Like the floppy-haired, baggy-jeaned graduates that clustered around the legal smoking cafes that once peppered it, Amsterdam has smartened up and moved on.
Which for anyone who visited in their early 20s, like I did, is quite a revelation. Nestled a five-minute cab ride from the train station and a few streets away from Anne Frank’s house in the artsy Jordaan area, is Canal House, a 23-bedroom, neo-gothic townhouse hotel comprising of three 17th-century merchants’ houses. With its narrow hallways, gilt-edged mirrors and many staircases, it feels reassuringly Dutch, and yet, our room, conspicuous by its black lacquered walls, floor-to-ceiling, heavy velvet curtains and mosaic walk-in shower room, still felt suitably plush and far away from home.
The afternoon sky turned violet, so my friend and I grabbed a couple of hotel umbrellas and set out to explore the local area, with the vague sound of dance music in the distance. As we approached the canal, we were met with a huge gathering of pink-clad men, women, families and dogs. Of course, it was Gay Pride. Barges chugged under the bridge, people in wedding dresses dancing on each end. A local florist stood outside dousing the revellers in pink rose-petal confetti. People walked past exchanging smiles. Everyone was happy. And it was catching.
Visiting Amsterdam and not hiring bicycles is tantamount to sacrilege, so we nipped around the corner to a local hire shop. Following a simple route to Westerpark, we were met with a canal-side swell of local food and craft stalls, with a particular prowess in vintage jewellery (I picked up a vintage St Christopher’s necklace for £8.50). The sun snuck back out, so we cycled to the Bloemenmarkt, the world’s only floating flower market, where the spectrum of colour is a marvel.
If time allows, jump on a tram to the Van Gogh museum, which houses 700 of the post-Impressionist’s works. It’s worth the trip to Amsterdam alone.
Why it’s hot
There’s a pervading sense of urban cool in the Jordaan precinct – its inhabitants are young, bohemian creatives, decked out in pretty floral dresses and penny loafers. It makes sense; Amsterdam is a European mecca for vintage clothing. I left, my overnight bag stuffed with six new (well, old) dresses and a jacket. Also worth a look is Kabinet, on the Herenstraat, a minimalist space filled with handselected designer pieces, old and new, by a mother and son. By the second day, we’d popped in three times.
Eating and drinking
Both intimate and foreboding, the dining room at Canal House serves up modern European cuisine (think North-Sea plaice, guinea fowl and seafood salads) with fresh local produce, making it a new destination for non-hotel guests. We enjoyed a recommended bottle of sauvignon blanc from the extensive wine list, the conversation only halting to coo over the outstanding dressed-crab starter and warm pumpernickel bread.
After hours, Amsterdam caters to every cultural palate. We headed to a local indie night for old times’ sake, stopping off at a few bars on the way, where the locals, still exuberant from the Gay Pride celebrations, provided plenty of entertainment. Only once did we spot the obligatory stag do, a group of eight burly men clad in personalised acid-orange polo shirts.
Photo opportunity
Endless canals, pretty townhouses and tableaus of cutesy bohemian living make Amsterdam prime turf for would-be photographers. If you’re keen on graphics or street art, you’ll find a photo-worthy piece around every corner – we snapped several miniature Karl Lagerfeld murals around town.
Rooms at Canal House from £190 per night. Three-course set meal, £30; canalhouse.nl
