Paris & Amsterdam Trip 2012 Day 3: From Paris to Amsterdam

Day 1 and Day 2 of the adventure can be found here and here.

The following morning we packed our bags and checked out of the hotel. We took the Metro to Anvers in Montmartre.

The place was heaving with tourists, backpackers, and traders. Traffic was zooming about everywhere. Our confidence of the previous night evaporated as we walked about in bewilderment, first searching for the Sacre Couer to orientate ourselves, and then looking for somewhere to buy some breakfast.

Eventually we found a small but inviting patisserie nestled amidst the madness. As we were both loaded up with bags we decided it was best if only one of us went into the shop, and as the one with the better French I had to step up to the challenge. My husband's only request was that I got him the creamiest, most ludicrous looking pastry I could find. The array of sweet treats in the patisserie was dazzling, and much of it looked excessively creamy. I was spoilt for choice. Eventually my eyes settled on a chocolate eclair, which I deemed good enough for me, and then I spotted the perfect pastry for my husband - a large choux bun with a smaller one on top of it, covered in chocolate sauce, purporting to be a religieuse. I ordered these in my broken French, along with two coffees, and then proceeded out of the shop clutching the two little cardboard cups, several sachets of sugar (the woman behind the counter obviously thought we must have a sweet tooth), and the paper bag containing our breakfast, my heavy rucksack wobbling on my back, my camera swinging around my neck. I couldn't have looked any more touristy if I'd tried! Well, maybe I could have worn a 'Paris' baseball cap on my head, but thankfully that's not my style!

My husband was delighted at the sight of the religieuse, and was even more pleased when he bit into it and rich chocolate cream oozed out of the middle. My eclair was equally tasty. I'm amazed we didn't spend the rest of the day with chocolate smeared all round our faces. Perhaps the rain washed it all off, for as on the previous days, the miserable drizzle continued to linger.

We considered taking the vernacular railway up to the Sacre Couer, but the queues were long and we hadn't bought Metro tickets that would cover the cost, so we chose to walk up the stairs of the Rue Foyatier. It was hard work with our luggage, but I suppose it was a good way to burn off those cream calories!

The Sacre Couer sits at the highest point in Paris. On a clear day the view must be fantastic, but fog once again sat like a veil over the city and we were unable to drink in much at that point in time, so we turned our attention to the basilica itself.

Like Notre Dame on the previous day, there were tourists absolutely everywhere, although there was much less of a queue to get in. There was also a bit more space to move around inside. There was a mass taking place, which you could join, or otherwise you were free to wander around as long as you didn't take photos or make noise. Of course we respected this, but I did see some excellent photo opportunities that I was disappointed that we had to miss. The art and architecture were simply breathtaking. The fact there was a mass taking place added to the very peaceful and solemn atmosphere. There was some beautiful singing, and I felt my mind instantly ease from the busyness of the city outside. It was also less stressful to wander around than Notre Dame had been as people were much less tightly packed together.

For a few euros you can buy a joint ticket to go up the tower and into the crypt, or just an individual ticket for one or the other. Although we would have loved to have seen the view from the tower, considering both the limited visibility outside and the weight of our bags, we thought it best not to go clambering up spiral stairs and instead opted just to go inside the crypt. This was even more tranquil, especially in the inner chapel, as very few tourists seemed to bother with this element.

Once we were back in the outside world, the fog had cleared enough for us to admire the view. The top of the Eiffel Tower was still hidden, and you couldn't see as far as you can on a clear day (I assume), but we stayed for several minutes gazing at the hundreds of rooftops, and pointing out famous landmarks that we recognised. It seemed to a fine way to finish off our stay in the city.

We then made our way towards the Gare du Nord for our journey north-east, stopping in a boulangerie to buy a couple of scrumptious filled baguettes for our lunch.

Before long we were settling into our comfortable red and purple seats on the Thalys train to Amsterdam. We spent the journey doing puzzles, practising snippets of Dutch from the phrase book we had, looking up places to go in our Lonely Planet guide, and admiring the view as the train zipped through the French countryside and on into Belgium where the sun was shining brightly. I inwardly shook my fist at it for its marked absence in Paris.

It was twilight by the time our train pulled into Amsterdam Centraal, but the sun had clearly been shining all day in Holland too. I hoped it would stay, at least for the next day. Although you don't really need good weather on a city break I have to admit that I was growing desperate for a little sunshine!

Stepping out of the station onto the cobbled pavement, people milling here and there, trams rumbling past, we both felt a little more relaxed. Amsterdam was definitely busy but it just seemed less frantic and more chilled than Paris had been.

We took a tram to the Southern Canal Ring in search of our hotel, which thankfully was very easy to find down a quiet side street off of Vijzelgracht. We walked up to the desk where we were met by a friendly woman. I took a deep breath and said, "Ik heb een reservatie," to which she replied in an explosion of Dutch, grinning broadly. I mumbled my name, hoping that's what she had asked for, and then I started to laugh and quickly explained that I actually knew very little Dutch. She laughed too and immediately switched to impeccable English. Amsterdam is often referred to as a bilingual city, so we knew that speaking in English wouldn't be a problem, but as with attempting to speak French in Paris, we wanted to have a go at Dutch in Amsterdam! We would later discover that if you spoke a bit of Dutch the assumption would be that you could speak a lot of Dutch, which led to some interesting conversations in restaurants!

Our room was on the top floor. It was lovely and spacious, set in the eaves of the roof, with a shuttered dormer window. The decor was an array of bright greens, purples, and pinks, and the inviting large double bed was covered in soft white linen with little sweets on each pillow. The room in Paris had been adequate for our needs, but we were both pleased to now be staying somewhere that felt a little more vibrant and luxurious - and it was the same price for three nights that the room in Paris had been for two nights!

We unpacked and freshened up before heading to the nearby Utrechtestraat in search of one of the Lonely Planet Guide's recommended Indonesian restaurants, Tujuh Maret, where we were lucky enough to nab a table as another couple were leaving. We went for the rijstaffel - 'rice table' or Indonesian Banquet. A selection of tiny bowls was laid out across two food warmers, with the dishes organised in order of hotness. We started eating at the milder end, making our way to the hottest, by which time our taste buds had become accustomed to more spice! There was also lots of rice and some delicious side dishes that unfortunately I can't remember the names of. The meal was very tasty. We'd never tried Indonesian cuisine before but were eager to as Indonesian restaurants to the Dutch are what Indian restaurants are to the British! It was also another type of cuisine for my husband to tick off of his foodie list!

After dinner we took a slow walk back to our hotel via the canals. The arches of the bridges were lit up beautifully, and whilst my husband stopped to take some fancy photography I lent on one of the railings breathing in the still night air, and watching as a barge sailed past. This was relaxation. Paris had been great, but I had a feeling that I was going to like Amsterdam that little bit more.

Photo my own.