Our last day in Amsterdam started off with another pleasant breakfast served up by our host and another engaging conversation with the other guest whom we will call Agent R. We learned during our conversation that he actually works for the FBI. Kat had nailed it when she'd told me that he had struck her as maybe a government or military employee after the last time we'd talked with him. He admitted that it wasn't all action packed heroics and that he had to deal with lots of desk work and mindless bureaucracy, like flying home to DC from Frankfurt in order to take a seminar on overseas travel. It really was a fascinating and delightful experience.
After checkout we still had lots of time before our flight that evening and we didn't want to carry our big bags around all day so we headed to the train station to find some lockers. We were able to get to them once we bought our ticket to the airport which got us entry to baggage area. Once our luggage was stowed we left, but not before grabbing a hot drink. The hotchocspoons were tempting but this time we opted for good old Starbucks which was on the balcony overlooking the main station entryway.
With lots of time still to burn I looked at our map and decided we hadn't checked out the Southeast part of town yet so I pointed us in that direction. We passed by Nieuwmarkt again and continued on to the Rembrandt house. Just around the corner from that was supposed to be a flea market along Waterloopleinmarkt, but it was sadly empty on a Sunday. If only we had pressed onward on Saturday we could have visited it. There was however a store named "4 Cats" on the same block which delighted us both. It was also closed.
From there we crossed Nieuwharengracht and wandered through Wertheim Park. We took a moment to reflect at the Auschwitzmonument, a simple series of shattered mirrors facing the sky. The Southeast neighborhood is home to Amsterdam's Jewish community and has the largest synagogue. Then we looped back around and stopped at Cafe de Sluyswacht for one last beer, a cheese sandwich, and an excellent view of the canals and Montelbaanstoren, a tower which used to be part of the old city wall.
We were back at the train station by 2pm, picked up our bags, and got on our train. We were pretty sure we were on the right train this time as it started filling up quickly with tourists loaded down with roller bags. Just as the train was about to leave a family with four young kids in tow came running and shoving onto the already packed train car. They crowded around the pole we were standing by and the youngest child began unwrapping and shoveling candy into his mouth, dropping his spent wrappers and garbage onto Kat's bags all the while. What is it was children, why do they always have to be so sticky and gross?
The train arrived at Schiphol airport with plenty of time to spare until our flight. We got to our gate without issue and had a nice long wait. I spent the time reading up on Copenhagen in yet another Rick Steves guidebook. The flight was a short one, lasting just over an hour, but everyone seated around us seemed to be ill which made us very paranoid since we didn't want to catch something ourselves. The young woman next to me (we were in a three-seat-wide row) was wiping and blowing her nose constantly so I didn't want to touch anything she would pass me from the aisle when they were doing drink service, and the guy behind Kat coughed and sneezed and she said she felt it on her neck. We both went to the toilet and washed up as soon as we landed.
After disinfecting ourselves we grabbed some train tickets and took the short ride into Copenhagen's main station. We must have looked confused once we got off the train because a nice Danish woman offered us some directions almost immediately. I was surprised at the lack of security since we never had to show our tickets or pass through any turnstiles along the way. We eventually found an actual bank ATM out on the streetside where I was able to get some local currency and then we went in search of our hotel.
The weather was chillier than Amsterdam but still not as bad as Reykjavik. We noticed immediately that there were far fewer bikes as well and we didn't feel like we were constantly in danger of being run down. Despite having some trouble with my phone not connecting to the network here we found the Nebo Hotel which was nearby the train station and got checked in. The room is suitable, but I was disappointed it did not have a drying rack for our laundry.
It was getting late and we needed some dinner so we set right back out again. We got directions to our restaurant of choice, in the trendy meatpacking district, which took us through Copenhagen's red light district, which consists of one well lit street lined by some nude bars and a few sex shops, but nothing too shocking especially after having experienced Amsterdam.
Our first choice for dinner, BioMio, turned out to be uncharacteristically closed. We had made plans to visit our friend Danish friend Rikke, whom we had met at Czocha College of Wizardry a couple years back and who had come to stay with us for a few days while she was vacationing on the West coast. She recently mentioned to Kat via text that the Danish Price Consort, Henrik, had died and that we might experience some unexpected closures and schedule disruptions during our visit due to it. We figured this must just be one of those things so we headed to our second choice in the same district, Mother, which served up fancy personal pizzas. They were good, but we both agreed that La Perla in Amsterdam was better.
Rikke messaged Kat during dinner and let her know that Tivoli Gardens, the local amusement park, would actually be open this week. This was good news because we were prepared for it to be closed during the off-season. All the way back to our room from dinner Kat was bouncing with excitement.
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