Waking up to a grey sky and the dismal splatter of raindrops almost gave poor Roz a heart attack - her book options (ferry ride, cycling in the countryside north of Amsterdam)demanded sun. And so we wrapped up and headed out to the American Hotel, where we had heard tell of a great jazz brunch. In fact it turned out to be a rather unappetising buffet, so instead we retired to the Stanislavski restaurant in a pretty theatre for our scrambled eggs and croissants. Our zeal to recreate those wonderful New York brunches demanded mimosas, but the bar woman refused to make them due to not knowing the recipe. One glass of orange juice, one glass of prosecco and an extra champagne glass later and we were sipping home made mimosas with pride.
After brunch we suddenly had a mad shopping enthusiasm: most uncharacteristic. I got new boots from a fancy shop and we pottered back to the hotel via afternoon coffee, a visit to an art market, and a stroll along the canals. We glammed up and headed out for a reasonable dinner at the much recommended and rather hippy style Golden Temple, followed by a Boom Chicago comedy show in central Amsterdam. After the show (and its accompanying bottle of wine), we walked hotelwards along cobbled paths and canal bridges and stopped at a sweet and trendy little bar for a final glass of wine to dull the pain of a holiday that was short and nearly over.
The next day we had a light breakfast in the fashionable Esprit cafe, before catching a tram out of town and to what turned out to be Amsterdam's top restaurant and quite possibly one of my top restaurants ever (which is saying a lot): De Kas. It was very, very good. Set in the middle of a park, it is a huge glasshouse, with its own greenhouse where the chefs pick the ingredients specifically for your meal. Wonderful service, spectacular food, and our desserts had 'happy anniversary' piped onto them in chocolate. A proper occasion restaurant, and a massive treat. In fact I was so intent on lingering that we nearly missed our train. We dashed along the platform and jumped aboard in the nick of time. And started chugging towards London.
Luckily the fun wasn't quite over. We got off at Brussels, took the subway into town, and finished our weekend in grand style over waffles and crepes in the Grand Place before finally sinking into the comfy chairs with an armful of newspapers in the first class lounge, and awaiting our summons back to London. Bravo Roz. A wonderful surprise third anniversary treat.
Tuesday 21 September 2010
Sunday 19 September 2010
A surprise trip to Amsterdam
By Layla
The third anniversary of getting together demands celebration, and Roz is responsible for ensuring that suitable celebration happens (I’m in charge of wedding anniversaries). For year one she raised expectations sky high – our anniversary was on the Saturday and she’d asked to organise it… I gratefully agreed. I’d imagined a nice meal. So it was with absolute excitement that on Friday afternoon, while working at a conference in a hotel in London, I was told I had a package awaiting me with the concierge. I retrieved said package, opened it, and found a notebook. On the front was a post-it note: ‘this is your anniversary present: you may only turn the pages when instructed to do so. You may now turn the first page’. This book led me, step by step, to Brussels (our particular city of romance) and we had a wonderful weekend away, involving me turning pages of the book every time a new activity approached. It was fantastic and the most romantic thing I had ever experienced.
On year 2, a similar book appeared, and we went to Oxford, for punting, and spectacular meals, including a 10 course tasting menu.
This year she told me that there would not be a book. I reassured her (with a tiny smidge of disappointment) that I certainly could not expect yet another book. Our anniversary was on Monday. So it was with great surprise that I came home from work on Thursday night and checked the post to find an envelope containing…. another book! It instructed me to ensure I was at a particular bus stop at a particular time the following day with my bags packed. Only at the bus stop could I turn the page. I almost burst with excitement.
The next day, promptly at the bus stop with bag in hand I found I was to get the 45 bus to Kings Cross, then that I was going to International Departures , then that the first leg of our journey was to Brussels. We sipped G&Ts in the first class lounge and I tried to restrain myself from turning the page. On the train, with wine in hand and meals served, it was time to turn the page… we were going to Amsterdam!
A change at Brussels, and another train later, we stepped out at Amsterdam Centrale. I was intrigued. Amsterdam has always had its red light district and cannabis reputation, but I had full confidence in Roz’s classiness. We walked through the stag night parties on the road between the station and Dam Square, then walked a little more and found ourselves in a romantic cobbled-street network of glistening canals sparkling with lights from the many bridges. The streets between were tiny with little boutique shops selling beautiful specialist items, and the streets were filled with cyclists, their bikes parked by the hundreds along the streets, their owners in nearby pretty, fashionable bars by the canals.
Soon, between the Western Canal Belt and the quirky Jordaan areas, we reached our hotel, the Ambassade, known for its popularity with authors. It’s made up of several canal houses, which meant our bedroom, romantically decorated in the style of Louis Quatorze apparently, had a little balcony overlooking the canal. Roz’s book proudly advised me that the hotel was one of Time Out’s top 5 Amsterdam hotels.
No sooner had we checked in, at about 10:30pm, it was time to turn the page and make our way over canal bridges and through little streets to Vyne, one of Amsterdam’s only wine bars. Romantic and highly stylish. we drank prosecco and Sancerre before returning through the pretty streets to bed.
On Saturday morning it was time to turn the page and find out our breakfast destination: Gartine. In the city centre, Gartine is, according to Time Out, ‘simple but marvellous’. The scrambled eggs on sourdough bread were some of the most delicious I’ve ever had, and the restaurant is friendly and stylish and very cool.
After breakfast, Roz felt the need for a scarf. I mocked her as it wasn’t that cold, but after obtaining one, she pointed out to me that every single Amsterdam woman was wearing a scarf! I blushed under the shame of my fashion faux pas. But I turned more pages and bravely soldiered on. Our next stop was Noordermarkt, a cool local farmers’ market, accessed along another very pretty canal. We wandered from stall to stall, sampling olive oil and lots of cheese, and then walked down the another canal to the Jordaan area where we popped our head into a rather deserted lesbian bar (well, it was about 12 noon) and enjoyed the pretty buildings, and settled for a drink in a café overlooking the water.
After our drinks, we proceeded to Vondelpark, where we walked romantically past lakes filled with ducks, and a wedding party, and had lunch at Vertigo, at the Film Museum. And then through Museumplatz, where lots of the museums are located in an attractive landscaped park. Turning the page, I found we were off on a guided cycle ride of Amsterdam. This was fun, and I felt like a local as we zipped up and down the canal bridges (known as ‘Dutch hills’ apparently) and heard various stories of Amsterdam. The most interesting, I thought, was that Amsterdam’s symbol is 3 Xs (for Catholic reasons) and when they legalised porn, all porn coming out of Amsterdam was marked with the city symbol (as were all exports), i.e. XXX. And this is why porn is now known as XXX.
After our bike ride, and a speedy walk back to our hotel to glam up, we walked off to a very glamorous and quirky restaurant at De Witte Uyl (Roz having apparently done much research regarding the best restaurant in Amsterdam). Cool 1920s interior, delicious food, and best of all… as an alternative to a cheeseboard they had… a chocolate board! An array of chocolate with a big pick to chisel off chunks of chocolate.
We wandered home down canals with bikes pottering past, and went to sleep absolutely full, having overindulged excessively on that chocolate board…
The third anniversary of getting together demands celebration, and Roz is responsible for ensuring that suitable celebration happens (I’m in charge of wedding anniversaries). For year one she raised expectations sky high – our anniversary was on the Saturday and she’d asked to organise it… I gratefully agreed. I’d imagined a nice meal. So it was with absolute excitement that on Friday afternoon, while working at a conference in a hotel in London, I was told I had a package awaiting me with the concierge. I retrieved said package, opened it, and found a notebook. On the front was a post-it note: ‘this is your anniversary present: you may only turn the pages when instructed to do so. You may now turn the first page’. This book led me, step by step, to Brussels (our particular city of romance) and we had a wonderful weekend away, involving me turning pages of the book every time a new activity approached. It was fantastic and the most romantic thing I had ever experienced.
On year 2, a similar book appeared, and we went to Oxford, for punting, and spectacular meals, including a 10 course tasting menu.
This year she told me that there would not be a book. I reassured her (with a tiny smidge of disappointment) that I certainly could not expect yet another book. Our anniversary was on Monday. So it was with great surprise that I came home from work on Thursday night and checked the post to find an envelope containing…. another book! It instructed me to ensure I was at a particular bus stop at a particular time the following day with my bags packed. Only at the bus stop could I turn the page. I almost burst with excitement.
The next day, promptly at the bus stop with bag in hand I found I was to get the 45 bus to Kings Cross, then that I was going to International Departures , then that the first leg of our journey was to Brussels. We sipped G&Ts in the first class lounge and I tried to restrain myself from turning the page. On the train, with wine in hand and meals served, it was time to turn the page… we were going to Amsterdam!
A change at Brussels, and another train later, we stepped out at Amsterdam Centrale. I was intrigued. Amsterdam has always had its red light district and cannabis reputation, but I had full confidence in Roz’s classiness. We walked through the stag night parties on the road between the station and Dam Square, then walked a little more and found ourselves in a romantic cobbled-street network of glistening canals sparkling with lights from the many bridges. The streets between were tiny with little boutique shops selling beautiful specialist items, and the streets were filled with cyclists, their bikes parked by the hundreds along the streets, their owners in nearby pretty, fashionable bars by the canals.
Soon, between the Western Canal Belt and the quirky Jordaan areas, we reached our hotel, the Ambassade, known for its popularity with authors. It’s made up of several canal houses, which meant our bedroom, romantically decorated in the style of Louis Quatorze apparently, had a little balcony overlooking the canal. Roz’s book proudly advised me that the hotel was one of Time Out’s top 5 Amsterdam hotels.
No sooner had we checked in, at about 10:30pm, it was time to turn the page and make our way over canal bridges and through little streets to Vyne, one of Amsterdam’s only wine bars. Romantic and highly stylish. we drank prosecco and Sancerre before returning through the pretty streets to bed.
On Saturday morning it was time to turn the page and find out our breakfast destination: Gartine. In the city centre, Gartine is, according to Time Out, ‘simple but marvellous’. The scrambled eggs on sourdough bread were some of the most delicious I’ve ever had, and the restaurant is friendly and stylish and very cool.
After breakfast, Roz felt the need for a scarf. I mocked her as it wasn’t that cold, but after obtaining one, she pointed out to me that every single Amsterdam woman was wearing a scarf! I blushed under the shame of my fashion faux pas. But I turned more pages and bravely soldiered on. Our next stop was Noordermarkt, a cool local farmers’ market, accessed along another very pretty canal. We wandered from stall to stall, sampling olive oil and lots of cheese, and then walked down the another canal to the Jordaan area where we popped our head into a rather deserted lesbian bar (well, it was about 12 noon) and enjoyed the pretty buildings, and settled for a drink in a café overlooking the water.
After our drinks, we proceeded to Vondelpark, where we walked romantically past lakes filled with ducks, and a wedding party, and had lunch at Vertigo, at the Film Museum. And then through Museumplatz, where lots of the museums are located in an attractive landscaped park. Turning the page, I found we were off on a guided cycle ride of Amsterdam. This was fun, and I felt like a local as we zipped up and down the canal bridges (known as ‘Dutch hills’ apparently) and heard various stories of Amsterdam. The most interesting, I thought, was that Amsterdam’s symbol is 3 Xs (for Catholic reasons) and when they legalised porn, all porn coming out of Amsterdam was marked with the city symbol (as were all exports), i.e. XXX. And this is why porn is now known as XXX.
After our bike ride, and a speedy walk back to our hotel to glam up, we walked off to a very glamorous and quirky restaurant at De Witte Uyl (Roz having apparently done much research regarding the best restaurant in Amsterdam). Cool 1920s interior, delicious food, and best of all… as an alternative to a cheeseboard they had… a chocolate board! An array of chocolate with a big pick to chisel off chunks of chocolate.
We wandered home down canals with bikes pottering past, and went to sleep absolutely full, having overindulged excessively on that chocolate board…
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