Red light Russians and rhinitis

Trip Start May 03, 2009
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Trip End Aug 19, 2009


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Where I stayed
The winston

Flag of Netherlands  , Noord-Holland,
Sunday, May 3, 2009

 The flight went well, I left with my sinuses packed with snot but my heart light with possibilities..... aside from a rather abrupt landing and a popped eardrum due to my sinuses being jammed tighter than a tokyo subway at rushhour.....here is Amsterdam,
 I arrived early on Sunday morning to find that the world is just a little smaller.... A fellow nursing student, Robin bumps in to me while collecting our baggage, he too is bound for Afrika with his wife after a week in amsterdam...weird...Of course I had to act shady and suspicious, accusing him of following me and that he worked for CSIS and that he had better tell his superiors to back off.....his wife didn't get it and was understandably disturbed...

I search for my bags for half an hour like a like a dog chasing his tail...only to realize that they have been stowed safely in the belly of the plane until tomorrow...good thing I brought a toothbrush...

I escape the organized mayhem of Schipol into the cool underground... a maze of platforms and foreign letters...all directing jet lagged souls to various vowel soaked destinations: Voorestaag, Laanderhas, Lynderaad, Hopestagft... I meander through the catacombs of  mass transit until a lonely loudspeaker trumpets the arrival of my train....Amsterdaam Centraal...

I tumble into the train with the other bodies, it is like a vaccum when compared to the echoing platforms outside..sliding in to a seat next to a group of japanese tourists, looking typically lost and completely hopeless, I gaze absently out the window as the the train silently speeds off into the waking city.

The train glides past typical western scenery, highways, industrial parks, densely packed apartment blocks..however everywhere there are people riding bicycles rather than stuck in traffic...soon the canals begin to appear and a disembodied voice tells me to get the fuck off the train....in dutch

I gather a lungful of coastal air into myself, filling all those dried out alveoli with a wake up call that creeps up my spine and bitch slaps my brain....ahhh. Suddenly self concious, I slip into the bustling throngs of commuters and am carried out into the streets of Amsterdam Central.. I stop and buy a pack of smokes, a croissant, and a tea....time to gas up...and get directions. The guy behind the counter has a cockney accent at least I think so...since the eardrum blew everybody sounds like they are under six feet of water. I quickly learn that almost nobody in Amsterdam is from amsterdam...oddly enough.  I wolf down the croissant and gulp down the tea....it burns all the way down, before my throat has a chance to respond I take a long drag off a lucky strike, raise my collar against the morning chill and steal off into the empty  labyrinth of the famous redlight district... pools of water in the gutters reflect the flickering neon of heineken signs and the buzzing red lights signalling amsterdams famous profession....

I reach the Winston, a tidy lil spot in the middle of the red light district...get a room and a complimentary beer, and collapse for some sleep... I am woken up by the arguing of a small very upset Korean woman and the large turkish owner....apparently no one told her that everything in Amstrerdaam is co-ed...go figure....

I wander down to the bar, where an Australian stikes up a conversation with me over a beer....rubbing the sleep from my eyes and chasing the taste of a transatlantic flight from my palate....we cover the usual suspects...where ya from, why ya here, where ya going...blah blah blah...check the watch...I have been sleeping most of the day..it is now 8pm, and the croissant is long gone....we grab some chop suey from a small dive across from a titty bar and beneath a gay disco and dildo shop....what a place...not the kinda place ya take yer mother....

A japanese guy and his girlfriend wave down the australian and we grab another beer at a little english pub nestled between an all night tattoo parlour and another sex toy shop...they say in broken english they want to go see the girls....so away we go...

The night has turned damp and once again I turn my collar up against the wet stones of amsterdam's weather worn streets...the buzzing of red lights, soft thumping bass of hidden discos and the hushed murmurs of voyeurs as I make my way down the tight alleyways of the whore district... behind each door girls wave and blow kisses, some open the door and beckon.
Eastern european, Thai, Phillipine, North African, all the unwanted daughters of a generation stare blankly out the red tinged doorways waiting for groups of drunken englishmen and italians to come calling...they stare blankly at the timid japanese couple hurrying by...they smile at me and the australian as we light cigarettes and muse as to how much the window time costs to rent per hour...do they get a discount if they show their union card?

We stop at a coffee shop so the Australian can indulge in the other famous pastime of Amsterdaam....as we meander back to the hotel, we puff and pass admiring the various contraptions in the windows and observing the diaspora of degenerates wandering the neon night...I leave the australian at the bar and head back to bed for some more shut eye.....only to be confronted 2 hours later by a very drunk young Canadian girl who seems to think picking fights with random tattooed strangers is a good idea in foreign countries...I let it slide and leave her with a polite reminder that not everyone is as tolerant of idiocy as I am .....after all I need all the good deeds I can amass....tomorrow is Afrika...

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