City vs City: London, Paris, Amsterdam
European travel is a luxury that most New Yorkers are never afforded. But why would they want it, right? NYC is the greatest city in the world, and once you’ve lived the best…
As an American, traveling to Europe is a humbling experience. My sisters and I drank in a pub that was older than the establishment of our country as the USA. Cities such as London and Paris have defined the term “historical” as we know it. New York (originally New Amsterdam, as we were later reminded by our Dutch friends) is a newborn baby in comparison. We may never sleep, as they say, but that’s because we haven’t yet been worn out by the big wide world. We’re still wet behind the ears.
Earlier this month, my sisters and I took a trip through London, Paris, and Amsterdam to culture ourselves with food, sights, public transportation, language, tradition, etc. And since I’ve already waxed poetic about the majesty that truly old, world-worn cities can boast, I instead want to take a moment to explore the little things about each city that are sure to stick with me.
Disclaimer: this blog post nowhere near reflects the entirety of our experience, but it’s a start.
Five years ago, I spent several months living in London and vowed that I would one day live there again. That’s still the plan. But instead, this month I got another little dose of the city, which reminds me of New York in certain ways. For one, whereas in NYC you can’t walk a block without running into a Starbucks, London has Pret. One can never get lost in a city when the comfort of a familiar cup of coffee is just around each corner.
London has its Times Square in Piccadilly Circus, its own Soho (which we stole, of course), and a world-famous subway system that consistently pisses off its locals (though I’d argue that we have it much, much worse on this side of the pond).
Aside from driving on the wrong side of the road, however, there is one main thing about London that sets it apart. Crosswalks. Or lack thereof. Not only are there very few places where pedestrians get the right-of-way when crossing a busy road, but when a green walk sign does have the courtesy to appear, it often lasts all of three seconds. Better run! Pedestrian crossings are also not at the proper corner of the sidewalk (or pavement, excuse me). Crossings appear in the middle of the block, completely irrational and distant from the next. In NYC, they sit at the corners where they belong. Londoners have embraced their jaywalking culture, but the electric bikers didn’t quite get the memo. Bottom line is, if you visit, look both ways and then look both ways and then look both ways. And finally, cross at your own risk.
From London, we took the train through the Chunnel (English Chanel + tunnel) to Paris.
In Paris, despite some of the busiest intersections lacking lanes in the road (looking at you, free-for-all traffic circle surrounding the Arc de Triomphe), we were allowed a bit more time to cross the street, so merci beaucoup for that. Some of the French people we interacted with lived up to the stereotype of looking down on us because we couldn’t speak their language. But mostly people were fine.
I think a truly notable and wonderful thing about the city (and others in France, since Nice did this as well), is that the cafes set up the chairs to watch the streets, not your dining partner. The emphasis on people-watching is lovely, and really stresses the French preference for having no agenda other than to finish that cup of coffee or glass of wine.
One other thing I will say about Paris: if I lived there, I would surely weigh over two-hundred pounds. Instead of a Starbucks or Pret on each corner, there is a bakery serving fresh bread, pastries, and thick hot cocoa. I’ve never seen so many ways to use laminated dough. Though we only spent three days together, Paris left me with a food baby.
From Paris we took the train to Amsterdam. (Side note: the US needs to figure out how to capitalize on rail travel as Europe has. It’s so pleasant.)
Amsterdam might be a city, but it sounds like a suburb. That is, it sounds like almost nothing at all. The utter quiet in this city was almost eerie, especially when we were walking through main squares on a weekend and could clearly hear conversations a hundred yards away. Perhaps it’s the weed keeping everyone mellow. But more likely, it’s the lack of cars. There are roads, sure, but there are hardly any cars driving down them. Instead, Amsterdam boasts more bikes than it does permanent residents, leaving the city without the honking and smog that plagues NYC. Luckily we were staying above a busy square, so I was lulled to sleep by the cacophony I was used to.
We then took our final train of the trip, a longer journey back to London. If we could’ve taken a train back to New York, we would have.
It’s always a treat to experience another country’s culture, but after ten days away from home, Julia and I were ready to leave Katie to her studies and get back to the sights, sounds, and smells we were used to. The “Bagels Cafe” in Amsterdam had left much to be desired.
But each of these cities is truly spectacular in its own way. If you ever plan on hitting the road (and first the sky), I am happy to provide a list of things to do. However, we averaged walking over ten miles a day—down Tottenham Court Road, through the Avenue des Champs-Élyssés, and along Lindengracht—so decide what kind of traveler you are before you come calling.
Until then, ta ta; au revoir; ot ziens! Wow, Dutch is a weird language. But they make great fries.