Amsterdam. Its reputation certainly precedes it. To be perfectly frank, I wasn’t all that excited about our journey to the sex and drug capital of Europe (or is that Prague?). First of all, I had just arrived back home from Italy very very late on Tuesday night, and we left for Amsterdam in the afternoon on Thursday less than 40 hours later. Since Edinbugh, I really only had had 2 days in London and most of that time was spent writing papers! Second of all, the weather was supposed to be shit (and it was…read on). Third of all, I pass on grass. And supposedly, thats an integral part of the culture of the city (and it is…read on). Finally, me, Olga, and Bernacchi were traveling on different days than Sam and Mark, so there wasn’t all that much continuity. But I wanted to make the most of it, and I think in a weird way we sort of did!
There was nothing really to report on our first day, there. We had a relatively uneventful 45 minute flight and 4 other hours of shuttling, waiting, and train-ing to our final destination, despite the previous day’s tragedy at the Amsterdam airport. When we arrived, we checked into our hostel, roamed the streets a little, and went to sleep. Only 2 sketchy guys asked me if I wanted to buy hardcore drugs as I walked along that night, which turned out to be a record low. I really don’t understand what attracted the drug dealer’s to me. It may have been my dirty, Jack from Season 3 finale-like jacket, my long, messy hair, and the 2.5 weeks of not shaving that rubbed them the…right way, but I guess I’ll never know. Speaking of not shaving, Sam and I have agreed to pull a Dan Morris on our long 3 week eastern Europe trip, so I may have to fend off some more of them pretty soon.
On Friday morning, Sam and Mark finally arrived, and we all headed over to the Anne Frank house. It was sad and interesting and definitiely worth a visit, especially considering the strong gradient in subject matters between the house and the rest of the city. Not that the city is bad. It actually is quite pretty, with many canals and bicyclists, big parks and city squares. Sadly, it either rained or looked gloomy every day we were there, and theres no mistaking that the streets really do reek of pot.
Next, we got subpar and expensive crepes at a famous “Pancake” house that reminded me of Jade Goody, because neither should actually be famous. Too soon? In the evening we went to the sex museum, which was unintentionally hilarious and kind of sad. Not as sad, however, as the windows and windows of prostitutes lining the streets of the Red-Light District. There are literally hundreds of girls standing or sitting in these windows wearing bikinis and making gestures at you throughout all hours of the day/night. They come in all shapes and sizes (and ethnicities and ages, etc), and some are actually pretty atractive. We were happy to see a few guys walk in and out of some of the rooms behind the windows; the girls pay 200 euros a day to use the windows , and they only get about 50 euros per “client.” In light of the current economic crisis, their daily investments must be at risk!
On Saturday, Sam, Mark, and I did the Heinekin experience: a self-guided, but awesome tour through the Heinekin brewery. We learned about the brewing process, experienced the 4-D “Brew You” journey, and starred in our own James Bond/Heinekin beer commercials:
We also drank two free beers before noon, and I helped the bartender serve the “perfectly poured glasses” by knocking off the excess foam with the official Heiny Wand. We all agreed that it was a great tour, and we even purchased Heinekin glasses at the end. Purchased!? I know, right? They only cost 2.33 euros a glass, which is less than the price of a beer, so we all agreed that we were saving money. Self-justification? Check.
Next, we had a picnic in the Vondelpark: turkey and cheese sandwiches, pretzels, and bananas. Sam and Mark left to go home, and me, Olga, and Bernacchi checked in to our new hostel: Bob’s. Bob’s hostel was a funny place. It was in the Red-light District, and literally on one side of us was a coffee shop and on the other side of us was a window with a prostitute in it. You also could smoke pot in the main room of Bob’s, but not cigarettes. As Bob put it, “Green smoke = good, other smoke = bad.” This wasn’t just a policy from Bob’s but in fact the whole city. Recently, Amsterdam hilariously passed an indoor smoking ban which only applies to tabacco.
To kill time, the three of us decided to take a short ferry ride to North Amsterdam where we saw residential living and not much else. That night, we walked around the Red-Light District one more time, but sadly did not find some of the freaky one-legged or three-armed prostitutes that I’d heard existed. You might say I was looking in the wrong places, but I probably needed to be in the “wrong places” if I really wanted to find them.
The highlight of Sunday was finding the “I amsterdam” sign. Its like I am amsterdam, but they cut out one of the “am”s. Clever. We took fun pictures for a little while and then relaxed until the flight home.
Oh, and we ate at this yummy Falafel place called Maoz like 5 times. The food in Amsterdam otherwise sucked. Except for Choco-Duo which is like Nutella but instead of just chocolate, its Vanilla and Chocolate striped. I haven’t found it anywhere else, but if you do, please let me know! Bye!
just for the record, to pull a real dan morris, you need to abstain from shaving for at least 8 weeks