Victoria's Voyage

The queue for the Van Gogh Museum this morning was pretty streamlined considering it’s the home of some of the best ever works from this Dutch icon, the museum itself perfectly set up for a seamless experience. I first headed to the lockers with my bag. These were fully digital and very secure, only opening automatically once a unique code is keyed in on a nearby machine, rather than having their own locks and keys. After this I was free to head upstairs to begin the exhibition. And wow, what a collection!

The tour takes you through Vincent’s entire artistic life. I was surprised to learn how short-lived his mere 10-year career in art really was before he eventually shot himself in 1890. He started out aged 27 by first practising through drawing and then further studying and honing his craft. He believed drawing was ‘the root of everything’ for an artist, and starting here certainly served him well judging by the quality of his later works. The drawings displayed in the museum are on constant rotation due to their delicate nature, so there are many more in existence than those you can view during your visit.

All in all this experience, put simply, was magnificent. For anyone who enjoys impressionist art and exploring the depths of human emotion, it is an absolute must. Other notable artists on display that particularly stood out to me were Henry Somm and Van Gogh’s own friend and inspiration, Paul Gauguin.

I also learned a lot about Vincent’s personal life, through information boards beside the paintings and audio translations of a number of letters exchanged between him and his brother and sister-in-law. What was clear to me was that the brothers had a deep love and respect for each other, and that their story was one of much turbulence.

But the absolute crowning glory was – of course – Van Gogh’s very own ‘Sunflowers’. I was fortunate enough to reach this most famous of his paintings whilst it was relatively quiet and – with those few other spectators around me – was able to stand for a few moments in silent and peaceful appreciation of seeing such an iconic, original piece of artwork in real life, taking in every textured brushstroke. That was probably the most special moment of my entire visit.

Main exhibition complete, I had some more time to kill before my next stop, which led me into the museum’s current temporary exhibition – the work of Anselm Kiefer. I was not familiar with this man’s work before this visit, but O.M.G. The moment you enter the gallery space, “BAM!” A floor to ceiling piece utilising the most awe-inspiring abundance of materials and textures I think I’ve ever seen in his own interpretation of Van Gogh’s ‘Starry Night’, which I sadly couldn’t see due its location in New York.

Next up was Moco, and this one sadly divided me. The obvious pro was the funky, bright, meaningful artwork on display from the likes of artists such as Banksy and new-to-me, Frankey, whose work was especially playful. The interactive and immersion displays downstairs were also super cool, especially given the illusion of more, almost infinite space created by the many mirrored walls.

This, however, is where my positives sadly must end. Van Gogh was busy, but at least we had large galleries to meander through. Moco was anything but. Imagine inviting hundreds of people into your own house and expecting them to stop in every room and you have Moco Amsterdam. The congestion was suffocating. Of course, you go into these things expecting crowds; you yourself are part of that problem. But it’s a different story when those crowds have to cram into tiny rooms, narrow landings and barely-wide-enough-for-two staircases.

A lunch stop of a chicken sandwich in a smallish Irish pub later (partly due to hunger, mostly due to relentless rain!), I zipped up my jacket, tightened my hood and set off towards the market for my first afternoon stop – a workshop all about the celebration of a sweet Dutch classic – the syrupy stroopwafel. This workshop was easy to find and very accessible to participate in, no matter your existing skill level (or lack thereof). My session was led by a cheery woman called Tanya, who clearly talked us through every step and was circulating throughout to give a helping hand. She certified me, so I can’t have done too badly under her instruction!

By the time I was finished, the rain had begun to ease just a little – and my next stop was a relatively short walk. Club Bon Ton is one of the city’s more upmarket strip clubs, where I had the privilege of taking a tour with insider insights by one of the dancers who works there. She introduced herself as simply Tracey. And she was very beautiful.

First, Tracey chatted to us in the main dancing room/bar area about the stigma of sex work and how things aren’t always as they seem. For example, because sex work is legal here, it is generally very safe for the women offering their services, and this particular club is female-owned and installed with security and panic buttons. What’s more, the police will also always have the girls’ backs, as will their fellow colleagues. What the girls do is also at their discretion, based upon the vibe they get off the client, meaning essentially, they are in control. More services means more earning potential, but at least this way no one feels uncomfortable and both parties can enjoy any experiences they do have. She spoke very honestly and frankly about all elements of the job in the most casual way, and she did seem to genuinely enjoy what she does. The tour itself allowed us entry into the dressing room and a few private rooms for after the exotic dancing and champagne, which felt weird as I knew that within mere hours the club would be fully functioning, business as usual.

And then, last but not least, I got to have a little go on one of the poles upstairs! Spoiler alert, I wasn’t very good, but it still made for a fun photo op regardless.

By the time I got back to the hostel I was completely exhausted and soaking wet from the day’s constant rain tippling, but soon re-energized along to an excellent live band and a few cheeky pick-me-up drinks back home at Belushis.