So its Friday night, Chris, Wilson and I have touched down, and made it to our hostel, easy. The friendly chap at the desk pulls out a map and marks out all the sightseeing spots helpfully, but with one notable omission. I was hoping the other two wouldn't fill in this void by inquiry, but Chris couldn't help himself.
"So where is the red light district?"..."Everywhere around here" he said pointing to where we were. His response was casual without hesitation, which made it strange to me to skip out in the first place given the reputation of the place, and a thing most people are at least curious to see (which we were). I guessed it was a part of some 'only if asked policy' for people who might take offence having come to stay at the cheapest lodgings in Amsterdam for the I don't know what...
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| See what they've done there?.. I got it straight away |
Hunger was first priority though, so we strolled out to find dinner. An €11 ribs special at a steakhouse caught our eye so we settled there for our feed. The drinks menu was unique in that the beer section only had sizes of beer (S,M,L) with associated prices. We asked what kind of beer they had, and they looked at us with genuine bemusement before answering "Heineken". The loyalty in Amsterdam is such that you'll find little else on tap between that and Grolsch (another dutch concoction). Not a sour point at all as the Heineken tastes bloody good in Amsterdam, as opposed to the head splitting stuff served back home (caused by preservatives apparently?). The rest of the night we spent venturing from pub to cafe in no particular fashion or order.
Midway through however, we happened across a narrow alley from which an enticing purple/pink neon light was emanating. Completely drawn, we took a route towards. Before we knew it, we found we were walking down an alley of booths, filled with bikini clad ladies. You'd expect such a scene to stop you in your tracks in wonderment, like say the Grand Canyon might, but in truth, it was frightening. I mean I'm scared of girls anyway when they're fully clothed and placid. These ones were not, and had fearless eyes that were almost too encountering. Picking up the pace, we made it safely to the other end before sharing a bit of a laugh. It immediately became the most risqué moment in my life, second only to the time I knowingly ate expired Parmesan cheese sprinkles. The open boardwalk was a bit more comfortable for liaising and provided enough distance to make you get used to it after a while. I eventually ended up thinking it was all a bit touristy and below my expectations with regards to the visceral. Anyway, it was cold and we got tired, so headed back to the hostel. Wilson however insisted on one last beer, and although Chris and I weren't keen, he was headset, and lead us towards a pub of his liking. It was an empty, quiet place and we got some drinks and sipped away. After a few moments I casually glanced around. To one side there was a small group, with some guy who seemed rather drunk, dancing around being a bit of a fool. It was late, to be expected, no biggie. To their right was a couple of blokes chit chatting over a drink. Normal enough. A hand from one was placed somewhat affectionately on the others leg which was a bit odd, but these Europeans are a bit more open with their mutual expressions for one another. A bartender then appeared from out back. Slim lad, neatly dressed, checked his appearance in a side mirror straightening his shirt in a way some might describe as a little priss... I paused. I looked back at the dancing man, back at the couple, back at the bartender.
Social calculations fostered in my head. I looked over at Chris and Wilson. Something too had sobered them. In silence, we finished our drinks and left.... well, me and Chris finished our drinks. Wilson only got half way through his. He knew he had drunk enough.
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| A bit of the night |
In life, there are good and bad things to wake up to I find. Birds chirping, fresh fruit, hot toast would itemize in the good. A loud conversation between 3 Poms regarding who was needing to, able to, and had devastated the only toilet on the level, would form oppositely on the bad. Such was our first morning experience in the Dam. Our dorm roommates spent no less than 2 hours on this topic of conversation whilst we were trying to get a few extra hours of sleep. They did drift into football for about 10 minutes, I'll give them that, but toilet habits proved much more stimulating so they quickly switched back. Eventually, it was enough to get us up and into our first full day.
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| Outside the Rijsk Museum |
Saturday was mostly about the museums and sites. First up was the Rembrandt Collection at the Rijsk Museum. Big fan of Rembrandt. So delicate and precise with his use of light, its as if all his paintings are touched by the purist spectrum of god. Next was the Heineken Brewery. Was actually a good learning experience. First thing I picked up was the 'e's in the Heineken logo are actually smiling 'e's depicted by a slight slant. Also, if you hold your glass up above your eyes, you'll see hundreds of tiny bubbles that form below the underside head/foam of the beer. Cool aye? The only slightly bizarre sections were the 2 semi-like mind control rooms randomly flashing out Heineken promo ads, probably there to incept the brand into the mind. We finished the day at Anne Frank's house. Was a really long wait & queue outside in the cold. Really long. Was a great exhibit, and should've been stirring, but I was really hungry by the time we got in, and only had energy to preoccupy myself with thoughts about how surprisingly roomy it all was. I know there was like 8 of them and only one bathroom to share (would personally find that impossible), but still...
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| Inside the Heineken Brewery |
Dinner was pizza. Bit ordinary. We then preceded to find a bar to rest in. Having relieved Wilson of all bar-picking duties for the trip, Chris took charge and we found a place to our liking. Was nothing fancy. Small place with a few TV screens, but they did have something special. A bar girl who was the spitting image of Rihanna. Always had a soft spot for Rihanna. Couldn't really articulate why, aside from the obvious. Maybe it was coz she was stuck with that whathisname who was no good, to which she deserved better. Anyway, this girl could've been her twin sister. The likeness was amazing. And that wasn't even the best part. The best part was, she actually talked to me. Not a lie. Unprovoked chit-chat. Magnetic. Her shift over, she was heading out but stopped and came over to my seat. She asked me if we were returning the next day. I said our flight out was early evening. She said she started at 11am. A bit blank by the abruptness, I gave her my word we would try. Happy, she said goodbye and left.
Wilson later claimed she touched him on the shoulder first, and Chris also piped he had previously enticed her with banter, but those were all meaningless subplots. I got the eye-to-eye direct attention. Me. Rihanna. Nobody else. So seldom have I experienced such true divinity, it almost heartened me to weep.
We stayed getting a bit more drunk before stumbling back to the hostel accidentally via a wrong dorm room full of girls (who were all asleep so no harm) and that was the day.
Sunday
There are a few things you have to do when visiting certain places. According to Chris, spending the day cycling was one of them so we headed to a rental place nice and early and got our speed machines. Now I'm all for exercise. Respected footballer and feared cricketer. I will point out at this stage that it was very cold in Amsterdam. -1C cold. It was a thought that occurred but not enough so to provide any real wane in want. Will return to the point as it became important later.
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| One of the many canals |
Amsterdam was designed in its city planning with bicycles in mind. They have their own separate lanes and lights which is quite unique and makes it all very easy. Maybe all the canals meant they didn't have a choice for an extensive network consisting solely of roads. Whatever behind the decision, it's a good one, and makes for a much less noisy and more peaceful ambiance. Haven't biked a lot in the last 10 years so I did find it a little nervy, and slightly embarrassing when being overtaken by girls much smaller, exerting half the effort.
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| The Park of no name.... well not one I can remember |
Our first cycle was to a massive park (which I forget the name). It was awesome though, as there was acres of space on paths to weave and around the people on strolls. We then made our way to the Van Gough Museum where we managed to tie our bikes up and walk in. Again, good. Lots of Van Goughs. Any guy who cuts his own ear off to make a point in an argument gets my lifelong respect for that act alone, be he had paint stroke vision as well.
At this point I was feeling a bit wheezy but we soldiered on with the bikes. This went on for longer than expected, as we got a little lost trying to find a market that eventually didn't exist. An old man with watery eyes came to our aid, sympathised with us about the Christchurch earthquake, before pointing us in the right direction. At this point we had spent a few hours on the bikes and had approximately and hour and a bit to kill before our departure. Suggestions were mooted as to how to spend the time. I submitted mine. It involved a promise I had made, and vowed to keep.
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| Van Gough Museum |
Against the wind we rode towards our objective. By this time it was late afternoon and fairly brisk. I was layered up, but my throat had swelled. It was like breathing sandpaper. This was no time for obstacles or fatigue however, and we maintained pursuit. Finding a suitable tree, we chained up our vehicles and headed for the bar. The bar of Rihanna.
We strode in, and there she was. Our sights were confirmed from the night before as she showed no diminishment of beauteous form from the previous night. She saw us immediately and smiled softly to herself. Adorable. Extremely proud of the accomplishment we sat down and ordered a few drinks. Now what. We sort of just sat there, pretty quiet. I don't know about the other two, but I started to feel pretty crook. My face felt like it had been whacked with an ice block. I thought the beers would clear me up, but they didn't seem to help at all. Rihanna herself was a little distracted, counting money behind the bar with what looked like the owner. Festering, I just felt worse and worse. In the end the mission had turned into one of absolute survival. Before we knew it, it was time to go and we left without the chance to even say goodbye.
The boys were disappointed, as was I. They claimed I had bottled it. Some might agree. The way I saw it, in my state, I would've done more harm than good. The night before I was sharp-fierce, like Rihanna's King Piranha. Today, I was but a sickly weak shadow. Maybe I had nothing to lose. Maybe in just being there, I had already won...
I really did have nothing to lose, what a bloody idiot, don't know what I was thinking... but thats me. Had a great time in the Dam and hope to someday return.
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