An entry in the TFS Travel Journal
We set off from quaint, character-laden Delft for our noon chiropractor appointment in the Scheveningen section of Den Haag.
Arrived with plenty of time, so we strolled the boardwalk along the beach. Could have been Atlantic City (especially since they do have casinos) or Miami Beach. The grand Hotel Kurhaus was really a sight out of historic Coney Island, and clearly had the early bird special going in their mammoth dining room filled with the blue-hair lunch crowd. Our chiropractic visit was just what the doctor ordered, and was administered by an interesting guy who looked like the adult lead from the Czech movie Kolya, and had just come back from a multi-year assignment (on behalf of some Int’l Chiropractic Association) in Croatia. (like having access to adequate Chiropractors is their major problem)
We then lunched on the boardwalk at the Masada Cafe, the only Israeli restaurant in Den Haag, maybe the Netherlands. It was like welcoming an old friend: hummus, falafel, baba-ganoush, grilled turkey and chicken pitas, and sparkling water in enormous Heineken steins, all served by the effusive Mikhaila from Israel, who may one day visit us in NY.
We drove into Den Haag town center and parked on a busy street rather than a quiet garage, since all our worldly possessions were in the car, then walked to the Mauritshaus Museum. A compact museum with one of the foremost collections of Flemish and Dutch Master paintings. Some unforgettable Vermeers (girl w/pearl earring, view of Delft) and Rembrandts, including a self-portrait when he was 22 and one when he was 63, the year he died. The contrast in content as well as style was indeed fascinating.
While we were inside, it began raining –hard– so Milton chivalrously and gallantly used the one umbrella we’d brought and walked/waded through what became a drenching downpour back to the car. Actually locating the car, then successfully driving back to the museum (amidst the ubiquitous construction and closed and one-way streets) was an achievement tantamount to cracking the Nazi war codes. Thus reunited, we drove off to Amsterdam, our final stop on the first leg of this magical mashuganah tour.
Endured traffic to rival that of the U.S., then got quite lost in Amsterdam Noord, but extricated ourselves thanks to the large maps that are posted on many roadsides. Checked into the charming Canal House, which has lots of personality (and stairs). The hotel is owned by an American couple, who have decorated it with beautiful pieces from all over Europe, and European history, and is the perfect place to conclude a European tour!
We went for dinner around the corner at a cafe and had some flavorful tomato-basil soup and two salads, the chef’s and a Caesar. The weather this time around is heavenly — cool and breezy — in contrast to the hellish heat of two weeks ago. After dining outside, we went for a walk around the general neighborhood — the Jordaan, sort of the village/soho of Amsterdam.
The walk was idyllic: we passed many local bistros, with their glass facades and filled with people having a good time, saw a few prostitutes waiting expectantly in their windows, heard/saw some loud-music bars (two called “The Doors” in that familiar lettering), checked the menu at a hash bar (all legal here) which we passed on, though we did have enjoy a (chocolate) brownie, and peered in numerous windows into spacious apartments tastefully decorated in a whole spectrum of styles; all along quiet streets and lighted canals. A romantic, timeless walk we know we will remember for a long while.