Amsterdam

What else can I say…. Amsterdam. What a place!

Ever since I was a little troublemaker I have felt an attraction to visit this place; it’s like Mecca for potheads. As an adult I have mostly cast away my youthful pothead ways, after all it is quite irresponsible and so holistically unproductive. There are of course exceptions to life’s rules, one of which of course came on my pilgrimage to a previous life’s Mecca. (notice in the picture the Grasshopper [wink] and right beside it Tasty Bites. Coincidence? No way!)

After some 2 euro Stellas (they are the cheap beer there, go figure lakeport) we walked into this café to find some guy sitting in a booth behind a glass window, not unlike a movie theatre. The menu is on the wall behind glass, which is lit up at the push of an abnormally large button. Once one has made a selection one would proceed to the guy in the widow to make ones order and he hands over to that individual what in any other country would get one arrested. At this point customers are free to have a seat in the café and consume their purchase.

As some saying goes “when in Rome…..” well, I justified my participation with a similar saying, something like “when in Amsterdam…..”. This was pretty entertaining to say the least, almost as much as the absynth I drank later; yes the stuff which cause Van Gogh to chop his own ear off. My night was capped off by a tasty treat know as “space cake”. I will forever remember (somehow) the cake experience and cringe just a little every time I reach for a brownie. Hunter S. Thompson eat your heart out.

The Red Light District is one small trouble filled corner of an otherwise beautiful peaceful European city. It is here that you find the cafes, red lights and sketchiest of lone-travelers. Our hotel was just on the outer part of the district, so much so that when we sat out back of the hotel on the patio we were looking down upon a small ally with about 8 little doors all with corresponding red lights. There was hardly a minute when single men were not wandering down the dead end ally to check out what was for sale only to turn around once they reached the end and continue browsing. It was quite entertaining for us to look down and see this going on all from the comfort and safety of our hotel. The fact that legal prostitution exists is both intriguing and disgusting but above all is an indication of the progressiveness of the Dutch. Despite its disturbing surface, I think it beats the black market.

Besides the bad stuff, Amsterdam has much to offer. It is such a beautiful city with countless canals where you really get a sense of being in Europe. We walked the city, had lunch on the street, went to the Van Gogh museum and of course toured the Heineken factory. It was a quick two day trip that I wish was longer, but in retrospect it is probably better that is wasn’t. I must say, I loved Amsterdam but it should be a while before I return again.