Written by Katherine Sanders
Baran and I walked back from lunch at Crous Cafeteria discussing how little we knew about Dutch culture. One search led us to a main list of items: stroopwafels, frites and clogs. Perfect. We will eat stroopwafels and frites, and I will buy a pair of clogs.
Our six hour train to Amsterdam landed us in the Amsterdam Zuid station. A metro took us straight to an outdoor mall. We passed thrift stores, a KFC and TK Maxx before reaching our hostel, or hostelle. “Hostelle” is what you would guess it is—a female only hostel.
Hostelle didn’t shy away from its feminine nature. The lobby is decorated in pink and orange with bouquets of flowers on tables and an amalgamation of art work. The kitchen is tiled with colorful, floral porcelain. Walking past the lobby to the stairs, six makeup mirrors line the walls on pink tables with pink chairs. Up the stairs and around the corner, we opened the door to our eleven-person room. The beds and curtains were hot pink, and below each bunk were hot pink lockers where we stored our bags before heading out to the city.
We enjoyed the streets of Amsterdam as we made our way to the Van Gogh museum. The museum is in a canal-side park and looks like a small, glass box. Entering, we headed down below the ground before traveling up three floors of exhibits. I, like many others, was interested in seeing Sunflowers. The office in my grandparents’ Wyoming house had a copy of the painting. I wasn’t particularly amused by the one in Amsterdam because I had firmly believed the copy at my grandparents’ house was the original for so long. There were plenty of other paintings to amuse me, though. The museum displayed many other pieces from artists that inspired Van Gogh or at least had some sort of connection to the artist.
I enjoyed the depictions of Montmartre, other floral works, and a wall dedicated to paintings of worn out shoes. Van Gogh bought shoes from flea markets, destroyed them in the mud, and painted them. The museum had ways of drawing the audience into the exhibits. For the shoes, a pair of real, worn-out vans were on display. The wall reads, “How about your shoes? What kind of experiences have they had?”
The Dutch food tour started the next day at Firma Stroop for stroopwafels. I personally call stroopwafels “caramel cookie waffles.” I don’t really know where this came from, but I had never heard them called “stroopwafels” before this trip. Firma Stroop makes pancake size caramel cookie waffles, dips half of them in chocolate, and tops them with two toppings of your choice. Maddie and Baran both chose raspberries while I chose caramel and hazelnuts. Nothing can really go wrong with a caramel cookie waffle.
As we wandered the streets of Amsterdam, I kept my eye out for a pair of wooden clogs. Maddie, on the other hand, was determined to get a black tube top. If you know Maddie, you know how she feels about her black tube top. Maddie has the perfect black tube top, a staple that I also love to steal. Unfortunately, the item never made its way into her suitcase which meant she had to find a replacement as soon as possible.
We entered into &OtherStories with Maddie going straight for a promising rack while Baran and I eyed the shoe sale. A pair with an oddly clog-like toe caught our eye. We noticed that there were a lot of these peculiar flats on sale, and since I was craving a clog, this was the closest I could get to wearable. The first pairs of “clogs” were a little too pricey and fuzzy for me. As Baran and I returned to the front of the store, we found Maddie with no black tube top in hand.
H&M had one pair of flats with a clog-adjacent toe. They were black satin with a gold buckle. I told Baran if they were under 15€, I would get them. She flipped over the price tag and smiled. 13€. Aesthetically, I could do better. We arrived at the front of the store to find Maddie empty handed.
In Zara, Baran and I kneeled down by the racks to find an enjoyable clog that fit (enough.) A deep burgundy clog caught my eye. It was adorned with a double grommet silver buckle. I put them on and was generally satisfied with the fit. We made it to checkout, but once again, Maddie, with a straight-mouthed smile, stood holding no black tube top.
Our tiring search took up a lot of our energy. We went to Fabel Friet for their iconic fries to recover. The line was fast moving and the fries were very affordable. They come with a choice of cheese and a choice of sauce. Maddie and Baran chose parmesan and truffle mayo. I got cheddar, so we could all try both options, and curry ketchup. I knew that I would taste and probably finish Maddie and/or Baran’s fries at some point, so I wanted to give myself as much variety as I could.
Ending the night on a canal cruise was a great way to wrap up our day. Houseboats float on the sides of the canal, and as we floated down, families ate dinner and watched TV inside. We gawked at the beautiful buildings and the people in the windows. We talked about which one we’d live in. We watched as two boys sat talking on the window sill of a tall building. There were a few software company buildings here. We could make it work for a couple years.
I wore my clogs on the Wednesday after our weekend trip. They were slightly uncomfortable, but as a frequent wear-er of Dr. Martens, I could deal with the pain. I showed off my clogs to everyone I could. No, they’re not wooden. Yes, I did buy them in Amsterdam. No, they only hurt a little.
I returned to my room that night, took off my gorgeous clogs to reveal my sock half drenched in blood. All day, my toenail had been rubbing so much on my other toe due to my flats’ pointy tip that it bled… a lot. A nauseating amount. I was filled with stroopwafel and frites and things close enough to clogs were on my feet. Amsterdam, my favorite city so far, was a success.
