An Amsterdam interlude

A boat road, chill vibes, and some unexpected local color

Oh friends, it’s still hot in Paris. It was 90 degrees outside while I was writing this and even with a fan blowing directly at my face, I was uncomfortable. But there are cooler temperatures on the horizon, starting tomorrow and I’m so happy I could cry.

Jason and I visited Amsterdam earlier this week, and I loved its casual, bohemian atmosphere. It reminded me of Madison, WI, in the 90s, which was both comforting and nostalgic.

The youngsters were wearing Nirvana t-shirts, faded jeans, and Dr. Martens, just as I had in college, and I felt a kinship with them even though I am now old enough to be their mother.

There wasn’t any pressure to look a certain way or to have the right handbag or shoes, which was a relief since Parisians, as you know, can be a smidge judgy. I just rolled out of bed each morning and barely had to think about what to wear.

We ate Indonesian food and drank Campari spritzes and Negronis. I stocked up on my favorite Tony’s Chocolonely bars and admired the famous blue and white Delft pottery.

I love being on the water, and booked a lovely two-hour canal boat ride with an open bar, snacks, and only nine other passengers.

The jovial young captain told us all about the city’s history and pointed out places of note including the house where Anne Frank and her family hid from the Nazis.

One afternoon, I was walking on a quiet street along the Singel canal not far from our hotel when I noticed a middle-aged woman standing in a window.

She had cropped no-nonsense hair and was wearing black shorts and a camisole. Her arms hung at her sides and she was expressionless, like an apparition caught in daylight.

I was startled when our eyes met, and it dawned on me that she was a window worker, a type of sex worker who rents a room in a licensed home to conduct business.

I quickly turned away and kept walking, worried that I had unintentionally lingered a second too long.

But I had questions. Many questions.

Lucky for me, the perfect person to answer them was our friend, S, an American who lives in Amsterdam and works part-time as a dominatrix. “Business is booming,” she told us.

Over beers and a big platter of fries and vegan bitterballen at her local “brown bar,” I peppered her with questions.

What were the rules and unspoken social codes of window work? How did a potential client find out what was on offer? What was the proper etiquette when walking past? How did the women stay safe?

S’s Dutch friend chimed in. “Starting when I was about six, my parents told me to walk quickly by and never look,” he said.

Oops. Curious but respectful observation was not one of the approved options. Still, it’s not as though I stood there gawking or, God forbid, took a photo.

Amsterdam is famously tolerant, but it has its own rules, from when to avert your eyes(immediately) to how not to get flattened by a bicycle (constant vigilance).

I heard only one siren during our entire stay. The subway was immaculate, the people were friendly, and the city offered a welcome break from the intensity—and heat—of Paris.

Even so, when the train pulled into Gare du Nord, I was happy to be home.

A few Amsterdam recommendations

The Toren. Housed in two 17th century former private homes, the 40-room four-star hotel is perfectly located near the vibrant Jordaan neighborhood on a quiet stretch of the Keizersgracht canal. I’d stay here again thanks to delightful staff, cozy ambiance, and a super comfy bed.

A highlight of our short trip was a two-hour evening canal cruise aboard the snazzy Pure Spirit. It had everything I needed for a successful outing including a fun and knowledgeable captain, an open bar with decent rosé, and not enough people to be annoying.

Little Bonfire. We sat at the bar on our first night in town and chatted with the French bartender and servers. It was such a cute place that we went back on our last night for dinner and shared bruschetta with lemon ricotta and broad beans, grilled entrecôte, and flatiron chicken in n’duja sauce.

If cannabis is your thing, may I suggest Paradox, a relaxed “coffeeshop,” which sells space cakes, pre-rolls, and flower.

You can learn all about Amsterdam’s canals and the city’s 400-year-old history at the Museum of the Canals. I didn’t have a chance to go during this trip but have it on good authority from a local that it’s worth going.

Bakkerij Wolf is a very popular bakery and café that serves shakshuka, sandwiches, and hearty breakfast and lunch fare. They also make their own bread and pastries, including a croissant that rivaled many that I’ve had in France. We went twice if that tells you anything.

If you walk by Winkel 43 on a sunny afternoon, every table will be filled with people gobbling down their famous homemade apple pie.

Tony’s Super Store. I adore this mission-driven company’s dark milk chocolate pretzel flavor and discovered that Tony’s Chocolonely was founded in Amsterdam. At the flagship location, you can customize your own bar but be forewarned that there’s a line even before the doors open at 10.

Walk or bike off all the stroopwafels, cheese, and craft beer in Vondelpark, a gorgeous 116-acre green space in the city.