Amsterdam, The Netherlands
The promise to myself was that I couldn't re-read Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman until I had this bad boy online... so here we are kiddies. Thank my numerous pagan dieties if you will. It is Amsterdam, a city of wooden shoes, a serious and devout love for the bicycle and THE sexiest place I've ever been! Maybe it's best that the little people don't read this in depth.
Having made this stop towards the tail end of my big Dorito Tour of western Europe and Morocco, mostly because I had a friend in the Netherlands I'd promised to visit back in 2011, I can honestly say it was a decision wisely made. The original plan was to devote three whole days here after leaving Marrakech but when in Madrid I realised that three days didn't feel right; I was being cheap.
So, after making a few changes to my domino effect prone itinerary and giving the finger to Ryanair, I had myself a flight with Iberia booked and paid for. It was only once I'd landed at Schipol that I realised these changes were SO DAM WORTH IT! See what I did there?
After reuniting with my friend and her family outside of the city (Athena, I will make more time for you next time. I SWEAR!) I saw what there was to get lost in. There's plenty in case you were wondering.
This is a city built on water, or 're-claimed land' as they call it, which immediately had my interest. The canals I especially enjoyed so DO A RIVER CRUISE! Galleries are in steady supply, such as the Van Gogh Museum and the Rijksmuseum, and Dam Square which I found to be pleasant and a joy to walk through. You might even spot the odd group of anarchists going to town.
Feeling safe here is a constant. I went out a couple of times at night which isn't in my nature (more on that soon) and I was surprised to learn that SO many of the Dutch are bilingual. When I found out that they're taught English from a young age (old girls at the train station returning from Peru are a valuable source of intel) I knew everything would be a lot easier. Having spent the previous fourish weeks surviving on my limited Spanish, Arabic and French, which at one point brought out the worst in me, you can understand that I was feeling pretty elevated.
Upon completion of a free walking tour (I can't understand why the guide chose THE noisiest places to speak at or to hold up a bottle of water to show us where to go) I was set to see the dam city for myself. There I go again; my second hostel has lot to answer for.
Aside from an abundance of souvenir shops selling little bears dressed as dominatrixes and stoners, these here are some of what I enjoyed most about Amsterdam.
First and foremost, I consider it a blasphemy to swing by without seeing the Anne Frank House. Seriously, I do. It's one of those experiences that need to be had. However, thanks to some poor planning I failed to book a ticket online several years in advance. However (yep, that's the word of the day), thanks to a lack of sleep your good Sheep here was able to score the first spot in line which is a monstrocity of a creation. However (don't hate me now), the conversations with randoms were good and free WiFi made the line all the more bearable.
Going through the house itself was one of THE most surreal experiences of my life, I kid you not. Whilst it's almost been stripped bare of furniture and other homely features, one is almost left feeling there's limited space to move around in.
One of THE most significant voices in history was spoken within those walls and I was definitely on edge about stepping out of line. Seeing the diary itself was jaw dropping and I made the decision then and there to read it. I've been following the education activist Malala Yousafzai for many years now and it was here that I made the obvious realisation that before Malala, there was Anne Frank. The words of an opressed youth are a powerful instrument.
Very close to the Anne Frank House, and I mean spitting distance but don't go doing that, you will come across the Homomonument stretching out over one of the many canals. Whilst it's no secret that the Jews were persecuited by the Nazis, it was up until recently that I'd learnt very little (at least to me) had been shared about what was done to the LGBT victims of the holocaust.
Amsterdam certainly isn't shy about its pride (rainbow flags are in steady supply) and the Homomonument is its tribute to the men and women of LGBT orientation opressed by Adolf Hitler. Please, if and when here, put some time aside to go see it.
Now upon my return some coworkers, and even a few of the parents of the children I teach to swim, have come to ask how my sex and drugs tour went. Did I or didn't I try some weed? Having now welcomed this joke with a WTF look I can say that I didn't go dabbling. Amsterdam is very laid back when it comes to prostitution and marijuana, a given and a prominent reason as to why so many tourists make the visit (I shared a dorm with several who kept going 'I wanna get high').
I did stumble into a coffee shop, Bulldogs it was called, and noticed bowls of brown stuff on the tables but that's as far as it went. The Dutch aren't in your face about it and for all it's a choice. Hell, the Dutch don't even like it I'd learnt. That said I am in awe of how easy it is for me to come across the stuff without even trying.
And here we are talking about the Red Light District. Originally it wasn't at the top of my list before visiting. IT. WASN'T! I'd found myself with so much time to use up though. Since walking tours of the sex worker epicentre were available I signed up and found it impossible not to laugh. My guide never stopped dropping the one liners. It was on this night I learnt that Amsterdam has an odd perception of what a rabbit's genitalia looks like and that there's porn available to youths 18 years and under. NOT. KIDDING.
Walking with a unique mix, one of which was a Canadian in her 50s who was determined to see a peep show (husband on wife action was showing so I wasn't game), we got a lot of stories and women in windows waving at us. Twas nice. If you're traveling alone I definitely recommend one of these tours. Amongst the red lights, a Christian hostel (there's a story behind it but I've forgotton) and the tribute to the sex worker we weren't left disappointed.
That's the case with this city, it WON'T disappoint. I've a history of spending little time in large settings because I often get bored after a few days but exceptions have been made. After my time here I'm ready to see more; the decision's been set in stone. I want to keep going through the Netherlands one day because of how safe I feel there. Hell if I had the funds I'd live here and get a novel going.
GO. TO. THIS. CITY! I've never been more honest kiddies. Never!
The promise to myself was that I couldn't re-read Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman until I had this bad boy online... so here we are kiddies. Thank my numerous pagan dieties if you will. It is Amsterdam, a city of wooden shoes, a serious and devout love for the bicycle and THE sexiest place I've ever been! Maybe it's best that the little people don't read this in depth.
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
So, after making a few changes to my domino effect prone itinerary and giving the finger to Ryanair, I had myself a flight with Iberia booked and paid for. It was only once I'd landed at Schipol that I realised these changes were SO DAM WORTH IT! See what I did there?
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
This is a city built on water, or 're-claimed land' as they call it, which immediately had my interest. The canals I especially enjoyed so DO A RIVER CRUISE! Galleries are in steady supply, such as the Van Gogh Museum and the Rijksmuseum, and Dam Square which I found to be pleasant and a joy to walk through. You might even spot the odd group of anarchists going to town.
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
From my hostel in Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
One of THE most significant voices in history was spoken within those walls and I was definitely on edge about stepping out of line. Seeing the diary itself was jaw dropping and I made the decision then and there to read it. I've been following the education activist Malala Yousafzai for many years now and it was here that I made the obvious realisation that before Malala, there was Anne Frank. The words of an opressed youth are a powerful instrument.
Very close to the Anne Frank House, and I mean spitting distance but don't go doing that, you will come across the Homomonument stretching out over one of the many canals. Whilst it's no secret that the Jews were persecuited by the Nazis, it was up until recently that I'd learnt very little (at least to me) had been shared about what was done to the LGBT victims of the holocaust.
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
Now upon my return some coworkers, and even a few of the parents of the children I teach to swim, have come to ask how my sex and drugs tour went. Did I or didn't I try some weed? Having now welcomed this joke with a WTF look I can say that I didn't go dabbling. Amsterdam is very laid back when it comes to prostitution and marijuana, a given and a prominent reason as to why so many tourists make the visit (I shared a dorm with several who kept going 'I wanna get high').
I did stumble into a coffee shop, Bulldogs it was called, and noticed bowls of brown stuff on the tables but that's as far as it went. The Dutch aren't in your face about it and for all it's a choice. Hell, the Dutch don't even like it I'd learnt. That said I am in awe of how easy it is for me to come across the stuff without even trying.
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
Amsterdam, The Netherlands (taken 2016)
