Amsterdam #3 -and on to Paris!

As we left the Cafe Scheltema, with both gustatory and ... ummm ... celebrity needs sated, Cindy and I wandered toward Begijnhof, a special little enclave that has been a women-only residence since the 14th century--initially religious women who took a vow of chastity. I have no idea if the women who live there now are required to abstain from anything (including men), but it is just a most wonderful space, and it still has a small chapel and an English Reformed church. We stepped into the church, and what did we hear but the sweet sound of a choir singing--right there in the middle of the afternoon!

And here's the kicker: the chorus was from University of Nevada Las Vegas. A good-sized group, clearly made up of not just university singers but also members of the community. As you can tell, they sounded great. (Be sure to un-mute the volume to listen; there's no image on this.)

So that was our second serendipitous experience that day. Here's the common of Begijnhof:

I guess I didn't get much of the common here, but she's a pretty wonderful representative of the original residents.

And this creature watches over the women...

After this, we strolled over to Ons' Lieve Heer op Solder (Our Dear Lord in the Attic), which is a full-blown Catholic Church in the attic of an otherwise regular wealthy merchant's house and business. When Catholicism was banned in the Netherlands, a number of people set up their own hidden Catholic churches in their homes. This was one of the more elegant ones, I presume.

Taken from two balconies of the main level of the church. This had everything, including rather palatial living quarters for the priest.

The green faux marble pillar to the left is actually a very clever folding lectern. It's quite impressive.

And from there...we made our way to the Centraal station to catch a ferry to our last planned Amsterdam event. This is a good time to show you a couple of pics of that station, which is even more impressive on the outside than on the inside (see "Skipping Stones," published June 9).

Note that those aren't clocks on this tower. They're compasses, very handy for figuring out which way to turn the map you're holding for orientation. The other main tower has the clocks.

I love this winged critter up here on the roof. It must signify fast travel in the time this place was built in 1889.

So the ferries connecting North Amsterdam with the rest of the city run every five minutes, are free, and take about five minutes to cross. They are used by thousands of passengers daily. We actually felt as if a couple thousand were crowded into the ferry we took...with their bicycles, motorcycles, luggage, briefcases, etc.

Cindy did get a picture of other bicycles parked on the northern side:

Just a very small representation.

We went to the northern side to go to the A'Dam lookout, which sits high above the city. It's part of a blossoming area that includes the EYE Filmmuseum and Tolhuistuin, I was reminded of Treasure Island; it looked as if it was mostly new construction of housing and arts businesses and schools, etc.

Anyway, the A'Dam lookout is a thing, a happening, something to do especially as a tourist. So up we went; even the elevator is part of the experience with a light show. At the lookout, one floor is enclosed with a huge bar complete with a DJ, and a restaurant. Up one more level and you're outside in the elements with an unbeatable view of the city. They also have a huge swing that takes you out above the city. Not for the faint of heart.

Cindy and I had a fabulous time on the lower, enclosed level with our drinks and fries-with-mayonnaise. Because it was our last night, we splurged with two drinks.

A completely different view of the Centraal from the lookout:

We went back to our place, happy to have enjoyed Amsterdam so much and sorry to leave so soon.

But we still had one last surprising sight, not quite in the serendipitous category, but perhaps the most appropriate end to a day that started with Anne Frank (and included two hidden attics for two very different reasons). As we were walking in our "home" neighborhood, I happened to notice something different about some of the paving stones. Here's what we saw:

You'll likely have to enlarge the image a bit to read each tile, but these honor four Jewish family members taken away to the death camps during WWII. It really brought back the reality of what Europe went through not so long ago. We must begin to pay closer attention.

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Just to try to move things along... We're off to Paris at this point in the narrative (now about a week and a half (more? I'm losing track) behind where we really are).

We took a pretty early train to Paris on the morning of June 9--one last time at the Centraal station, with one more little beautiful architectural detail to share:

I love reporting when our train rides are uneventful. This one was. It was an express train directly to Paris, and we arrived there at 1300. We managed to navigate our way to the correct Metro line, cramming our suitcases into the trains along with hundreds of people. Our Metro stop for our lodging was right near Notre Dame, so one of our first sights was of that major reconstruction job.

That's just one of many cranes clustered around the cathedral. The wall that surrounds the site has details of what has been done to ensure that the building is reconstructed in keeping with its original construction.

On to our new home at 17 Rue Le Regrattier on Ile St.-Louis, which seemed full of enticing cafes. We dropped our luggage here after climbing four flights of stairs that were a bit of a challenge, to say the least:

These were steep, narrow, deteriorating --but of course totally charming. And even though it's billed as being on the third floor, we had four flights to climb because the ground floor is not the first floor. Good thing they were charming.

Now off to enjoy our first French meal at a little cafe a couple of blocks from our apartment. Notice Cindy's rosy cheeks...

We were headed to the famous Pere Lachaise Cemetery to visit a few famous people--if we could find them. The climate of course had changed with our move southward so we were suddenly feeling overdressed. But we pressed on with our first Paris walk.

Recording our presence at Place de Bastille

And some of the graves we managed to find:

Michele LeGrand and Macha Meril

Simone Signoret and Yves Montand--someone keeps this well tended.

Oscar Wilde--and this grave gets a LOT of attention, clearly:

Balzac!

Georges Bizet

And an unknown over-the -top site (so many of these);

By the time we found Bizet's grave, Cindy was visibly flagging and needing to go back to our place. I did my best to navigate without the help of my copilot. When we got back to our little aerie, Cindy dropped into bed and slept for 12 hours straight. Uh-oh.

Yep, the next morning Cindy tested for Covid and it was emphatically positive. She started her prescription of Paxlovid immediately.

This made us rethink my bad cold. I had tested twice for Covid, and both had come back negative. But some of Cindy's early symptoms were very much like mine. It's possible I was one of those weird people who never test positive.

Anyway, Cindy started her Paxlovid and she felt better right away. Given the circumstances, she and I simply masked up and continued our schedule, limiting our talking--and definitely not singing. That was a different tack than we might have chosen at home, but she felt the case was mild enough to keep to our schedule. (Ten days later, Cindy is doing just fine and I haven't developed anything. We both tested a couple of days ago, and the test results were happily negative. )

And this is where I leave you tonight.