I-am-sterdam

If going down under is too much of a hassle, Western Europeans can at least experience the 'Venice of the North': the city of Amsterdam. While we were touring across a handful of countries in Europe, our first stop was the capital city of the Netherlands. Our Schengen visas required that we make it our point of entry into Europe; and I can safely bet that had that not been the case, the city would not have been on our itinerary. Mostly, when people think about heading out to the continent, the must-see's are London, Paris, Rome, Venice, Vienna, Madrid, Barcelona, but hardly ever do time-constrained travellers bring Amsterdam into the itinerary. I must confess however, that it proved to be a condition, my husband and I, both, were glad was thrust upon us. Walking out of the Centraal Station, smack in the centre of town, we instantly fell in love with the city. While the rest of Europe - save Germany, perhaps - oozes of history, lock, stock and smoking barrels, the Netherlands is a toddler still.

Its architecture, driven by tax laws at the time, dates back to the seventeenth century. An ode to a rough policy (no offence): since they were taxed based on frontal footage of their houses, homeowners stumbled upon distinctive architecture. They built their townhouses deep and tall; what they couldn't afford in lavish measurements, they made up for with almost vertically-placed staircases. Up, up and up we go, the streams running gently down below. Yes! That part about the step-sibling, Venice. Amsterdam, too, has got its water, weaving an intense web of mud-coloured canals. Like its big sister, cars aren't that popular in the city. While boats and gondolas remain the face of the Italian princess, the Dutch-ess is an impressive rival with its exuberance for bicycles and trams.

We were, admittedly a bit iffy on the accomodation. Amsterdam is quite straining on the pocket, especially if you're a budget traveller, who wants to stay in the centre of town, steps away from the station, and because you plan to abuse your Eurail Pass as often as you want to.

Since we couldn't afford the classy decors, we found ourselves walking into a hotel, hidden somewhere beneath a Samsung scaffolding, on the Damrak (arguably, the busiest road there), connecting the Centraal to the Dam Square. The entrance and the ambience of the property were more than just a tad depressing, but the clean room and the uber-friendly staff more than made up for it. People in the country - the Dutch and an ensemble of all kinds of nationalities - were among the friendliest few we came across in our entire trip. So welcoming (which should not come as a surprise, given the historic, open-armed refuge they gave to the Jews during Hitler's tirade). An Italian concierge, on finding out about our plans to visit his country in the second leg of our trip, spent 20 odd minutes with us, keenness dripping with recommendations for the best hotels, the best beaches and the best localities. Another volunteered to print some train schedules that we needed. A third made up a plan for the entire day for us. And yet another, a Pakistani, offered and later, went on to leave his jacket at the front-desk for my husband, after finding out that the notorious KLM-Alitalia combo had lost our luggage. It was cold, and we were travelling from a temperature of 40 degrees celcius back home, so our attire was screaming summer beach, while Amsterdam was cold(ddd) and Den Haag was freez(zzz)ing!

While I'm writing short of recommendations for tourists (I might mull a travelogue to delve deeper), my point is: Amsterdam is unique, it is vibrant and electric (some would say, not children-friendly), young but every-inch European, and in my experience, a most underrated destination.

Copyright (c) 2008 Saadia Malik

Credits: The first image was picked from Wikipedia; the third, from http://the-q-family.blogspot.com. The middle one is from our own trip.