Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Leiden
Despite the critical testimony from the previous entry, I’ve always liked Amsterdam. And while I’m sure you can never truly say you’ve “done” the Van Gough museum or the Rijksmuseum, I’ve spent several days intensively exploring the city on past visits, and feel like branching out…
So, I’ve skipped the crazed bustle of summer-time Amsterdam and headed the opposite direction, southwest to Leiden, to see some friends who miraculously, at the last minute, managed to take half a day off to spend it with me.
I’d planned to meet them at the Rijksmuseum van Oudheden where one of them is currently working on the Egyptian collection. I of course managed to wander past it, thanks to it's extremely understated appearance. By this, I mean, the museum looks exactly like the houses, the bank, the department store, and the Center for Reproductive Health - all lovely looking, centuries-old Dutch houses, but all nearly indistinguishable.
For those of you keeping track, these friends I’m visiting are the same crazy Dutch that instigated the legendary Siwa Oasis trip in Egypt (resulting in several nights spent sleeping rough in the desert and my first broken finger...)
But they seem to have mellowed, and rather than suggesting we hire bicycles and make a go for the Hague, they settled on a pub and a sandwich.
Even though it was market day, wandering around Leiden was astonishingly peaceful. So much quieter and laid-back than Amsterdam. Quaint cafes. We found a wonderful pub with tables set on a gently tilting platform afloat in the Rapenburg Canal.
They (as with everyone K encountered in Basel) couldn't resist peppering me with questions about whether Bush will survive the next election. K, alluding to the way she was besieged for an opinion in Basel, suggested that the Germans seemed to think she possessed some special Political 6th Sense, unique to Americans. One Dutch friend believed she was so prodded for insight because "never in history has America had a president who's so managed to insult, annoy, and aggravate Europe." I suggested that between the Monroe Doctrine, The Spanish American War, the early 20th century isolationist policies, not to mention the War of 1812 and the aggravation the Civil War caused in various parts of France and English, I thought his assessment was probably an overstatement. He conceded that, really, it was just that there wasn't a president of such ire-inspiring ability that they could remember. But they couldn't remember who that guy was that came before Reagan, so it was a limited political appraisal. But the worries of the present always seem the most dramatic, and in the end I sympathized with his opinions.
Still, they were fascinated with any news of the coming election, and after presenting what I hope was an even-handed and rational overview of the primaries, current campaign law, the issues that seem pegged for later campaigning, and this morning's selection of John Edwards as running mate - I had to confess that I really don't know what's going to happen.
Not the answer anyone wanted to hear.
Then, after pushing our impatient waitress to the breaking point by sitting for 3 hours and only having lunch and 3 rounds of drinks, we finally relinquished our table and wandered along the quaint streets.
We popped our head into the octagonal MareKerk. Then the Hartebrug Kerk, the First Catholic church allowed in modern Leiden. Built in 1836, it was a disappointingly plain, white-washed affair, with a roof like the D.C. train station and cream linoleum floor - all the way down to the alter.
Wandering amongst the old churches, I was again struck by the irreverent density of Holland's cities - you can never really "see" a church, because it's always accompanied by buildings attached to nearly every side. There's a spire, and a door, and sometimes a grand façade up front, but never a churchyard or quaint little fence. Hardly even a market square.
Before dashing off for the train station, we climbed the walls of Leıden Castle – originally built in the 12th Century as a simple round keep, but rebuilt in the 19th century when it was already in severe decay. Because the medieval structure (what was left of it) was originally built in an archaized, Roman tradition, the 19th century conservators believed it to be a Roman ruin, and rebuilt it in entirely the wrong style.
But, in a display of methodology far ahead of their time, they clearly differentiated the restored areas from the original (not attempting to match brickwork, etc) so that the original, medieval neo-roman stonework is still clearly evident.
My friends had childhood stories of hopping the gate at night, and “playing castle” along its ancient battlements. I can only imagine.
We wandered along "new" streets that only a few years ago had been canals - filled in and paved over to make way for cars and new buildings. Hard to fault them - it's not as if they haven't made the most of ALL the space available, but still it seems sad.
A tourist's naïve wish for things to remain the same, natives be damned…
----
Oh, and by the way. My friends think the Dutch woman on the plane was insane. No idea what she was talking about…
|
So, I’ve skipped the crazed bustle of summer-time Amsterdam and headed the opposite direction, southwest to Leiden, to see some friends who miraculously, at the last minute, managed to take half a day off to spend it with me.
I’d planned to meet them at the Rijksmuseum van Oudheden where one of them is currently working on the Egyptian collection. I of course managed to wander past it, thanks to it's extremely understated appearance. By this, I mean, the museum looks exactly like the houses, the bank, the department store, and the Center for Reproductive Health - all lovely looking, centuries-old Dutch houses, but all nearly indistinguishable.
For those of you keeping track, these friends I’m visiting are the same crazy Dutch that instigated the legendary Siwa Oasis trip in Egypt (resulting in several nights spent sleeping rough in the desert and my first broken finger...)
But they seem to have mellowed, and rather than suggesting we hire bicycles and make a go for the Hague, they settled on a pub and a sandwich.
Even though it was market day, wandering around Leiden was astonishingly peaceful. So much quieter and laid-back than Amsterdam. Quaint cafes. We found a wonderful pub with tables set on a gently tilting platform afloat in the Rapenburg Canal.
They (as with everyone K encountered in Basel) couldn't resist peppering me with questions about whether Bush will survive the next election. K, alluding to the way she was besieged for an opinion in Basel, suggested that the Germans seemed to think she possessed some special Political 6th Sense, unique to Americans. One Dutch friend believed she was so prodded for insight because "never in history has America had a president who's so managed to insult, annoy, and aggravate Europe." I suggested that between the Monroe Doctrine, The Spanish American War, the early 20th century isolationist policies, not to mention the War of 1812 and the aggravation the Civil War caused in various parts of France and English, I thought his assessment was probably an overstatement. He conceded that, really, it was just that there wasn't a president of such ire-inspiring ability that they could remember. But they couldn't remember who that guy was that came before Reagan, so it was a limited political appraisal. But the worries of the present always seem the most dramatic, and in the end I sympathized with his opinions.
Still, they were fascinated with any news of the coming election, and after presenting what I hope was an even-handed and rational overview of the primaries, current campaign law, the issues that seem pegged for later campaigning, and this morning's selection of John Edwards as running mate - I had to confess that I really don't know what's going to happen.
Not the answer anyone wanted to hear.
Then, after pushing our impatient waitress to the breaking point by sitting for 3 hours and only having lunch and 3 rounds of drinks, we finally relinquished our table and wandered along the quaint streets.
We popped our head into the octagonal MareKerk. Then the Hartebrug Kerk, the First Catholic church allowed in modern Leiden. Built in 1836, it was a disappointingly plain, white-washed affair, with a roof like the D.C. train station and cream linoleum floor - all the way down to the alter.
Wandering amongst the old churches, I was again struck by the irreverent density of Holland's cities - you can never really "see" a church, because it's always accompanied by buildings attached to nearly every side. There's a spire, and a door, and sometimes a grand façade up front, but never a churchyard or quaint little fence. Hardly even a market square.
Before dashing off for the train station, we climbed the walls of Leıden Castle – originally built in the 12th Century as a simple round keep, but rebuilt in the 19th century when it was already in severe decay. Because the medieval structure (what was left of it) was originally built in an archaized, Roman tradition, the 19th century conservators believed it to be a Roman ruin, and rebuilt it in entirely the wrong style.
But, in a display of methodology far ahead of their time, they clearly differentiated the restored areas from the original (not attempting to match brickwork, etc) so that the original, medieval neo-roman stonework is still clearly evident.
My friends had childhood stories of hopping the gate at night, and “playing castle” along its ancient battlements. I can only imagine.
We wandered along "new" streets that only a few years ago had been canals - filled in and paved over to make way for cars and new buildings. Hard to fault them - it's not as if they haven't made the most of ALL the space available, but still it seems sad.
A tourist's naïve wish for things to remain the same, natives be damned…
----
Oh, and by the way. My friends think the Dutch woman on the plane was insane. No idea what she was talking about…
|
