made it back to Centraal. And once in Rotterdam, it was a long walk back to Dierdre and Co's place where, after the customary offered Heinekens, we gratefully fell into bed.

So, take our advice: BUY A TRAM PASS. We had looked into the MyAmsterdam pass, which would have provided us unlimited access to public transit for the duration of our stay, but we decided against it since the amount of museum and attraction discounts we could amass in two days did not seem to make up for the cost of the pass. Now we know, however, that the availability of public transit alone would have made the pass worth it. it won't be valid on any of the canal cruises, but you'll be glad to spend a little extra money for that when you find that you still have energy to take in some Amsterdam nightlife; I'm pretty sure that Tony and I, as a result of the miles we'd walked that day, were soundly sleeping in our neon-lit hotel bed by 11 PM.

Park at the rear of the Riijksmuseum, with the famous I Amsterdam sculpture in front.

There is plenty more Dutch ground to cover, so stay tuned for updates on the Riijskmuseum, the Heineken Experience, Qbic Hotel, The Van Gogh Museum, The Red Light District, and the Anne Frank House.