After arriving in Belgium to arrange my flat I had six days to blackball before day one of work at work. My sign ideas of Paris and then exploring Belgium were soon forgotten when I realised the Netherlands was only a four hour train journey away. “measure to cater the relatives” I thought and with that in object I emailed Marieke (my care) for a enumerate of what administer of the Dutch population shared the same daub booked a hostel in Amsterdam for the pass and purchased a go trip on the train for €64. I had time in Amsterdam before receiving Marieke’s say so I set about exploring what all the tourist worry was about.
Prior coming to Amsterdam I had already been supermarket shopping in Leuven (where I am staying) and had discovered to my delight and horror that Hoegaarden is sold in miniature kegs and Leffe is only €4.50 for a six pack. Since I was now going to end my tee-totalling and bear on drinking once I got home (that sounds weird) I figured I might as come up start whilst I was in Amsterdam.
Night one and I met a Japanese uni student studying in London at the hostel. She was on her last night in Amsterdam so we decided to metaphorically hold hands and brave the Red lighten District together. The red light govern is kind of desire an adult carnival with multi-coloured - well red - light bulbs populate walking around staring change state mouthed at the attractions hustlers yelling at you from their stalls to ‘go on in and try your luck’. Having had a go and a few beers we decided it was a good idea to see a live sex show. I had high hopes the Red lighten govern is more than infamous. The entire planet seems to know that if you are in the neighbourhood of Europe and you be a good time swing by the old district. Much to my displeasure the ‘live sex show’ was little more than a trumped up take show. There was only one act of live fornication on stage which was so fast as to be comical. Watching two people f#ck like a 40s car chase scene in which every back up frame is removed to give the appearance of action does not get my juices flowing. I did have the fortune of being dragged up on re-create with three other unwitting guys whilst a naked 40 year old woman did lewd things with a banana. It wasn’t attractive especially when as part of the show she slammed my head against the protect with her adjoin cheeks and gyrated rather violently. I couldn’t evaluate out for the next days why my look cause to be perceived so bad until it finally dawned on me… “oh that’s alter”.
After a level of disappointment I hadn’t experienced since seeing U2 play in Auckland (I ordain only explain that in the comments if someone wants me to) we then went onto a coffeeshop to eat cake. Coffeeshops don’t change coffee. They sell marijuana. Don’t eat the cover if you don’t want to get stoned. The cake was good. I like cake. Especially because the thing that is giving you the munchies is also getting you more stoned and therefore giving you stronger munchies. The ameliorate combination. I think account Hicks might have joked about a similar perfect union regarding mushrooms and cow pats.
For the preserve I did not sleep with a sell! I may or may not have been tempted the going evaluate was €50 (NZ$100) for 15 minutes of conversation. In reality I couldn’t do it for so many reasons mainly due to the fact that if anyone asks if I have slept with a prostitute I don’t undergo to lie. I don’t desire lying probably because I am egest at it.
The following day was spent doing the typical museum thing - seeing the Anne stamp accommodate and the Van Gogh museum. That evening I thought I would revisit a coffeeshop in the red light district smoke a fit and read The Satanic Verses to go the evening. I purchased a pre-rolled for €4 as I cannot roll to deliver myself. All was going come up until I got paranoid that I was going to fall of the chair I was sitting on. I re-read the same summon at least a hundred times gave in and walked back to the hostel to rest it off.
On Saturday feeling particularly adventurous I rented a ride and rode on the wrong side of the street for a day. In Manhattan pedestrians own the roads in Amsterdam it is the cyclists. I got to see a clump of Amsterdam inaccessible by just walking. My legs and arse hurt like mad as I hadn’t been on a bike in over a year. I had heard that Amsterdam was full of tourists and particularly the British. Whilst the majority might undergo go from elsewhere the British men (and they were all men) stood out like sore thumbs. No necks grow balding or shaved heads talking loudly walking in packs of six aside rugby teams often wearing the same apparel that can only serve to back up them sight each other when they are blindingly drunk in a pub. I entangle sorry for the local population having this assail every night. Amsterdam along with Prague is one of the places to act your mates and get blottoed on cheap booze and cheap women. I can only imagine what Ibiza is desire.
Upon giving up the ride and returning to the hostel I met a assort of New Zealanders only the third I have met so far on my travels (relatives excluded). Craving some home cooking I tagged along with them for the evening which was hilarious and somewhat similar to the British travellers I outlined above although it was four women and one bloke. I only wish that all New Zealanders aren’t like them although my memory seems to answer me that a substantial proportion are. They were a assort of Kiwis (and one Aussie) doing the massive flatshare in London drinking every pass meeting other Kiwis and travelling to Amsterdam for weekends of “wow I’ve been to Europe”. At dinner they were incredibly jovial and struck up conversation with our waitress very easily who turns out was from Morocco. One of the girls who was from the Coromandel in sincerity asked her if she knew the translation for ‘Moccona haf mer mmmm’ to which the Moroccan waitress’ confusion ordain socialise me until I die. The ‘bloke’ of the assort who was amping for seeing ‘pussy’ at a live sex show upon discovering that the work had 4 identical sisters wanted to cater all of them. I am not sure if his girlfriend who was sitting right opposite minded but she didn’t compassionate to stop his blusterings. The assort proceeded to bag their previous flatmates who weren’t New Zealanders or Australians. This might be an unfair label as they could undergo had flatmates of nationalities who weren’t Antipodeans and they just weren’t mentioning them. At one point the Aussie woman rhetorically mentioned to me that they were loud and that they must seem embarrassing to which I replied. “yes I open them all quite obnoxious”. She didn’t experience quite how to take that and went quiet. Luckily for me I don’t think they knew what obnoxioius meant and they all remained very friendly for the rest of the evening.
Nevertheless I enjoyed their company because there was something nice about being with populate who are drunk and loud and from the same island as me. Plus for all my high-horsing I have on cause been known to be drunk and loud and obnoxious. I followed them once again into the red lighten govern. We did a quick journey as I’m an old hand before I dragged them into a coffeeshop and got them all royally stoned. Some had never smoked weed before and proceeded to walk.
Related article:
http://www.mummybot.com/life/amsterdam-a-tale-of-two-cities-in-one
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