Van Gogh Means You Must Go!

(Editor: Wait, I thought “UNESCO means you must go!”  Blogger: It does, but the Iron Tourist believes in being flexible.  Besides, the headline re Van Gogh also works.)

I’m not sure why, but when I booked our Van Gogh Museum tickets, I also booked audio guides for the both of us.  We walked the 0.8 miles to the museum, reveling in both the post-Milan area cool temperature and the street scenes of Amsterdam.  

I wasn’t sure about the audio guide, but we agreed to do the Highlights Tour.  It was the right decision, as we saw the best of the Van Gogh Museum in about 90 minutes (the audio guide claims it’s a 45 minute tour, but that doesn’t include dealing with crowds, not being able to easily find the non-sequentially numbered highlights, and looking at other art that grabs your attention.

Of modest interest is that the narrator on the audio guide pronounced his name "Van Goff" instead of the Americanized "Van Gogh" that we are all familiar with.  Rather than confuse people by haughtily pronouncing it "Van Goff," I'm going to stick with the more familiar "Van Gogh."  Besides, saying "Van Goff means you must go" doesn't work at all.

Instead of starting at 1 and going to the last painting, the painting are numbered in a totally random order, meaning you are looking for exhibit 19, then exhibit 56, then exhibit 34, etc.  It made no sense.  Why not number from 1-200 (or so)?

Well, I suppose the museum authorities thought it more of a game than a struggle, but they would be wrong.

Anyhow, Van Gogh is quite the artist (Editor: Really going out on a limb there eh.  Blogger: I hear you!  Editor: Wait, that’s about him cutting off his left ear with a knife isn’t it?).  Rather than go into massive detail here about his paintings, his life, and his death, I’m going to show you the pictures I took of nearly all of the pictures on the Greatest Hits tour in the library.  

When I took the photos of the paintings, I had this fantasy that I would look up the names of all the paintings and add the name under each painting.  Then the reality of time intervened.

I Gotta Say, Renting A Canalboat As A Place To Stay Is Pretty Darn Cool

Leading up to the trip, I had booked a hotel for the first night in Amsterdam, and then of course the hotel in Stresa, Lake Maggiore for the five nights in Italy.

But, I had procrastinated on booking the last three nights in Amsterdam.  There was only about a week left before our trip when I remembered I had not done it.  So, I went on Booking.com to find an apartment.  There were only a multitude of hotels, which I was ready to resign myself to booking.  Some of the hotels were large canalboats, but they are had shared bathrooms.  Personally, I don’t like the idea of shared bathrooms, but I can assure you Carol HATES the idea.

However, I struck gold on VRBO.  I found a private Canalboat at 509 Jacob Von Leppenkade.  The canal is apparently the Jacob von Leppenkade, but I'm not sure that's right.  Here’s the link to Canalboat.  I really liked the idea of a Canalboat, and I was sold on this one by the patio.  I imagined us having our evening bottle of wine on Canal as other boats glided past.  We would wave or salute them with our wine glasses and they would do the same.

And, that’s exactly what happened.  And more. . .it was quite spacious, and about the same nightly price as the one-bedroom mid-range hotels popping up on Booking.com.  So, for the price of hotel room, we had our own Canalboat with a patio, a good sized-kitchen, a very large living room/dining room, a bathroom bigger than we expected, and a comfortable bedroom.  The WiFi worked better there than it did at our luxury hotel in Italy.

Carol made eggs and toast every morning for breakfast, and spek twice (a European bacon).  We had room in the small fridge for some beer, my sparkling water, and Carol’s regular water, along with some food.  We ate dinner there the first night, as Carol made tortellini in the kitchen.  We dined out on the patio.  It was magic.

The biggest concern with the Canalboat is that one time I would be locking the door as we were going out, fumble with the keys, and watch them sink into the Canal.  Like Ralphie, I definitely would have said “oh fudge.”  Fortunately my fear led me to keep a tight grip on the keys until I crossed the short wooden ramp and got on to land.

Amsterdam temperatures were mid-70s during the day and mid-50s at night, so we left the windows on the canal side open.  Early one morning we were both woken by a flock of ducks flying down the canal and squawking (we fell back asleep).  

The first night, after spending hours driving to Milan’s Malpensa Airport and waiting at the terminal, we stayed close to home.  After grocery shopping for simple, but important items such as sparkling water, cookies, eggs, bread, we went to “Grapedistrict,” our local wineshop, and picked up a few bottles of wine for imbibing on the Canalboat patio.

I had two conference calls, and then we went for a drink at Toussaint Café, a half block from where we were staying.  It came highly recommended by our host, and we immediately could see why.  We sat side by side at an outdoor corner table, watching the world go our little corner of it, enjoying a drink and an appetizer, and taking in the café scene in Amsterdam.  

The place was so perfect we made dinner reservations for 8:30 on Saturday night.  We then went back to the Canalboat, Carol made dinner, and we relaxed into the evening on our patio.  It was a perfect evening.

The Canalboat was a dream come true.  We will always remember our Canalboat fondly.  Highly, highly recommend!

What follows are more pictures of the Canalboat at 509 Jacob von Leppenkade than you ever expected.

Our canal view at dusk.

The bedroom

Entryway and hallway

Don't drop the key in the canal!

The kitchen

Living room.  Not shown:

The dining room part of it.

Carol making dinner.

Our patio.

The ducks were loud and have very cool feet.

View down our canal.

View up our canal.

View across our canal.

Our street, and maybe the canal name too.

From the bridge.  Our Canalboat

is the one just past the one with

the small white boat tied to it 

on the left.  Love all the trees.

That's the one.

Cool canal reflection.

Our Triumphal Return To Amsterdam

The only hiccup in our return to Milan airport for the return flight to Amsterdam was trying to find gas to fill up the car.  If a gas station had been central to the plot of “Deliverance,” we managed to find two potential filming locations.

We had driven 90% of the way to the airport before seeing our first gas station.  And it was from the early 1960s.  Finally, I just gave up and pulled out of the station.  With seven miles to go to the airport, we stopped in one from the 1950s with no indication of how to pay, who to pay, and how to pump.  They were both in the middle of the woods, so leaving was the better part of figuring it all out.

I was resigned to paying the skyhigh per liter rate at Avis when, with three miles to go, we came to a more modern station.  The attendant ran to our car as we pulled in, smartly filled up the VW, whipped out the credit card machine, touch the card, and go.

Returning the car in the Malpensa Airport (we had flown into xxxx Airport, clear on the other side of the city) was a bit tricky, as the Avis Rental Car return sign was hard to see.  However, one illegal swerve across oncoming lanes (no oncoming cars at that time!) and we were on our way into the terminal.  

Given how messed up European airports are this year (especially Heathrow in London and Schipol in Amsterdam) we took the “get there three hours early admonition seriously.”  With no bags to check however (all carry on).

We arrived back in Amsterdam and only had to wait a few minutes for our pre-booked taxi.  At 35 Euros, it was literally 40 Euros cheaper than the cab we had taken a week earlier.  Suffice it to say, I have to believe that the first cab took us for a ride, literally and figuratively!

Arriving at our Canalboat, we were met by the property manager, who gave us a quick tour, pointing things we needed to know, and left us to our own devices for the next three nights.

A Lunch Stop In Lago d'Orta

After the winery tour, we headed to Lago d’Orta, a much smaller lake than Maggiore.  On the other hand, it is also very picturesque, tucked in amongst mountains with views to the Alps in the north.

And, there’s an island and cute town, Orta San Guilio.  We parked at the top of the town, walking down to find a restaurant.  We weren’t there for anything by lunch and views, and that’s what we found.  The restaurant was the worst we ate at in Italy, but it still suited our purposes.  Pressed into a little courtyard between three buildings, it had no actual views of the lake or mountains, but we were famished, so we weren’t picky.

After lunch, we ambled down to the lakeside to admire the views, the town market, and the various comings and goings.

Carol wanted to do one more load of laundry in Stresa, so we hiked back up the hill to the car and headed out.

After some time working at the hotel, including a couple of Zoom calls, we went into Stresa, did laundry, wandered around people-watching, looking at shops, and picking out potential restaurants.  When we went back to our first choice at 8pm, we got nixed because we had no reservations.  We were able to be seated at our second choice, and the food was delicious.  After having toured the Travaglini Gattinara winery that morning, we shared another bottle of that.

Our time in Italy was coming to an end, but we had enough time to sit on our balcony at the Villa & Palazzo Aminta (It’s a villa AND palace all in one!) and marvel at the night views.

In the movie from the 1950s,

the church bells are pealing

loudly from the steeple.

Lago d'Orta, part of the town,

 and part of the island.

The island.

More mountains

surrounding Lago 

d'Orta.

Random Dinner Selfie

 

This selfie was overlooked at first, so it gets its own post.  That's it, that's the post!

Towering Views

As we were leaving the winery, our guide Silvana (I learned her name!), pointed to an ancient tower a top of the highest hill in the area and recommended visiting there.  

When Silvana said we would see the vineyards, from the hill, we decided we had to go.  There's also a chance of seeing the tall buildings of Milan as well.  

It wasn't a far drive, but negotiating our way along the tight switchback roads, Carol and I were hoping nobody would be coming down the hill.  Either side of the road was steep uphill, with the vineyards visible.  It was a short drive, but a very cool one.  

We got to the parking lot on top of the hill as the views opened around us.  There were no other cars there, but there were two groups picnicking, as well as a small chapel. The only bummer is that there was a high chain link keeping us from exploring the Torre (that's "tower" in Italian, as I show off my mad language skills).

(Editor: "Mad" is the right word to describe you, but just the wrong usage in this case.)

The Torre dates back to the 11th-century, with improvements dating from the 14th-century.  Old stuff is always interesting to us, but the views were the main course here.  Carol was able to pick out skyscrapers in Milan, off in the distance.  I used my camera zoom lens to confirm her sighting, but alas it was too hazy for anything to come out in a photo. 

Vineyard selfies are among the best selfies

To the north, there were spectacular views of the vineyards climbing up and down hills, with the distant Alps in the, um, distance.  (Editor: Great use of the Thesaurus!).  Milan lay to the southeast, with the village of Gattinari directly south of us.  It all made for a remarkable tableau.

Vineyards and mountains.

A celebration of the burgeoning

wine region of Gattinari.

This Torre is over 1,100 years old.

San Pietro Church and the village of Gattinara.

Italian flag a top the Torre.

The rolling hills of the vineyard.