May 17-20 Amsterdam

This trip is going to have to be split up into several posts for each day because of the amount of pictures and things that I have to say about Amsterdam. Also, I am not posting every single picture that I took on this blog. You'll have to see my facebook for all of them. Why? There are over 130 of them for Amsterdam alone. Some duplicates, but that's still a lot.

May 17: Sex, Drugs, and Public Urinals
This morning Lucho and I left for Barcelona International at around noon and got there with plenty of time to spare. After saying our goodbyes, I left for the terminal where nothing remotely interesting happened to me even as I got on the plane. We boarded late but still managed to arrive on time at Amsterdam Schipol because of a very generous tailwind. Now this is where things go real fun for me. And by fun, I mean confusing.

Amsterdam
I had stuffed all my clothes into an overnight bag, so that I could skip the baggage claim and went straight for the exit. Apparently, I had to buy a train ticket to Amsterdam Central Station and the terminal that sold them was giving me grief over a pin code for a credit card. Credit cards do not have pin numbers except to withdraw money from them. They have security codes. (looking back, I should have tried that. After finally trudging my way to the customer service desk, I finally bought my ticket and later boarded the train to Amsterdam Central. And this where things got so much fun, I nearly cracked.

I do not speak Dutch. Nor do I speak German or French. I speak English, Spanish, and to an extent Japanese. Outside of Amsterdam Central all of the signs were either in Dutch or German. Needless to say, I was confused. I knew that I had to take the Number 5 Tram to Museum place and look for a street located across the stop. I bought a map of the city which was extremely detailed and came in handy more than once in Amsterdam. Looking back, I should have learned German instead of Japanese or at least kidnapped one of my German speaking friends to translate the signs for me. Fortunately, it all worked out in the end. I was only thirty minutes late to checking in and the area just happened to be nearest to several museums.

Hostelities
The hostel was comfortable. The place provided free Wireless and wired internet as well as a free breakfast which wasn't too bad. The stairs were pretty narrow and I nearly fell down them two or three times. I was put on the third floor which is a pain considering how heavy my overnight bag was. My roommates were by far some of the most interesting people. I shared a room with a horny Australian with sleep apnea, three Canadians who just graduated from Waterloo, a Brit whom we all thought was a serial killer, and two other Americans from Texas. The Australian was essentially going on a global culture tour during his three month vacation and talked about his travels to an FKK club (if you really want to know, I'll tell you in a private setting) in Germany and other places. He also talked about a few good places to go shopping and places to visit in Barcelona which I may get to at the end of my study abroad here. We all were hungry and decided to go to the Red Light District for dinner.

Red Light District
We walked around a bit and each had a falafel in the Chinatown portion of the RLD. The Canadians wanted to find some weed and we spent time searching for a bar that would let us smoke. I didn't smoke but I did inhale since the bar was open air and I was in the way. I'm pretty sure I didn't get high. After that we walked around the RLD some more and stared at the hookers. I couldn't take any pictures of them out of respect for privacy and local laws. We ran into a mob that was swarming a car trying to turn an extremely narrow corner. AS it turns out the mob was in fact a bunch of drunk Brits who just happened to be in Amsterdam at the moment. Advice: Never piss off a drunk Brit. We all know what happens after Manchester United loses. Our Australian friend left us for an amorous encounter with Amazonian hooker while we were considering whether or not to see a sex show. I opted out since the cost was 60 Euros without drinks and 45 Euros if you buy at least 4-5 drinks (How stupid do you think I am? Whiskey and Gin do not come cheap.) Besides, a hooker only costs 50 Euros. Why watch something when you can have it for cheap? Also, the sign said "Splash Zone. First three rows." I headed back to the hotel but sorta got lost on the way. In other words, I couldn't get off the @#$%$#%@$ tram at my stop or even tell when my stop was. I wandered around for about an hour and half until I said to hell with it and took a cab back. Fortunately, I had the address written down and got back cold but fine.

Sort of.

Expect Day 2 and Day 3 in the near future.