Amsterdam to Africa

The hotel that I had reserved turned out to be quite good: the Museum House near the Concert Hall. I’m glad it was because now that there are all of these sites with people’s comments, etc. it’s hard to find a place for which some cranky prince/princess has not written a whiny screed based on the fact that he/she could hear the water pipes or some such thing. Once we made it into the city, it then took a little while to get out to the hotel from the Centraal Station. We took tram #16, which does not run right in front of the station, but rather a block away, but that was nice because a) I love trams on general principle and b) it’s a nice way to see a city. I had been to Amsterdam on two occasions previously but this time I felt like I really got a better feel for the place. Of course, the first time, back in ’91 was kind of booze-inflected and then the second was more a “take in what we can” 1 day tour after Helene and I had left Herstmonceux Castle and were bumming around for a bit before going home to stay with our respective parents in advance of moving to Ithaca. In any event, to be here this time during the fall was also great; it was nice and cool out and the leaves were changing… the canals were pretty (as were, it must be said, the women on their bicycles!) and it was great to just wander and check out the shops.

Somehow, I found myself talking to a wineseller who specialises in Italian and French (I noticed a couple of nice ’97 Burgundies that were begging to be drunk but there was no way that I could carry wine around at the start of this trip… but still… they made me think of that exquisite Vincent Girardin Aloxe-Corton 1997 that Joe and I shared in the spring of 2003…). Because we were starting to get pretty hungry (I think all that we had eaten was a bit of yoghurt on the plane), I hit up the owner for a nice place to go. He suggested a very much in-demand Italian trattoria and so we used that as our target for another hour’s worth of walking. The Jordaan area of Amsterdam is phenomenal and so pleasant to wander about…

As we were getting close to our destination, we passed another small restaurant and saw the staff eating dinner in advance of the evening service… the smells coming out of there were divine and I made a quick mental note… anywhere that smells that good for the staff meal has got to be worth checking out… It was good that we had walked by that place because, in the end, we did return to this non-descript resto. The one we were looking for turned out to be totally booked already -- even on a Tuesday night. No complaints from us, though, because the at Café Principe Curtis was fan-fucking-tastic. The incredibly friendly Dutch waitress sat us at the communal table, where we spoke to her in Spanish so that she could practice and chatted a bit with a regular from Curacao who apparently stops in every day for his tea. As we ate our bread and oil (sesame coated flatbread with a very soft and nicely spiced oil), the place began to fill up. I enjoyed my bresaola but the winning appetizer was Helene’s grilled tuna… the secret to its wonderfulness? It had been encrusted in fennel seeds, which had then toasted to varying degrees… oh yes, fennel…. Mmm… Am definitely going to try this out at home.

The mains literally took over an hour to come. We figured that the chef had decided that everyone should have their apps… and who were we to complain? Especially given the warm service? The owner brought in a couple of friends with a baby and we talked to them a bit, as well as to a woman from Toronto who sat at the table with us. She gave us a contact in Tanzania who works with children with AIDS and helped found an orphanage. At this point, it was good to have to talk to other people because I was fading fast (not much sleep on the plane after the fainting incident). When the next plates arrived we were as impressed as with the appetizers: my tagliatelle (finer than I’m used to) with wild boar was tasty, as was H’s pasta with rapini and shrimp.

All in all, a wonderful meal and a great evening in Amsterdam. We walked back the couple of kilometres to the hotel and then crashed pretty much immediately, what with having to get up early to catch a bus to Schipol for the flight to Cape Town… we’re about 3 hours out as I write this and just a few minutes ago I realised that I had crossed the equator for the first time! I was watching the great KLM flight tracker and seeing the line bisect Africa totally took me back to those primary school exercises where we had to draw the continents… it’s kind of crazy to think that in the course of a single day, one can go from northern Europe to the southern tip of Africa… isn’t it?

There’s supposed to be a bus of some sort available to take us to the Backpackers’ Hotel where we have a room reserved… I can’t wait to see the night sky, though, and check out the Southern Cross for the first time! Hmm, I wonder if you can see the moon in South Africa? Ha ha… that’s a play on the stupidest question we had at EXPO’92 in Seville… a woman from the Midwest asked Stuart that very thing… it was only later that we decided that the perfect answer would have been to say that no, the moon is kept in a geosynchronous orbit above the US…

Tomorrow it will be up to Table Mountain if the weather is nice and then to explore Cape Town a bit before we rent a car and head out on the swankiest part of our trip: the Garden Route through what is supposed to be some of the most beautiful wine country in the world…