Cafes on the wharf

Pedaling against the raging gales of Amsterdam Noord can make one ravenous. I was a little worried about finding a ready meal out in an area that seems mostly like industrial wasteland. 

Fortunately, there's Cafe Noorderlicht ("northern lights") on the NDSM-Werf, just a skip-and-a-hop from thrifting havens Van Dijk en Ko and the IJ-Hallen flea market.

The food is simple (soups, salads, sandwiches) and the look is cobbled-together industrial. The most important thing is the abundance of light and warmth.

The vibe is great, though—casual, indie and totally laid back. It's also a good place to ogle hipsters. I thought I could pass amongst them in my hipster attire of skinny jeans, mixed prints (cats and stripes) and bright red kisser. But no, my simple girl pearl earrings betrayed me! Hipster FAIL.

Aside from Noorderlicht, one can also refuel after (or fuel up before) a day of thrifting at the IJ-Kantine, right on the wharf.

Again, it's pretty basic (as with most Dutch cafes) with its offering of soups, salads and sandwiches. The interiors are industrial-inspired as well.

It's a good place to keep warm and grab a quick coffee while waiting for the ferry back to Centraal Station.

On the way back to the city center, you can't miss the submarine moored in the wharf. I wonder what its story is and why it's there.

I like the vibe in this part of Amsterdam Noord, and how the ferry ride makes coming here feel like a mini-break from the city. I'm looking forward to seeing what it's like in the summer... if we even have a summer, that is!

Amsterdam's biggest flea market

I love me some old things, so I was delighted when one of my friends suggested a girls' day out at the the IJ-Hallen flea market in Amsterdam Noord. 

Held in a huge warehouse in the old shipyards of the NDSM-Werf (or wharf), it has over 500 stalls selling second-hand items, making it the largest flea market in Amsterdam. The IJ-Hallen flea market is held on the first weekend of every month and costs €4 to get in. Sometimes, they will have a second market day focusing on certain kinds of goods; this March, it's toys, miniatures, dolls and dollhouses. 

The IJ-Hallen is not nearly as atmospheric as, say, Les Puces de St-Ouen in Paris, but it has its own unique vibe being in a huge industrial complex where ships were once built.

Click "read more" for the full IJ-Hallen thrifting experience, plus our finds for the day!

Marni for H&M madness

If you're interested in fashion, you will know that the Marni for H&M collection hit stores today. I've never been the type to camp out for hours for any kind of retail launch (like the iPhone launches in Singapore), but I did have my eye on a few cute things from the collection. So I thought I would pop by the big H&M store on Dam Square at lunchtime, after my Thursday morning sewing class. 

Standing there with other, equally disbelieving female shoppers, I learned how to say "That's it?!" in half a dozen different languages. We all circled these two racks like confuzzled chickens until it finally sunk in: This was it. 

Van Dijk & Ko

Be prepared for a slew of thrifting posts from me over the next few days. I'm obsessed with finding a desk for my soon-to-be home office, and since I'm on a budget, checking out second-hand sources has been my top priority. One (rare) sunny Saturday morning, my search for the perfect second-hand desk led me across the river IJ (pronounced "eye") to Amsterdam Noord, which is 14 minutes by ferry from Centraal Station.

Amsterdam Noord is still largely industrial, but it's considered an "up-and-coming" (i.e. increasingly livable, secretly hip) neighborhood. With wide roads, little greenery and a surfeit of warehouses, it feels like a different planet from the rest of Amsterdam. 

It's also a killer bike ride, because nothing cuts the wind, which (on the day we were there, at least) is inescapable and so very strong. I felt like 20-pound weights were hanging from my handlebars. 

But my fietsje (little bike) and I forged ahead anyway. I say "little," because my trusty baby blue cruiser who came all the way from Singapore is microscopic by Dutch standards. I feel like I get strange looks whenever I'm out biking; I've seen 11 year-olds riding bigger bikes than mine.

In contrast, Marlon, who bikes to work everyday, has a proper Dutch bike. They call it an oma fiets (granny bike). It's higher, so you can fully extend your legs while biking and prevent damage to your knees. I don't bike often enough to care about that stuff, although I should.

Anyway, there was a good reason for the killer bike ride: to explore the 2,500 square-meter second-hand wonderland known as Van Dijk en Ko.

Step inside, after the jump!

Schaatsen op de grachten

... or in English, skating on the canals. Yay!

Just as winter doesn't automatically translate to snow, it also doesn't necessarily mean ice. In Amsterdam, where winters are relatively milder, ice is a rare thing. There's too much moisture in the air here (I know, humid pa pala sa lagay na 'to) and the city is warmer than the countryside. Smaller canals and ponds outside the city freeze faster, but the canals in Amsterdam are a different animal altogether. 

So when the mercury (and the snow) began to fall, you could feel excitement rising in the air, prickling and spiking with every degree that dropped below zero. The city was literally abuzz with one question: "Are the canals going to freeze?" 

Freeze they did. This has led to my discovery of the one other thing, apart from summer, that creates happiness for the Dutch on a national level. And that is... the ice.  

Heading out to the canals was like seeing a Dutch painting come to life. I was particularly reminded of the Hendrick Avercamp winterscape displayed in the Rijksmuseum. 

Winter Landscape with Ice Skaters, image via Wikipedia

I've also discovered why ice drives the Dutch bonkers. Simply put, ice = skating. In Amsterdam, it means skating with a UNESCO World Heritage Site as your backdrop. The last time the canals were any good for ice skating was 15 years ago; some parts haven't been skated on since the 1970s. This winter, the city closed some of the locks, or gates, to help the canals freeze over faster. 

When Megamall opened its ice skating rink in the 90s, I was there on the very first day. So how could I possibly miss out on this?

Photo courtesy of Michelle

Join me on the ice, after the cut!

First snow

Thanks to my obsessive monitoring of the weather reports (which are always accurate here), I was prepared for a cold snap this week—temperatures ranging from -15℃ to -1℃. It would be the first time this winter that temperatures dipped below zero. This meant that yes, it would be freezing, but we could also have snow and go ice skating on the canals.

On Monday morning, I woke up to this.

Nope, it wasn't snow yet... only frost that had formed overnight. A teaser of things to come, this scratchy thin layer of ice soon melted away.

Today, it finally happened. As soon as the snow began to fall, a little before lunchtime, I went crazy monkey giddy. I was glued to the windows shrieking "Let's go! Let's go!" like a banshee on crack, forcing Marlon to call it an early lunch so we could get dressed and go out into the fast-falling whiteness. When we stepped out into our street, I learned the difference between frost and real snow.

 

The air outside felt completely different, not the normal heavy cold of the Dutch winter. It changed us into kids again. As you can tell, Marlon was really happy to be working from home today.

The street was completely deserted but for the two of us and a woman sprinkling salt on the road. We must have looked like lunatics to the neighbors. We couldn't help it... it was our first real snow!

Click on through to enjoy this snowy day with us!

Welkom Sinterklaas!

Santa who? In the Netherlands, this season is all about Sinterklaas. Forget December 25th. Here, the day for gift-giving is the 5th of December, because that's when Sinterklaas—Sint Nikolaas, or Saint Nicholas—comes to bring gifts to good children. 

In mid-November, Sinterklaas arrives in town via steamboat from Spain (!) and is welcomed with a huge parade. Public transport in the center of Amsterdam shuts down as what seems like every child in Amsterdam (and their parents) flock to the streets to welcome their beloved Sinterklaas. 

Tradition dictates that on the evening of Sinterklaas' arrival, children must put a shoe in front of the fireplace with a carrot or hay as a treat for Sinterklaas' white horse. The next morning, they'll find a present in their shoes from Sinterklaas.

Here comes the man himself... after the jump!

Date night

One of the things I loved about summer was the fact that the days seemed to never end. The sun would set as late as 10 p.m., and you would get lovely "late afternoon" light like this at 7 or 8 p.m. 

These days, the sun sets earlier each day. The photo above was taken a little before 6 p.m. The sun disappears from the sky by around 6:30.

But you know what? Part of me actually welcomes the return of night.

I only realized that when Marlon and I went out to for dinner and a movie one Friday night. It was a nice change, because we don't eat out as much as we used to. Dining out here tends to be expensive, which is never a guarantee that it's going to be good. We also tend to stay home a lot to save up for, or recover from, travels.

We went to Rainarai, an Algerian resto on the Prinsengracht bordering the Jordaan.

The atmosphere of this small corner restaurant is eclectic and laid-back, with quirky details like these schoolhouse chairs with African motifs drawn on them.

Service is turo-turo style. As Marlon and I were talking about how it reminded us of home, the girl behind the counter asked us if we were Filipino. Turned out she had visited the Philippines while backpacking around Southeast Asia. She said that of all the places she had visited on her six-month trip, her favorite by far was the Cordilleras: Banaue, Batad, Benguet and Sagada. Wow. To think I've never been to those places myself.

We ate dinner by candlelight while watching the sunset reflected on the windows of the canal houses. And that was when I realized I actually missed nightfall.



While walking to the movie theater, we passed the fairgrounds set up in front of the Royal Palace on Dam Square. We looked at the Ferris wheel and thought: "Hey, this is something we've never done together!" So we did.

We had lots of time to spare before the movie, so instead of having dessert or lounging around in the cinema lobby, we decided to take a walk. It turned out to be a wonderful idea. Because we don't very often go out in the evenings, I still find myself so surprised and delighted by how magical Amsterdam can become at night.

We strolled around the narrow streets and canals in the Centrum, or old center. When I think of the old center, I think red light district and coffee shops, so I rarely go there except to take visitors to see it. Otherwise, sex and weed is not a big draw for me. 

But night can blot out all that, and it takes on a different character. Shadows soften and hide, and night lights flatter a city's face.

A darkened shop window turns into a mystery that beckons us to take a closer look. 

The play of light and shadow can make almost anything lovely, almost poetic. In the daytime, would we have stopped to look? 

Getting the boot

Have you ever realized you had a completely blank schedule on a beautiful, sunny Saturday and thought to yourself: "Omigod! It's absolutely perfect! Today is the day! We can finally get the boot!" 

Probably not. But that's because you didn't know that boot is the Dutch word for boat!

In this city of canals, one of the most popular weekend pastimes is boating. With large cushions and blankets lining the deck, wine glasses in hand, in their preppy-chic Ralph Lauren/Tommy Hilfiger-type sailing getups (on cloudy days) or shirtless (on sunny days), a fluffy dog or two peeking out from the prow, the Dutch are experts in taking cozy chic to the canals. And yes, many of them actually own their own boats. I've seen so many happy Dutchies on boats since spring that I've developed an entirely new form of envy... boat envy. 

I've actually had a standing reservation at Mokumboot, a boat rental company two blocks from my house, since April. Weather had been so uncooperative, especially through our crappy rainy summer, that I feared I would never get to use it. Whenever I had the odd sunny day in my sights, boats would get fully booked up a week in advance.

But September gave us a stunning gift: a rare, two-week stretch of blissful sunshine and good vibes. So on one glorious Sunday morning, the planets aligned. And we could finally, finally get the damn boot.

Marlon and I showed up at the Mokumboot dock at 11 in the morning to pick up our boat. I actually got us out of the driveway, so to speak before handing the wheel to my college friend Jec. She moved here with her boyfriend KD for work, and I'm lucky to have a Pinay friend I already know pretty well!

Steering is not as easy as the Dutchies make it look. You need to keep the steering wheel going pretty much continuously, constantly going back and forth between left and right, to keep the boat going in a straight line. Also, being an electric boat as opposed to a gas-fueled boat, our top speed was pretty pathetic. But it was all good. We were all just ridiculously excited to finally be on a boat!



Jec's boyfriend KD took over as captain of the ship for the first half of our four-hour boat ride. Marlon got started chilling the wine...



... while I unpacked our picnic basket, filled with snacks for grazing: chips, cheese, olives, bread and a highly addictive truffle tapenade from the Albert Cuypmarkt.

I also served up a vegetarian lunch of fusilli with roasted broccoli and walnuts.

We set off from the Olympic quarter, which is our neighborhood, in the direction of Amsterdam's famous canal belt. Along the way, autumn waved its cheery greeting from the apartments of the Old South.

Passing the Rijksmuseum, or the national museum, was a signpost telling us to expect very busy waters up ahead. 

 

As soon as we hit the busy Leidseplein area, huge tourist boats started coming at us from every direction. Boat police patrol these busier waterways in the center of town.

It's not unlike being a student driver and finding yourself on the South Super Highway-Sucat interchange for the first time. Except everything moves much more slowly, you have no idea how people will signal for turns, and collisions with large vessels will be documented by the sound of fifty cameras clicking. Chalk that last bit up to experience.

Having run the stressful gauntlet that was Leidseplein, our entry into the famous Grachtengordel, or canal belt, was rewarded with some postcard views... like this one along Prinsengracht. The Anne Frank House lies just behind Westerkerk, on the right.

Sailing along all four major canals that encircle Amsterdam's old center—Singel, Herengracht, Keizersgracht, and Prinsengracht—is something that pretty much all tourist boats do on the standard canal tour. But many of them won't bother into the smaller canals intersecting these major waterways—which, shaded with trees and lined with cafes, have a quiet charm that made all of us breathe more deeply and contentedly.

Heading even further away from tourist territory, we took our little boat into the tiny canals of the Jordaan. Formerly home to Amsterdam's working-class immigrants, this neighborhood is now one of the hippest (and most expensive) places to live in the city. Its narrow canals are off-limits to the big tourist boats.

And as we came up to this alarmingly low bridge, we all realized why.

Marlon turned off the engine. Drifting ever so slowly toward the bridge gave the four of us time to ponder a short list of possible fates, which consisted of a) getting stuck, and b) sailing clean through.

"We're going to get stuck!" cried Jec. "No, I think we'll make it," I objected, discreetly grabbing my phone and tapping out the first few digits of the Mokumboot helpline... just in case I was wrong.

Drawn to our obvious (and by now, rather loud) distress, an old man in a battered coat tottered up to the bridge. "Geen problem," he said with an amused grin and a vaguely encouraging wave of his hand. "No problem!"

"O, no problem daw sabi ni lolo! He must know what he's talking about, right? He's Dutch!" I said.

Asserting the ultimate faith in the innate goodness of humankind, Marlon switched the engine back on to its lowest setting. Which left nothing else for us to do but plaster ourselves to the floor of the boat and laugh like hyenas on crack.

It was the longest minute of my Amsterdam life.

As we emerged, laughing hysterically, nerves shredded but boat and bumbunans intact, lolo waving cheerfully from the bridge, I knew we had just made another awesome Amsterdam memory.

We sure could have used one of these, though!

Apart from our hilarious/harrowing encounter with the bridge, plus an unexpected stretch of large choppy waves on the Overtoomse Sluis, it was smooth sailing all the way home. 

Water seems to be the Dutch element. They seem happier, warmer, more relaxed and more gracious in their boats. People in passing boats will joke with each other, like this dad who played at throwing his squealing toddler over to us. Naturally, we pretended to prepare to catch the little boy. Everyone smiles and waves at each other, sharing good vibes in passing. 

We might not share the confidence or adeptness with which this boat-loving culture navigates the waters. That can only come from a relationship with the water that begins from childhood, and is woven into the very history of a people.



But the sunshine sparkling on the water, the sound of the water lapping gently against the boat, the calming stillness in in its movement—these are available to all.

So though we are not adept in the intricacies of boat and water, we can partake in their pleasures... even just for a little while.