The joke about running a hotel began a couple of years back in Singapore. Being so close to Manila and a regional hub for flights, Singapore was a frequent destination for a long list of friends, whom we happily hosted in our spare bedroom. It was Pauline who dubbed our one-bedroom "hotel" Palazzo Plazo, and the name has stuck.
After our "soft opening" and first official guest this spring, Palazzo Plazo Amsterdam got busy. Mom came over after our Oslo jaunt in May, and Jon and Gutsy arrived within days of each other in June.
Al fresco dining on Palazzo Plazo's charming terrace
There's something about Amsterdam that makes all my guests so chillax. Not once did we make it out of the house before lunch time! Luckily, the days have gotten so long that my visitors and I got to do and see so much even with our late starts.
While I've had far more than my fair share of visits to the Holy Trinity of Amsterdam tourism (the Anne Frank House, Van Gogh Museum and Rijksmuseum), I'm happy that I got to do a little something different with each guest. There's really so much to still do and discover in this city!
Mom was pretty low-key. She was content to stay home and share my domestic diva lifestyle. She also spent a lot of time bonding with Rogue.
In Singapore, she absolutely abhorred walking. But this time, the cool weather in early spring made a huge difference. It was a lot easier to plan her itinerary this time around because she didn't mind walking. So much of Amsterdam's charm lies in these leisurely strolls in the canal district.
I also got to try my first rijsttafel ("rice table") at one of Amsterdam's numerous Indonesian restaurants while Mom was here. A rijsttafel is basically a meal that consists of rice served with a large-ish number of small side dishes (the usual satay, rendang and so on), which seems to be an entirely Indo-Dutch colonial hybrid; I've never had it at any Indonesian restaurant in Southeast Asia.
We also rented a car one Saturday to drive out to the Zaanse Schans, an open-air museum about twenty minutes from Amsterdam. Truth be told, I found it a little too touristy for my taste, but I think it was just Mom's speed... and made for some pretty pictures.
The best part of the Zaanse Schans for me was getting to see a functioning windmill from the inside. It's pretty amazing what people will think up to get out of having to work so damn hard.
On the way home, we decided to do a big detour and drive along the Afluitsdijk, a feat of Dutch engineering. It's a 32-km causeway that dams part of the North Sea and turns it into the Ijsselmeer lake; salt water on one side of the highway and fresh water on the other.
With Jonathan, the agenda was completely different and can be summed up in one word: boys. Haha! So our first stop on a scorching Saturday was the Vondelpark, where everyone and his mother/girlfriend/barkada/boyfriend goes to take off his shirt and soak up the (rare) sunshine. While shirtless hunks were in attendance, so were bikini-clad babes.
Still, Amsterdam did not disappoint
Boys aside, we also meandered through narrow side streets...
... and along the canals, which never fail to amaze me.
Jon's visit was a cause for many firsts, such as our first barbecue on the balcony... which also became the last due to a prompt scolding by our upstairs neighbor. We took it to the pavement outside our building, in true third world style.
It was also my first time to hang out at Leidseplein, a big square in the center of town that every single tourist in Amsterdam seems to naturally gravitate to. I really don't get it: they just stand around there like huge flocks of sheep. It's a convenient (but certainly not the best) location to sit down for a drink, but other than that I don't know what's so great about Leidseplein.
Jon's interest in the social sciences led us to the Oosterpark...
... to visit the Tropenmuseum, one of Europe's leading ethnographic museums. It houses exhibits about non-Western cultures, and includes an excellently curated exhibit about the Netherlands' own colonial history.
The biggest surprise about the Tropenmuseum was also the most admirable: it very matter-of-factly stated that the Dutch colonial history was very deeply linked with slavery. No whitewashing (pun not intended), no sugarcoating: the simple facts of slavery and how it contributed to the Dutch golden age laid out for every foreign visitor, every schoolchild to see... and learn from.
An old drawing of slaves packed into a Dutch galley for trading
Just a day after Jon left, Gutsy arrived for a weekend. I wish we had had more time together! Still, we managed to pack in a decent amount of meandering...
... with a visit to Anne Frank...
... and even the Homomonument nearby.
Sunday brunch was at the lovely Cafe Belhamel on the Brouwersgracht, with its gleaming green walls and Art Deco interiors...
... followed by another Amsterdam tourist staple, a first for us: the canal cruise.
We surrendered most of Sunday to a fog of kabangagan that can most adequately be summed up in this photograph.
Let's just say we were extra happy... because Gutsy was in town! Right Guts? Yay!
It's been weeks since our guests have checked out, and I miss them already. While playing hostess was tiring, it sure was tons of fun. And I hope playing tourist in this town never gets old.
So, who's next?
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