Amster-DAYUM.

Almost to a person, every time I told someone that we were going to Amsterdam on our honeymoon, I got the following reaction: "What are you going to do there?"

The implication was obvious.

Many of my friends and family thought I was wasting a perfect opportunity to have a good time by visiting such a stereotypical "party city" with my relatively "tame" personality. Since I don't drink, smoke, or do recreational drugs, why would I choose the marijuana and legalized prostitution capital of the world as a honeymoon destination?

For me, the answer was simple. Have you seen pictures of the place? Have you read about the history? Does Anne Frank ring a bell? Plus, just because I choose not to partake in certain activities doesn't mean that I don't want to visit and experience them in my own personal way. Fortunately, we proved my point in spades on...

Day 7

Amsterdam, Netherlands

16,190 steps

Highlights: Rijksmuseum, Van Gosh Museum, Red Light District

Since we woke up to more drizzling rain, Wheat and I decided to fill our afternoon with a couple of the famous art museums in the city. In order to avoid the lines, we bought our tickets at our hotel and after a nice breakfast in the lobby (three cheers for Cocoa Puffs in foreign countries!), we set out for an enlightening day of art history.

Our first stop was the aforementioned Rijksmuseum, the prestigious resting place of works from all the Dutch masters. The four-story museum, which also includes a gorgeous, old library and a cafe, was a bit overwhelming for these art newbies. The most crowded area was the Gallery of Honour, a hallway filled with Dutch Golden Age paintings by Vermeer, Van Gogh, Jan Steen, Frans Hals, Rembrandt, and more. The crowds weren't a surprise since the hallway culminates in the museum's crown jewel, Rembrandt's Night Watch. We spent a couple hours admiring the artwork (my personal favorites were from Steen, the Dutch Norman Rockwell), reading about the famous pieces (like Vermeer's The Milkmaid), and generally feeling confused about the timeline of the works. 

Night Watch by Rembrandt

Above: The Jolly Household by Jan Steen // Below: Self Portrait by Vincent Van Gogh

Above: The Milkmaid by Johannes Vermeer // Below: Syndics of the Drapers' Guild by Rembrandt

To complicate matters further, the museum also boasts an incredible collection of other things, like massive dollhouses, teapots, replicas of battleships and planes, weapons, and Asian art. Like I said, it was overwhelming. We walked all around the museum, doing our best to read about the highlights in our guide book, before finally calling it quits. The garden outside, which was open to the public after the employee party, was absolutely gorgeous - well-manicured, whimsical, and interactive with fountains and a huge chess set. After playing around for a bit, we cursed the rain and stopped for a quick lunch under the shelter of an umbrella-covered picnic table.

The highlight of lunch was actually dessert when we split a stroopwafel, a Dutch treat made of two thin waffles with caramel syrup inside. It was delicious and the perfect, warm snack on a chilly, drizzly day. I'm still dreaming about these things...

With full bellies, we ambled through the Museumplein to the Van Gogh Museum. The line for tickets was ridiculously long, so we silently congratulated ourselves on the foresight to buy our tickets in advance. As I already said, I'm not a huge art buff, but I absolutely loved this museum and consider it a personal highlight of our entire trip. The layout was absolutely perfect for someone with very little knowledge of the artist and his works. It wound through his life in narrative style, starting with his childhood and ending with his troubling suicide, highlighting his artwork along the way. The museum also houses pieces from other famous artists that either influenced Van Gogh or were his peers at the time. It delved into his family relationships, his friendships, and his struggles with mental illness and ultimately painted an illuminating, cohesive picture of such a mysterious, yet talented artist. In contrast to the Rijksmuseum with its astounding breadth of artists, the Van Gogh Museum left me with such a deeper understanding of the man and his art. The museum doesn't allow pictures, but I would absolutely recommend it to anyone who visits Amsterdam, whether you like art or not.

At this point, our feet were killing us, so we limped back to our hotel lobby for some drinks and rest. Once we'd recuperated enough, we decided to venture to the Red Light District, another place where pictures are strictly prohibited, for some evening people-watching.

Somehow, the Red Light District was simultaneously exactly what I imagined and nothing like what I expected. Its reputation obviously precedes itself, so I knew to expect the scantily clad women in the windows advertising themselves to tourists on the street. However, I didn't expect that half of them would be standing there impatiently with cell phones in-hand, trying to pass the time until their next customer. Prostitution is state-sanctioned in Amsterdam and the sex workers have a union, lots of police protection, and rigid standards and testing they must pass on a regular basis. Still, it was jarring to watch men enter their little rooms, complete with beds and sinks in the back, as the curtain was drawn. 

The red lights, which basically set an intangible barrier around the surprisingly small area of sex shops, peep shows, and brothels, cast a hazy, somewhat seedy glow over the street and canal. Once the sun went down, it was very crowded on these streets, but never did I feel uncomfortable. Only one prostitute propositioned Wheat and she instantly stopped once she realized I was with him. In fact, there were even families with young children walking around. I imagine if we'd stayed later, it would have gotten creepy, but we chose not to overstay our welcome.

During our time in the area, we saw a massive condom shop (Statue of Liberty condom, anyone?), tons of coffeehouses, sex and marijuana museums, the Winston Hotel (where Quentin Tarantino supposedly locked himself up for three months to write Pulp Fiction in 1993), and more mouthwatering food vendors than I could count. I can't begin to imagine the killing they make in the wee hours of the morning. We saw Theatre Casa Rosso, the infamous live sex show on the strip, and temporary urinals that rise from beneath the ground at night and lower out of sight during daylight hours. Another jarring image - men openly using these urinals in front of passersby without a care in the world.

Once we'd walked the area a few times over (I'm telling you - it's surprisingly small), we stopped at a local pub for dinner and more Euro soccer drama as Wales upset Belgium, 3-1. From there, we made a stop at Dam Square, a lively square where tourists and locals alike meet for drinks and some fresh air. We admired the gorgeous Royal Palace, the former home of the Dutch royal family, before heading back to the Leidseplein. Before calling it a night, we spent some time soaking in the nightlife of the local bars and coffeehouses and laughing at a few more temporary street urinals.

Ultimately, I felt justified that even someone like me could come to this magnificent city and enjoy both its high culture and stereotypical pastimes in the same day.