Ambassade Hotel
Amsterdam
The Netherlands

"Warm, confident, quiet and beautiful--I could marry the hotel!"
John le Carré

Mr. Schopman, Ambassade's owner, is a collector. He collects houses, Wedgewood china, antiques, and authors. Novelist John le Carré is part of Mr. Schopman's collection; he always stays at the Ambassade when in Amsterdam promoting his latest thriller. Most book-touring authors do. It’s a tradition. It started back in the '50s, when Mr. Schopman working with Mr. van der Velden (Ambassade's original owner) had just restored their first canal house; it was one of Amsterdam's few attractive and reasonably priced hotels so their cronies in the English publishing houses began to lodge their touring authors there. Now, nearly all book-touring authors stay at the Ambassade and each signs a book for Mr. Schopman, which is how his book collection reached nearly 700 signed volumes. Most authors pen a bon mot for the VIP guest book as well, which is where I got the quotes for this story.

Mr. Schopman's collection of houses (which in turn house the books, the china, the authors and the guests) is also thriving in the form of an expanded Ambassade Hotel. Ten 17th and 18th-century houses built on Amsterdam's old canals—eight on the Herengracht and two on the Singel—was the count when I was there last spring. A labyrinth of passageways weaves 52 rooms and 6 suites into a warren of notable collections, affable people, and amicable rooms.

"Through the red-carpet maze to the breakfast egg, up the late-night stairs to the comfortable bed, a view out of the window to the Gentleman's Canal, the final departure into yellow leaf-fall."
E. Annie Proulx

High ceilings, an art-filled long hall, two elevators and a winding staircase led me to my suite under the eaves. Lofty cathedral-like ceilings quickly banished any notions of dark and cold garret rooms. Once a burger's office and perhaps a spice warehouse, it made me imagine a trace of cinnamon in the air. Those were the days when the Dutch East India Company was the most powerful trading company in the world. It's schooners raced to Amsterdam from Asia and the Pacific with the tea, spices, porcelain and textiles to fuel Amsterdam's Golden Age—the art, the great buildings and even the canal themselves.

My micro-cathedral living room had windows with leaded glass and double doors which opened above the Singel canal. As with most canal houses, merchandise unable to clear the narrow stairs was hoisted through those doors. The wooden arm for the crane is still in place outside just above them.

For me, those doors were the perfect spot from which to scan the Singel scene. Narrow gabled houses in spice colors—mustard, nutmeg and paprika—were bejeweled by the newborn leaves of canal-side trees. It looked like Seurat had just dotted past with a palette of new spring-green. This many-hued pointillistic scene became Monet-like when reflected in the canal's gentle ripples. The narrow cobbled streets were home to more bicycles than autos, and more dinghies than tour boats plied the canal. One bright yellow wooden-shoe boat was berthed nearby: a parody, no doubt of the tourist board's Holland.

Turning to the inside of my room, high white walls were supported by wooden joists painted glossy green. Antique and reproduction furniture was festooned with Louis XVI curves and gilt. The orange and red Rembrandt tulips I bought by the dozens (at about one dollar a dozen who could resist?) were absolutely roguish against the peacock blue carpet and saffron-colored brocade drapes and velvet couch.

My quiet bedroom faced the interior courtyard. Wallpapered with bucolic landscapes of noble ladies and gentlemen, it featured a king-size bed and loads of windows. The large and cheery white-tiled bathroom offered both a soaking tub and separate shower.

Downstairs, Mr. Schopman's Wedgewood collection adorned the Ambassade's elegant sitting room. A venerable grandfather clock chimed the hour as I admired the rare tea cups. Through a grand doorway, the Ambassade's sunny breakfast room beckoned. The breakfast buffet, worthy of a Dutch still-life, included sweet pastries and flaky croissants, fruits—poached and fresh—Dutch cheeses, ham, and eggs cooked to order.

"To be thoroughly lazy is a tough job, but somebody has to do it. Industrious people built industry. Lazy people build civilization."
Kazuaki Tanahashi, contemporary Japanese author on Zen

Tanahashi must have just returned from the Ambassade's next door sister service, Koan Float. Here one climbs into a chamber that looks like the trunk of an old Desoto halfway filled with body-temperature saltwater, and floats away tensions, jet lag and general crankiness. A more prosaic massage was also available.

Located right in the middle of the Grachten Gordle, the 17th century canal girdle around old Amsterdam, Ambassade's immediate neighborhood had a bounty of excellent rambles. I meandered up and down, across and around the canals and side streets. I studied the fabulous step, neck and spout gables, admired the houseboats with their gardens, browsed antique shops, sniffed through flower markets and braked for pastries.

When I returned to my Ambassade home where I was welcomed by a friendly staff and a spot of tea, I knew I had also become a part of another of Mr. Schopman's collections: his devoted guests.

"With many thanks for a wonderful stay"
Salmon Rushdie

"Once again, another Beautiful, Cultured, Inspiring visit to your heart-warming place."
Peter Sellers

"Ditto"
Kate Crawford          March 2001

LINKS WITH ATTITUDE

Here is the Ambassade’s own web site.

The official Netherlands Board of Tourism site is nicely done with current information.

This focuses on Amsterdam’s heritage particularly the architecture.

This is the Time Out guide site and is good for restaurants and ‘what’s happening’.