Well, being the subtle person I am (not), I asked her when her flight was and where she was staying. She caught on to my intentions and was really enthusiastic about me meeting her there, so she helped me look for flights instead of studying for an exam she had the next day (sorry about that, Ginny). Thanks to lastminute.com (no, seriously), I booked a flight to Amsterdam and headed off into the cold, cold, cold unknown that is Holland.
Now, I hate to sound naïve, but I just really was scandalized by the liberalness of this city. Of course I knew that weed was legal there, but when my guidebook had a little section about the red light district I was downright shocked when I realized prostitution was legalized. When I got off the plane and somehow found my way to the hotel with the help of a million kind Dutch souls who fortunately all speak English, I put my bag down and Ginny and I went to meet a group of her friends at a coffee shop across the street. We went just, you know, to look around and say that we visited one. After a while, we thought it would be cool to walk around the red light district (which our hotel was practically in). Naturally, we utilized the buddy system and linked arms while we walked past all the windows with red lights and real, live prostitutes in them. I hate to admit it, but I was blushing and was really just scared to look at them. As much as I enjoyed acting like a 13-year-old, the novelty of the whole situation wore off and we eventually made the loop around a canal and headed back to grab some late night food at the doner kebab, which apparently is big in Amsterdam, too!
Saturday was probably the longest day of my life. Which was to be predicted if you took into consideration we were a group of eight college girls with a collective indecisiveness and unwavering determination to see as much as possible. We finally decided to head to the outdoor market, and after a 30-minute walk and numerous map consultations we arrived at the giant market full of people. It was like a giant dollar store that was outside with row after row after row of anything you could possibly need or want. The thing that most caught my attention was a heavenly smell coming from a stand selling some type of waffle that was really thin and crispy and was served like a sandwich with caramel syrup in the middle. It was the best. waffle. ever. Of course, we all got one. And, Mary Catherine – great news – I still have those monogrammed gloves you gave me for Christmas a few years ago! The bad news – they were a casualty of my waffle after all the syrup slid out the bottom into my hands when Ginny didn’t relay the info about keeping the waffle flat. Sorry.
I was an ice cube after the market, and ready to get the heck going. We were going to the Van Gogh museum next, so we stopped to get some coffee on the way to warm up. Before we went to the museum, we stopped and took pictures with the “I Amsterdam” sign that was nearby. Then, we went to get in line for the museum as it started to snow. We went through the whole museum and then when I asked where my two favorite paintings that I really came to see were, I was informed they are in LONDON now. Seriously? What is the point in advertising a painting if it’s NOT even in the museum.
We went to eat lunch at a café nearby and I was enjoying my club sandwich when I realized I was starting to get a migraine. Well, I wasn’t in a situation in which I could go back to the hotel seeing as how I had no idea how to get there and I wasn’t going to make Ginny leave, especially when we were about to go to the Heineken factory. Instead, I pretended my head wasn’t pounding and that I could see perfectly fine even though I had a giant aura. We trekked across the city to make it to the brewery in time and arrived with just ten minutes to spare. It was a 90-minute tour of the Heineken brewery complete with 3 beers. Around my second beer I was feeling really good and I realized that maybe beer is the perfect migraine cure? I’m not completely sure, but I think I should test this theory again.
After the tour, we went back to the hotel for a hot minute to get ready for dinner and a DJ Pretty Lights concert. We ate dinner at this Italian/Argentinean barbeque restaurant next door and got harassed by the waiter for not leaving a big tip, only to learn that tipping is not customary in Holland and that guy was just a jerk. We thought we were being nice by leaving even a small tip since you don’t tip at all in Denmark or Spain, and he was just taking advantage of Americans. Cool.
The concert didn’t start until midnight, so we decided to go hangout at a bar for a little while. When it finally started, we all went to the dance floor. It was insane. Apparently this DJ is pretty famous and played at Bonaroo, and I could definitely tell why. He was amazing, and I was having a great time until circa 2 am when I could barely stand on my feet. I went to get my coat, and it turns out some of the other girls were falling asleep at the bar. We were all SO ready to leave even though it was a great time.
Sunday morning came way too soon, but we packed and headed out into the city again. We made it to the Anne Frank house, and after standing in line for like 30 minutes, we finally got inside. I’m glad I got to see it while I was there even though it was rather depressing. Next, we went shopping to lift our spirits and then grabbed some lunch. I had to practically run out of the restaurant to get to the hotel and take a train to get to the airport. I ran into another guy from the Valencia program at the train station and I practically scared him when I recognized his face even though I’d never officially met him. I hate traveling alone and I was stressing out over what platform to go to, so I was really glad I recognized him and we became travel companions. Creepy? Maybe. But my stress level was reduced by 389980923 times
I finally got back to Valencia and then took the metro home and made it just in time for dinner. It was Amsterdam in a whirlwind of 48 hours. This week I have four midterms that I am currently procrastinating studying for. I hope they won’t be that bad. After, we’re heading to Barcelona for the weekend. I’m really excited because I won’t have to travel alone and it won’t be negative a trillion degrees.
No comments:
Post a Comment