Anne Frank House

How do you even begin to find the words to describe the Anne Frank House? I don’t think you can — words can’t capture the still present, raw, visceral emotions that emanate throughout Annex. The Anne Frank House isn’t something that can be described, it has to be felt. Be experienced. But, I will try my best.

It’s shocking, walking through, to realize how small the space really was. A tiny space that housed eight for a little over two years. One searches their mind to try and understand how these eight managed it. Living on top of each other, silent during the day, cut off (mostly) from the outside world. It’s overwhelming to think what the Franks, Van Pels, and Mr. Pfeffer went through.

Walking through Anne’s room, pictures of her beloved movie stars still adorn the walls — you can almost see her putting them up. It doesn’t feel as though the intervening years have happened — it very much feels, on some level, like they were just escorted away. But, that is the point after all, isn’t it? Without that visceral feeling, like they just left, it’s easy to remove the emotion and think ‘logically’ about the past. But keeping the emotion, the human connection, alive is how we remember, the past and ensure it doesn’t happen again.

Amsterdam For Breakfast? Why Not!

Amsterdam has long been near the top of my ever fluctuating travel bucket list. For whatever reason, I just haven’t made it to the city —though have flown through the airport a number of times. On this most recent layover, my cousin — who is traveling with me and another companion to other parts of Europe — thought it would be fun to go into the city for breakfast. Given the time of our arrival into Schiphol and our departure to our next destination, factoring in customs and going back through security, we’d literally have 2 hours in Amsterdam for breakfast and the briefest walking tour along the canals. Would it be worth the hassle to go in for such a short amount of time? Yes. Unequivocally yes.

A quick ride on the train right to the city center and a short walk later — probably no more than 45 minutes after stepping off the plane — I find myself sitting at a pancake place right in the heart of the city. The waffle place my cousin wanted to hit up was closed. But we really aren’t upset. For breakfast, the three of us over order, causing the sever to express her concern about the amount of food.

Deciding “our fat American butts” can handle the food — we go for it. Dutch pancakes with strawberries, a traditional Stroopwaffel, a pancake with fried eggs and bacon, and a chicken pesto pancake. Plus oreo macchiatos, espresso, some cokes and a beer for good measure. I should also mention here that the pancakes are the size of a medium pizza. We dig in but it doesn’t take long before we get full — I think we were able to eat about half to two-thirds of the savory-sweet treats. It’s all delicious but very clearly too much for three people. In a desperate need to work off breakfast, we decide to go searching for those classic canal shots and maybe see the red light district during the day.

It doesn’t take long to find the canals and take some cliched, but beautiful nonetheless, shots. It just so happens to be a perfect day for pictures. Following the canals, we walk through the red light district which provides endless giggles while we read the names of the shops and museums. It’s not long before we are heading back to the train station to return to Schiphol airport and continue on. It seems like such a shame to spend so little time in this beautiful city — especially on a near perfect day — but alas our adventure continues.

If anything the brief foray into the city served as a nice tease into what a real trip could be. Going to have to make a proper trip sooner rather than later.