30 Jul 2012: Red Light

30 Jul 2012:

Red Light

Amsterdam, North Holland, the Netherlands

H: 19 L: 11 Weather: Partly Cloudy, Scattered Showers

I woke up on the morning of July 30th feeling strangely refreshed.  I had set my alarm for 08:30, to make sure I'd be down for breakfast at 09:30 with time to spare.  After all, I had been starting to look like a scruffy hobo and needed to shave - false advertising in that I would of course be a suave and debonair hobo.  I took a nice shower, successfully shaved, and folded my clothes that I had laundered the night before, then headed down to breakfast.  I went down to breakfast and found the breakfast room completely empty.

I checked my watch.  10:30.  Er, what?

It turns out I had successfully changed every single one of my clocks except for the one in my luggage, which I couldn't get to.  Well, great.  I had successfully stood up the Canadians.

Feeling a bit panicky after my exploits in accidentally standing people up in London, I resolved to make sure the Canadians knew I was not standing them up.  I took a tram out to the Anne Frank House, wandered around for a bit to see if I could spot them in line, then took a seat by the exit.  And waited.  And waited some more.  And read "Lord of Chaos", the 6th book of the Wheel of Time series, because why not.  (Note that I am responsible for about half of the article text on the book's Wikipedia article.)

Meanwhile, people were leaving the House.  I had no idea how long---

Okay, so, I'm sitting in a Noodles in Silver Spring right now, typing this up, and there's a 7 year old white kid sitting at a table outside a Ben & Jerry's rapping along to his iPod, complete with motions... wtf???---

they had spent waiting in line, when exactly they had given up on me and headed to the House, or how long people usually spent in the House.  Finally, at about 12:15, I worked up the courage to ask someone exiting the House when they had gotten in line.  10:15.  Okay.  Good.  I think.  Maybe?  At about 12:30, I start thinking about heading out, but just then the Canadians step out of the House.  Obviously, they seem a bit surprised to see me, but happy (though the wife keeps making alarming references to their having thought I stood them up), and we agree to go to lunch.

Luckily for me and my obsession with breakfast, the place I had found on TripAdvisor for lunch was called "Pancakes! Amsterdam".  It served, well, pancakes.  We moseyed down there, and all of us ordered authentically Dutch pancakes.  I got pancakes with muesli and blueberries, which were odd but rather delicious, and came served with one of the most delicious yogurts I've ever tasted: it was light and creamy and so whipped it was practically mousse-like in consistency.  Mmmmmm.  We chatted a bit about Amsterdam and about plans for the rest of our journeys, and I felt immensely grateful that they hadn't just shunned me.  In fact, they had waited around for just about when I arrived at the breakfast place, then kept their eye out for me - a comparison of timing shows that I must have arrived almost literally just as they were entering the House.

They weren't much museum people, so we split ways.  We agreed that getting drinks at happy hour together that night might be a good idea, but I think I underscored the fact that I was going on a tour that evening meant I wasn't completely sure about my plans well enough that when I didn't show up that night (spoiler alert) they didn't hate me.  I hope!  While they headed off to explore more of the city, I made a beeline for the museums in the southwestern part of Amsterdam.

Unfortunately for me, though, I received a nasty surprise: the Rijksmuseum, where the "big names" in Dutch painting have many of their works, was not free to me using the pass I had bought like I thought it was.  Instead, I headed to the Van Gogh museum, which was full of Van Goghs.  Sure, I appreciate him as an artist and stuff, but I found the museum rather uncompelling.  The only painting I really recognized was "Sunflowers", the painting that in print form adorns the bathrooms of many a semi-upscale hotel bathroom.  Worse yet, I couldn't take pictures, which is half the fun of visiting anything for me.

Next, I went up to the central part of the city to see if I could go to the Amsterdam Museum, but it was closing within about an hour of when I got there.  Instead, I wandered around the most touristy part of town, which was packed with shops catering to tourists.  In Amsterdam, that means a lot of t-shirts that frat bros would probably really, really like.  I ended up getting dinner from a random shop that sold sandwiches and donuts.  Have I mentioned that Europe does pastries and baked goods so much better than the US?  Because it really, really, really does.

After dinner, I went on a tour of the red light district.  Yes, that one.  Yes, this is still me.  I have not been abducted by aliens, to my knowledge.  I have not been replaced by a simulacrum.  But I figured while I was in the area I might as well see what all the fuss is about.  YOLO or something.

The tour was being offered in English and Spanish.  Entertainingly enough, the Spanish groups were twice the size of the English one, and they had to call in for reinforcements to be able to lead them all around.  I had bought my tickets online, and, after buying, was told that I ABSOLUTELY HAD TO BRING A COPY OF THE RECEIPT or else I WOULD DIE.  I had been wandering around for a while unsuccessfully trying to find an Internet cafe with a working printer to no avail, and my smartphone (with receipt included) had died during the day.  My demise was imminent.  Thankfully, though, I had written down the confirmation number on paper that morning and brought it with me, and, lo and behold, that was exactly what the tour guide needed.  I was saved!  The woman taking down confirmation numbers told me I was smart for doing so.

I was shocked by the fact that most people in the tour group I was a part of were pairs in couples going together.  There were only a couple of other single guys, one of them a neuroscience major from Tufts.  We saw the major sights and all had a great time, particularly because our tour guide was clearly a proponent of some of Amsterdam's more unique activities.  It was striking how different the atmosphere was from almost anywhere in the US; Las Vegas really doesn't compare, because there's still an air of furtiveness about it in the US. (I have no idea about Boulder and its Amsterdam-like activities because I've never been there.)

My particularly favorite site to see was the street our tour guide showed us that had some of the more interesting ladies of the night alongside one of the best concert orchestra venues in the city and one of the Christian hostels in Amsterdam that are supposed to be super laid back and immaculately clean.  We also saw Princess Juliana's childcare center in the middle of the district and coffee shops next to ice cream parlors.  It was all just so... chill.  Very Dutch, from my experience.

We ended up in an ordinary bar in the district (no, not a coffee shop; sorry to disappoint), where I got to know some of the other members of the group.  Many of them were from Australia, including a pair of newlyweds from Perth.  Like I mentioned, one of my favorite things about this trip was the international connections I was able to make - such fun!  I ended up accompanying the people back to the central train station, then catching a tram back from there to my hostel and going back to bed.  Though I was going to bed way earlier than the guys doing the "real Amsterdam experience" in my room, they were totally chill and left the room to let me sleep.  Awesomeness.