“I dream of painting and then I  paint my dream”.
Vincent Van Gogh

“Spring is late this year, the crowds should be fine”, replied the lady at the travel desk. She was right, it was the middle of March and the mercury fluctuated between 0 and 2 C.  The week we were here, the sun had graced us for barely for an hour each day.  It had even snowed a day before, but I was not convinced. After all, this was the shrine of the master of masters, the one who painted his dreams. 

The plan was to be at the gates well before 9 am. I was up early and came out into the open to check the weather. It was a chilly one degree as per the paper, but the wind made it feel like minus five. Back in the room, after final thoughts on the extra layering, we were ready.

Decided to  save time by skipping the elaborate sit in breakfast at the hotel and hopped onto a tram to Rembrandtplein where we picked up a sandwich and boarded a tram in the opposite direction.

A short ride later we were at Waterlooplein. People who have visited the master would shout out, “Hey buddy, you are headed the wrong direction”. Yes we are, and for a reason. The period we visited the  Van Gogh Musuem, which otherwise is located in Museumplein was down for renovation. The Hermitage, another Amsterdam landmark had stepped in to help. They were showcasing 75 important paintings, combined with letters, drawings and objects which turned out to be quite adequate for a first time visitor like me.

Following the map, we had a quiet walk from the tram stop, halting on the way for a few snaps. Across a draw bridge we could see the Hermitage.

We had made it well before time, so we finished  our coffee and sandwich, marveling at the Amstel which flows beside it.

A few taxi’s stopped by dropping off fellow tourists, it was time to get in. The cave like entrance opened up to this empty courtyard, bulk of it comprising of a  garden, a couple of trees and flowers that were praying for sunshine. 

The red brick exterior reminded me so much of my school back in New Delhi.  We found a sign for the last step of the Van Gogh Mile, which we really wanted to do but opted out considering the weather and the short time we had on our hands.

It is a self guided walking tour, you download the app  on your phone and use it to hear historic snippets  between the Museumplein venue to the Hermitage.

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We enjoyed the brief serenity of the courtyard and ventured inside into the main complex. There were only four people in the queue before us, great luck. Payment done, with tickets in our hand we proceeded to get our audio guide.

Approaching the main enclosure we saw a big sign which said, “no photography”, so we decided to trim down our belongings and shunt the camera’s and the bags in the 1 euro lockers.

There was another exhibit running titled, “Peter the Great“, the Russian Tzar in the same museum. Peter, under the pseudonym Pyotr Mikhailov had spent some of his formative years in the Netherlands observing how the shipbuilding and windmill industries at Zaandam operated.

My partner gave her audio guide one last check.

And I snapped one last picture before the security gate.

A good two and half hours later we emerged back from the shrine, visuals of the master’s broad strokes, simplicity, and color lingering in our minds. We made our way to the first floor bistro for some lunch.

After resting our tired feet we attempted the next exhibit of “Peter the Great”, which will feature in a forthcoming photo comic.

This second exhibit was more descriptive,  with loads of information for history lovers. We returned back to the atrium where a band was in full swing, we found a cosy bench to rest and to enjoy their performance.

The last stop was the book shop, where we picked a few prints from the masters Japonaiserie series. Walking out, we glanced at the  desolate garden courtyard which we had entered from a few hours earlier. This confirmed my suspicion, there are always hoards of people waiting to visit the great master whether it be spring or not.