Rembrandt Park

I found a park today!

It wasn't intentional. I was working on my secret mission. Today's bike trip took me down to a neighborhood called Baarsjes, which is quite a ways to the west of here. Good solid bike ride.

Amsterdam natives have a slight advantage over me on their bikes: they have faith that an irate motorist is not going to simply run them over. They plunge fearlessly into traffic on busy thoroughfairs, apparently unconcerned that a guy in a Mercedes might suddenly turn them into a pancake. Raised as I was on the mean streets of Jacksonville, I can't quite bring myself to share their faith. I can't bike down the center of what's basically a major highway without glacing over my shoulder a few times.

Regardless, I made it to Baarsjes okay. Either I'm getting better at this or this part of the city is easier to navigate. I mean, the usual rules still apply to city streets. I still don't understand why streets have to change names every couple of blocks. It's still the same street, you know? Just because it crossed a bridge doesn't fundamentally alter its character or direction. Anyway, I figured it out okay and blew through my five or six stops.

Baarsjes (pronounced barse-yes) is a neighborhood with a different character from Centrum, where I live. For one thing it's clearly newer. Instead of the skinny merchant houses you have five-or-six story blocks that look to be probably no older than a century. A much larger muslim population as well. At least there were a lot of women in headscarves walking around.

I had just hit the local Openbar Bibliotheek, as they call public libraries around here, and I was examining my map and I noticed a huge swath of green marked Rembrandt Park just a few blocks to the south. Since I had time to kill I decided to check it out.

Being in the park reminded me of a fall morning in Florida. It wasn't morning and it wasn't Florida, but it was cold and green and wet. Trails wind back and forth over an impressively long and wide piece of forested land. People were jogging and walking their dogs over the strangely aerodynamic bridges. The grass is slick and green. A slight breath of fog hangs over the ponds, and the trees grip the banks with their roots. Of course, it's not Florida: it's four in the afternoon and the dogs speak Dutch (woev!). And it's getting colder.

I biked back the way I came before too long. Which gave me more chances to enjoy local traffic, since the street going this way was under construction for much of the route. This meant instead of riding in a bike lane I got to ride on tram tracks. Fun! I only had a couple near death experiences. That guy on the scooter TOTALLY wasn't paying enough attention.

I know, I know, you want pictures. That's everyone's number one request. I'm working on it. None today though, sorry.