A Change of Plans and Amsterdam
Leaving Prague was a bit of a nightmare as the girl at the hostel gave us absolutely WRONG directions to the airport. (Don’t stay at Chili Hostel in Prague) We finally made it and checked in to discover that Wizzair was promoting something and giving away free food and champagne. Everything had meat on it, except for a slice of bread with strawberries and bree cheese on it. Ryan sampled all the meaty sandwiches and downed three or four glasses of champage. We checked in, waited around impatiently with the other Wizzair passengers to claim a seat. These budget airlines don’t assign seats. So its a big scramble when they let us on the plane. We got a seat and we both fell asleep. I woke up when we were about to ‘start the descent’ and Ryan was freaking out about the turbulance. With our arrival in Eindhoven, a few hours away from Amsterdam, we were greeted with free bottles of Champagne. Thank you Wizzair!
We got on the bus headed for the train station that would take us to Amsterdam a bit crabby, from the heat and the masses of people, although it was nice to see people of all colours (Poland seems to only be filled with, well, Polish) and speak to people in impeccable English. Got on the train, had to switch trains due to whatever reason. Sat next to a man from Iraq who wouldn’t talk to me but had a lot to say to Ryan. Watching this exchange I could tell Ryan didn’t want to talk to him.
We switched trains and claimed seats across the aisle from eachother. We both looked out the windows, silent. I was thinking about how tired I was getting again, and how I didn’t want to go back to Poland again. We had a return flight from Eindhoven Prague and then a flight from Warsaw to London on the twelfth…Since we were halfway to England, why not go there now? We could settle for almost two weeks til our flight to Morocco, I could find a yoga class and Ryan could make some money (as a massage therapist). I brought this up to Ryan and he broke into a huge grin. London sounded promising and we both started to feel a little better about life. We’d eat the tickets, the money was gone anyway, and as Ryan had put it, “Going back to Poland would be like beating a dead horse”. One couldn’t have put it better.
When we got off the train in Central Station we were hit with a cloud of potsmoke. Welcome to Amsterdam! We found Tram number 9, the one that would take us to my cousins exboyfriends Bram’s house. I emailed him about meeting for a drink a week before and he offered us his house. Can’t turn down free accomodation! We got to his house and was immediately offered some of “his beer”, Heineken. We drank two and went for a walk to a bar called the Groene Oxlifant-The Green Elephant, sampled some beers and Bitterballen-veal deep fried dipped in Mustard. Ryan loved it while I sampled on some cheese, which was delicious as well. Bram was staying at his girlfriends that night so we got to sleep in his bed. What a great host!
Next morning we headed into the city for a breakfast of fries. Fries in Amsterdam come in a massive funnel shaped sleeve and smothered by a huge glob of sauce. We both picked Americain, a semi spicy sauce. I’ve been thinking about these fries since I’d left Amsterdam the last time. Yum…
My goal for Amsterdam was to not get stoned. This was my third time here, and this time I wanted to appreciate the city for what it has besides the things that are illegal in the rest of the world. Which, I discovered later, isn’t much. Ryan’s goal for Amsterdam was the exact opposite of mine.
Ryan purchased some pot and we found a park to chill in. He smoked while I read and slept. When we got back to Brams, a note was waiting for us: he was staying at his girlfriends and he’d see us in the morning. Sweet! We got to sleep in his bed again.
Had fries again for breakfast-this time I got ketchup. How American. The other sauce gave me heartburn the day before, so I fugured Id be safe with Ketchup. Looking back, I think it was the greasyness of the fries that did it.
We took the New Europe’s Free Tour of Amsterdam and it was probably the best one we’d been on. The girl was very enthusiastic and seemed to know a lot about the city and its history. People were more inclined to ask questions here, since, well it is Amsterdam. It’s every pot smoker’s dream to come here, and probably one of the more interesting stops along the way on a Eurotrip.
We learned a few things as well. Like how much services cost in the Red Light District. Prices start at 50 Euros and go up from there, anything beyond basic of the basic-est is an extra charge. We also learned about the significance of a Catholic Church in the middle of the Red Light District. Since what most people did in the RLD was immoral in some way shape of form, they could go to the chuch immediately after sinning and confess and along with a small fee, could basically get their ‘get out of hell free’ card. If one also knew exactly what he wes going to do, he could also do it beforehand for a bit of a discount. Pot is NOT legal in Amsterdam, but the laws are so lax they just look the other way. Too much money is to be made off of pot there. The XXX displayed all over Amsterdam could mean two things, or both if you think about it. the first theory is that it’s the symbol of Amsterdam, as many people couldn’t read or write in the seventeenth and eighteenth centruries, so XXX was the universal sign for Amsterdam. More recently its been decided that each X stands for each of the things that can harm (or that has?) Amsterdam: plague, flood, and fire. It’s also joked that the Dutch are the tallest white people in the world as a survival of the fittest; all the short people have drowned.
We went to a pub on Rembrandtplein with one of the guys from the tour, Joe. The pub that’s called Three Sisters is a theif: 5 Euro twenty cents for a pint of Heineken! That’s at least 7 USD a pint. But it was good people watching and we hung out there a few hours, before Ryan and Joe decided they needed to visit a coffee shop. I recalled of one on the other side of the square called Smokeys so we headed over there. I ordered another beer while they smoked. We sat outside and peoplewatched some more and I noticed a Looney Tunes Roadrunner shirt. I thought it was cool so I looked at the person’s head who was wearing it: it turned out to be Tanner from Istanbul! I jumped up, gave him a big hug, he introduced me to his new friends and told me about how stoned he was…we chatted a bit until I realized there was no conversing with him in the state he was in, so I went back to get my beer. Both Ryan and Joe were stoned out of their minds so I had to navigate us back to Joe’s hostel, and then Ryan and I back to Brams.
Next day we walked the hour walk all the way to the center just for fries and then realized we had to go back and pack if we were going to make our bus to London. Walked another hour back to Brams, packed, and headed out. Walked way out of our way to find Amstel Station, due to the lack of street signs. Yeah I’m blaming the street signs. Finally found it, would have been a half hour walk instead of an hour and fifteen minutes. Grrr. Anyway. We got on the bus and noticed the steering wheel was on the right side. I thought to myself, if I loved Australia and New Zealand so much, I have to love England…
As as afterthought on Amsterdam, I’m done with it. Everytime I come here, I realize I don’t like it. I thought being in Amsterdam sober would change my idea of it, but no. Sure, there’s history, and its seeped in it, but everyone seems to overlook that. I love the architecture of it, how the buildings lean forward so people can move in. There’s no way furniture would fit up the stairwells. The city wants to slowly get rid of the coffeeshops and red light district. They’d lose so much tourism by doing this. The city is one big tourist attraction. All the neon lights, red or not, ruin it. So does the cheesyness of it. Give me a city that is proud of its history. Give me a city that has something to do that I’ll remember.
Tags: Europe
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