17 Feb Six Hours in Amsterdam

What would you do if you had six hours in Amsterdam?

This isn’t a rhetorical question, nor is it meant to have some kind of deeper secondary meaning on any level—I’m literally asking you what you would do if you only had six hours in the city of Amsterdam? Because that’s exactly how much time we had. Here’s how we spent it.

3:30 PM

After flying in around 1 PM, going through customs, figuring out the shuttle, and getting to our very budget hotel, Colton and I check our phones to see that it’s roughly 3:30 PM local time. It could have been any hour as far as our internal body clocks were concerned. We’re tempted to lay down our heads for a quick nap, but as seasoned travelers, we know that the best thing to do is pop into the shower located two feet from the bed and embrace the day. And that’s what we do!

4:15 PM

We take a bus into Amsterdam’s city center. The ride is about 15-20 minutes and not the most thrilling, visually, but that may be because it’s overcast. The Netherlands are just as flat as I remembered them being, which is a comfort; no major geologic event took place in the past couple years to disrupt the ground beneath our feet. Without a distinct idea of where we’re going or any access to reliable internet, Colton and I decide to alight the bus as soon as we get to an area that looks remotely city-like. I take charge, insisting that I know the way because I’d been to Amsterdam just two years prior (spoiler: I do not).

4:45 PM

After a spot of orienting and ten minutes walking in one direction, I realize that I have to use the restroom. Our immediate goal is to find a place to grab a drink and maybe something to eat, but this street doesn’t feel quite right. With my bladder needs becoming urgent, we pop into a bottle shop and talk to the guy behind the counter briefly about jenever/genever before asking kindly for some direction. He informs us that we have been walking the exact wrong way and points out a place up the road that’s a classic Dutch restaurant and very well-liked. We thank him and are on our way.

4:49 PM

The Dutch place is closed. We soldier on.

5:07 PM

We reach the Museumplein, which is where I thought we had been dropped off by the bus. Whoops. It’s a big public square with three great museums—the Van Gogh, the Rijksmuseum, and the Stedelijk Museum. I went to the Van Gogh museum when I was last in Amsterdam—it was lovely, his work is very much up my street—but I’m not here for culturally-significant art today. I make a B line to the nearest building in search of a bathroom.

5:20 PM

Bladders empty and equipped with a map provided by one of the museum’s employees, we continue in the direction of the city center. We pass through a section of the city that has a lot of expensive brand name stores—Chanel, Prada, Burberry. Not quite in our budget. We take a left, letting our intuition and the crudely rendered map lead the way. Eventually we cross a bridge to find…a Hard Rock Café? They have one of those in Amsterdam? Though the idea of winning big on the slots, taking all that money back to Designer Alley, and spending every last dime Pretty Woman-style is tempting, we barrel through this tourist trap in search of greener pastures.

5:57 PM

It’s becoming clear that we are ever so slightly lost again. Though we are mostly aimless, we didn’t leave the hotel that afternoon with no goal in mind: I had wanted to take Colton to this great gin bar that I’d been to last time called Venus & Adonis. By consulting the museum map and a screenshot I have on my phone, we’re able to slowly make our way in the general direction of the bar, though finding its specific location will not be possible without the aid of Google Maps. Plus, we’re hungry.

6:20 PM

The crowds are thinning, brand names are disappearing off the marquees of the stores around us, and the alleys are getting smaller: we are leaving the heavily touristy area of central Amsterdam. We pass by a tiki bar on a corner that makes us pause, intrigued as we are by its orange-tinted interior, but we keep walking and on our way down the street there’s a quaint-looking tapas restaurant. Part of me—the knowing part—feels that we still haven’t ventured far enough away to find a true gem of a restaurant. Another part of me—my stomach—is hungry for food. We decide to give it a try.

6:45 PM

This tapas restaurant is not a gem, but the food’s okay and there’s wifi. We eat quickly and I’m able to locate where we are in relation to Venus & Adonis, as well as take some more detailed screenshots. We decide to pop into the tiki restaurant after we finish eating.

7:15 PM

The tiki restaurant seems decently populated for 7 PM on a Tuesday, especially compared to the tapas place (did I mention that we were the only ones in there for the first 30 minutes?) We belly up and look for a menu, which they either don’t have or don’t feel like offering to us at that time, so instead we chat with the bartender for a bit before picking out some rums and leaving the rest to him. He’s hip, the bar’s cool, and the drinks end up being aggressively mediocre. I think that Amsterdam is telling us to search for a more classically Dutch bar after this.

8:30 PM

After more walking, some of which is in the wrong direction, we finally make it to Venus & Adonis! I’m overjoyed but also worried that I’ve built this place up too much in my mind and Colton’s imagination, setting a bar it couldn’t possibly live up to. We go inside and grab a couple of seats.

What had struck me about this place the last time I had been there was how very European it seemed, at least to me, a lame American. Here is this tiny watering hole, situated on one of the many canals Amsterdam is famous for—a canal that is in and of itself not famous in any way—and upon pulling back the literal curtain you are instantly overwhelmed by its warmth and effortless charm. Then you get a drink list and there’s at least seven different gin and tonics, each of which features a desirable spirit and unique flavor profile, and you’re overwhelmed yet again by the choices that have been provided to you by this unassuming little bar. Also, it was the middle of summer when I was there, and the sun was shining but it wasn’t too hot; my party and I sat outside, sipping our aesthetically pleasing gin and tonics, and it was all just right.

This time, not much has changed, except the weather and the time of day. The menu is as involved as ever. Colton and I decide to skip their most popular cocktail, a G&T I’d had last time that made me fall in love with Brockman’s gin, and instead op for a savory G&T and a rum and tonic made with Spirited Union’s Lemon & Leaf, a botanical Agricole-style rum that’s produced in Amsterdam. The savory G&T is good if a bit overserved; the flavors are so strong that I really don’t need that drink given to me in a pint glass unless I’m having it with food. The rum and tonic is really where it’s at (friends will know that this is a drink I love unabashedly), and we end up taking turns sipping from that. Our conversation isn’t very lively—the jet lag’s beginning to dig its claws into us. We settle up, thank our bartenders, and head for the door.

~9:30 PM

It’s raining outside. We think we might be able to make it through, but the rains coming down quite hard. Neither of us are in moisture-wicking clothing. We duck under an awning and wait for the rain to abate, and eventually it’s light enough that we can trudge back to the Museumplein and grab the bus.

11:08 PM

Our heads hit the pillows. Lights out.