Yesterday our taxi driver/carer of the elderly was telling us about all the closed streets in town because of the marathon that was on.
We didn’t see anyone running, nor did it effect the route to our hotel, but last night on our way back to our room after our post dinner cocktail we walked toward a woman who was clearly struggling. She was visibly in pain and holding onto the walls to keep her upright. As we got closer I thought she may collapse and asked if she was ok… she laughed (as much as her worn out body could muster) and said she’d just run the marathon.
I’m not sure what time the marathon finished, but this was about 8.30pm… I wonder if the organisers had already packed up and gone home when she got to the end?
Regardless of your time, I see you lady. I feel you. I’ve been here before… in fact this pic could be of me (not after a marathon, I’ll just add, but definitely half way up Mount Coot-Tha in Brisbane)
This is not my pic nor is it of me or of the lady we came across in the hotel. However, she was moving so slow I would’ve had time to get my camera out and she would never have been able to chase me, but instead, we left her with her dignity… what was left of it.
Back to today…
Today was all about meeting Anne Frank. Her house is just up the street/canal a bit.
There is a little statue of Anne in the church square just around the corner from her house.
This was our view walking up the street…
Are you seeing those cars? Brilliant!
We had to do a little lining up, but not much. Here’s a tip for first timers, you must prebook your tickets. They release tickets a month before, so you have to be ready because they sell out almost immediately. They say it takes about 2 hours to walk through. It took us just over one and we saw and heard everything and note to anyone with mobility issues – there are some steep stairs.
We didn’t know if Me Jenny was going to be able to make it through the one way circuit, but she was determined to see the house this time. The last time we were here we missed out due a small clerical error (hey! we all make mistakes) so she soldiered on up one step at a time, with me behind her – one shoulder on a butt cheek.
You are not allowed to take photos in the Anne Frank Huis, so here’s a sneak peak into the layout of the building and the secret annex at the back.
Walking around the tiny rooms makes you realise how unthinkably difficult and frightening it would have been to have been hidden for 2 years in that small space. Not being able to make a sound during the day for fear of being heard. No flushing the toilet, no running water, no walking from room to room. Minimal fresh air and the only gazing out a window was in the top attic where you could only see the church spires. Surviving only on what food could be brought to you in secret.
Anne lived through that and in spite of it all, still stayed positive and dreamed of one day following her dreams of being a journalist or a famous writer… little did she know.
Exhausted… almost like we’d run a marathon, we went next door to the pancake place to try some proffertjes (little baby dutch pancakes). A small reward, if you will, for climbing all the stairs.
They were delicious, even if we did feel a bit sick after.
Then Me Jenny needed a little tiny lay down (because – stairs) so we headed back to the hotel for a Nanna Nap.
These buildings are across the road from out hotel – they were built in 1733! They are on a slight lean.
And the building next to that had this picture at the top. I feel this man in his pantaloons and his jaunty stance is saying “Hello, anda welcome to my rooftop” in like an Borat sort of voice.
The hotel has a few gardens in the centre which make it all very pretty. We walked past this plant and Me Jenny said that it looked like a Mary Juana plant, but then on closer inspection said “oh no, the leaves aren’t the same”… um, excuse me – how do you know?
Then while Me Jen napped, I watched the world go by.
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