Adventures in Amsterdam
Trip Start
Sep 01, 1999
1
10
17
Trip End
Dec 21, 1999
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Amsterdam, Netherlands
Saturday, October 9, 1999
For those of you who are interested, I have tales from Amsterdam to tell. This weekend, Larissa, a friend of ours named Karen, and I took a short trip to the capital of Holland. We left on Thursday night/Friday morning at 12am. We slept on the train and arrived well rested in Amsterdam at 9:00am. To anyone who ever plans on sleeping on a train in the future, I recommend first class. It's only a little more expensive and well worth the extra space.
So it was raining in A-dam when we arrived. It rains a lot in Holland, I understand. At first glance, I was surprised at how much A-dam looks like my vision of Bangkok - neon lights, tourists, McDonalds, all ridiculously packed together along the main street, the Damstraat. [Note: at the time I wrote this, I had never been to Bangkok, so I really had no idea what I was talking about with this comparison.] I was also surprised at the many beautiful canals, which like a dumb American, I thought only existed in Venice. And lastly, I was surprised at how unfriendly the Dutch are when you try to speak German to them. I found out there is still a lot of WWII animosity there.
So, Karen, Larissa, and I quickly found our youth hostel, which was cozily nestled between a whorehouse and a crack house in the red light district. I was surprised at how many live, working prostitutes one can see at 10 o'clock on a Friday morning. Nonetheless, we checked into the hostel and were fully appalled by the conditions. Not that I have anything against dirt, rats, and stale pot stench, but I just didn't want to pay 55fl (approx. $30) a night for it. Unfortunately, it was all that was available.
Our first destination on Friday afternoon was the Anne Frank house. What an extraordinary museum! We got to walk through the Secret Annex where Anne and her family hid for two years from the Nazis. Anne's room still has the posters of movie stars that she hung on the walls. The coolest part was looking in her mirror. I half expected her reflection to stare back at me.
Friday night, Larissa, Karen, and I ate Dutch food for diner - chicken, potatoes, and dumplings. Then we went to a coffee shop to check it out. That was really strange. People were buying, rolling, and smoking pot right out in the open. Everyone was so happy. Even the police. After the coffee shop the three of us went on an improv comedy show. I agree with the advice of my father that everyone should go to see a comedy show at lease once a week. It was hysterical, and, thankfully, in English.
After the show, the three of us walked around and observed the pulse of the city. I decided that I think Amsterdam has quite possibly the most people having the most fun in the most concentrated area. Unfortunately it wasn't any fun going back to our youth hostel and sleeping amongst whores and druggies. I slept fully clothed on top of the sheets and rose as early as possible on Saturday morning to get my ass out of there. It took Larissa, Karen, and I two hours to find another hotel with a vacancy. Amsterdam is quite packed on the weekends.
Eventually we found our savior, Hotel Brian. It was still no Holiday Inn, but at least it was out of the filth and smut. It was in the cute and wholesome part of the city (on the other side of the Damstraat), right on a canal, and we were given a warm, cheerful welcome by pot-smoking John, the day manager.
Finally having found a decent (and actually less expensive) place to stay, the three of us ventured out to see some of Amsterdam's art museums. Unfortunately, I found them exceedingly boring. The museum of modern art especially pissed me off, except for one Van Gogh that I fell in love with - the Diggers. Oh well. In the afternoon, we met up with Coralie, a friend of mine from Belgium, and another friend of hers. At this point, Karen left the group to hang out with John and the rest of us took a boat tour through the canals. I noticed from the water that the houses are a little bit crooked, like a model made by a talented fifth grader without any help from his parents. It makes for a very cute, storybook effect. Aside from the red light district, Amsterdam is a very beautiful city.
At night we ate Italian and then hit a few bars and discos until the wee hours of the morning. Then Coralie and her friend wanted to see the red light district, so we took them to where we had stayed the night before. Needless to say, they were shocked. What was more surprising than the whores was the amount of men actually buying. There were lots of girls sitting in windows, but a lot more windows with the shades drawn. It blew my mind.
Sunday morning we all woke up to complimentary omelets cooked by John. All of us then split up to do our own thing throughout the city. I went to the Van Gogh museum, which I did enjoy. I noticed that his original painting are much more bright and colorful than the copies that I've seen. When I was finally museumed out, I took a walk around the city by myself and pondered the meaning of life. After coming to no significant conclusions, I met back up with the group, ate at a really Spanish restaurant, and got on the train bound for Freiburg. Once on the train I think I can speak for the group when I say we all felt like, "What the hell just happened?" It was such a crazy, crazy experience, but a good one. I think everyone needs to go to Amsterdam at least once in their lives. It's just something you have to see.
Talk to everyone later. Miss you.
Love, Ingrid
