Meandering along with a map lands us to the front of Amsterdam’s Rijksmuseum. We eye the scaffolding and construction signs, and upon learning most of the museum is closed, we decide the special exhibit isn’t enough to tempt us inside. We opt, instead, to walk a few extra blocks to the Rembrandt House where the famous painter lived during his more prosperous days. From an upstairs’ studio, he painted and taught students of art. It turns out to be a worthwhile museum plus an intriguing restored period house.
We leave the house chasing a steeple we can sometimes see and sometimes can’t. We never catch up with it, but stumble on a bit of fun: A table of grown men dressed as Teletubbies celebrating at a bachelor party luncheon. Amsterdam is a friendly city where even if you can’t speak the language, you get a smile and a hug. I think the blue Teletubby is the groom to be.
We board a tram home, but when Bob admits he has no idea where we get off and has lost the map, I jump up and ask the driver which stop is closest to the Wyndham. His English isn’t good enough to give us directions, but at the word “Wyndham,” he raises two fingers and points behind us.
Good thing the rain has turned to sunshine.