Arrival in Amsterdam

     When approaching Amsterdam, The Netherlands, I adjusted my watch seven hours into the future to be on local time. It went from breakfast to dinner in 30 seconds. The plane was a little late, but we had seven hours in Amsterdam. I wanted to leave the airport and go into town. Jay was afraid , but I convinced him it was important to me, we had plenty of time and that people speak English. We found a locker for our carry-ons, found the trains to city center, patted our pockets to check on passports and wallets, then proceeded what felt like asking directions every 20 feet. Jay would ask, then turn to me for interpretation. He cant understand any English that is not American. Put that together with his lousy hearing aids!  We asked a canal boat operator for directions to the Anne Frank museum as soon as we left the train station. It was a fifteen minute walk. We got to walk the brick streets, passing shops in Amsterdam city center. It was so beautiful. The buildings were old brick structures. Most of them were very narrow and four to five stories high and connected to the buildings on either sides. Each was different and obviously separate. Each had its own top floor and roof treatment. Each was occupied all the way to the highest windows. We passed three canals running through the center of each street. Each side had one-way traffic, a bike lane, and a sidewalk. There were more cyclists than cars. Old(er) ladies were just as agile on bikes as children on theirs. The sidewalks were made of bricks, were about two and a half feet wide, and were immediately butted up against public and private doorways. There were NO entryways. People sat on chairs on the sidewalk. Parked bicycles  were everywhere. Every block had at least one pub with tables and chairs set up on wider portions of sidewalk. What we would consider an alley were actually named streets with more shops and residences.
     At the fourth canal we came across the line of people waiting to see Anne Frank Huis (house). We chatted with a man and his wife from Spain (in broken Spanish/English) for about 10 minutes as we approached the house. It was just another narrow, three-story building in the middle of the block. We paid 6.50 euros each entry fee and then were free to walk from the lower business part to the very top hiding place. All the spoken recordings and written signs were in Dutch and English. There was no furniture. The building was one room wide by two rooms deep by four stories high. Mr Frank was in the pectin business, he put it in his partner´s name to protect in from the anti-Jews.
     The floors were wide wooden planks, about 8 inch wide, painted or stained black/brown. Each room on the lower floors had big windows open to the outside. Further up VERY steep narrow steps in a narrow staircase were the hiding rooms. These windows were covered with thick black window covers that blocked out all light. It was quite dark and made the small rooms feel even smaller. These rooms may have been ten feet square. The next stairway was even steeper and the steps only 6-8 inches deep. I had to go up sideways, using the handrail for support. The first room had many of the pictures/postcards/movie star photos that Anne Frank put up to make it more cheerful. They were protected by clear plactic boxes. The kitchen was the size of a larger bathroom. Peter´s room was 6 by 8 feet with a ladder-like stairway into the center. It was so TINY! There was a little closet that held a very pretty toilet. It had blue flowers and vines painted on it. The sink and mirror were just outside the closet. Everything was soooo small!! All those people, all those years! And someone told the Germans about them just before the end of the war. It is important to keep these types of places available for people to see.
     We had a Ben and Jerry´s ice cream at the snack bar then began the walk back to the train station. Jay was really in pain and my hips had had enough. The ride back by train was short - but not enough to rest as much as we needed. We made our way back through two train stations, to the airport check-in (show passports and boarding passes), collected our carry-ons, then Jay couldnt walk any further. He wanted a ride to the gate (D06G). We were directed to a transportation kiosk where it took talking to three people to get what we needed. One thought we wanted a ride into town and said it would be expensive.  After about 10 minutes waiting, were called to the cart that had been parked just 20 feet away. The driver was so kind. She took us to where we had to go downstairs, went with us down the elevator, through the gate check (had to empty her pockets, get frisked, etc), then took us exactly to the waiting area. I gave her my Country magazine, and made Jay give her a tip. Everyone we approached for assistance was very gracious and helpful. It is sometimes hard to understand their English, though. I bought a small orange bag to hold my wallet. It cost 9.90 euros. From Gate D06G, we boarded a bus that took us out on the runway (five minutes´drive!). We climbed the stairs up into the small plane. The business section had six seats. There were two seats on either side. We slept most of the hour's flight to Liverpool, England.