My dad’s side of the family is pure Dutch and came from the villages of Garsthizen and Eppenhuizen in the Province of Groningen and the adjacent province of Vriesland. Have fun with the names.

Naturally, I had to take a trip to Amsterdam to get in touch with my heritage.

The two main languages are Dutch and English. Everyone speaks fluent English because no one else in the world cares to learn Dutch. Apparently, I look like a native Netherlander because everyone spoke to me in Dutch or would ask me for directions. Once they found out I was American, the first question they would ask is where my family came from. The second question would be who I voted for. I was taken aback at how much the Europeans knew about American politics.

The hostel I stayed at had mixed rooms, allowing me to talk to a range of people. I talked to travelers from Ireland, Australia, New York, and other parts of the Netherlands. It was fun. The staff was friendly and gave me lots of free fries because my fondness for Heinz ketchup amused them.

Unfortunately, the first half of my trip I went to places where pictures weren’t allowed like the van Gogh museum and Museum of Tortures. Then during the second half an error occurred in my memory card and I couldn’t take any more pictures. You’ll have to deal with text descriptions for the most part.