Amsterdam Antics

I’m getting better, at flying that is. Deep breaths in and out as the plane rumbled all around me. But still I couldn’t help my hands from clutching the edge of my seat as I felt myself being pushed back into it. The engines roared and we were off, hurtling along the runway at a million miles an hour, or at least it felt like that anyway. “No tears this time” David complimented as Manchester fell away beneath us whilst we climbed high into the sky. I was very proud of myself I must say and on this short flight to the Netherlands no sooner had we finished climbing than we were on our way back down again. I hadn’t realised just how close we were and just over an hour later we touched down at Eindhoven Airport. “Eindhoven?” I hear you ask, yes well that would be because I am a very inexperienced traveller and didn’t know any different when I booked our flights. Yep, only I could decide to visit Amsterdam and end up in an airport over 100 miles away. Stop laughing at me… I know you are, I can feel you smiling as you’re reading this. An easy solution to my small problem, a not so short coach trip across country pre-booked before we left saw our journey continue by road. Oh well, it all adds to the experience I guess. The coach was large and comfortable with only half a dozen passengers or so making it a pleasant and relaxing journey. The Dutch countryside was exquisitely picturesque from our elevated position and as we neared our destination a huge glowing sun was beginning to set on the horizon leaving red and orange streaks across the skyline. So we finally made it to the city of Amsterdam, tired, excited and in the dark. Once we’d safely retrieved our trolley bags from the stomach of the coach we stood for a moment taking in our surroundings. Now all we had to do was find our hotel. Ha! There was our first challenge. Neither of us had any idea where we were or which direction we should be going so after asking a complete stranger (who didn’t speak English very well at all) directions to The Hotel Di Ann on Raadhuisstraat we set off. Yep, you guessed it, we were off on foot now eagerly walking in the wrong direction. Thankfully it wasn’t long before David, who had visited the city once before realised and turned us around heading back in the direction we had just come. Thank the lord for smart phones. With both our patience running a little thin, David’s suggestion that I use the sat nav built into my mobile phone soon had us on the right tracks. Why didn’t you just do that before? I hear you ask, well that’s because I’m not very good with technology and didn’t realise that my phone would be able to locate me in a foreign country. Derr! I mean after all, I didn’t know where I was so how on earth could my phone know? Now armed with an electronic guide we were on the move again following the glowing blue blob on my phone. The city was alive with activity as we walked along the narrow streets that bordered the canals. Pleasant sounds of music and laughter spilled from the bars, restaurants and gift shops as we passed, the aroma of fine cuisine filling the air around us making our hungry stomachs grumble in protest. Still we walked, the blue blob on my phone sending us deeper into the heart of the city. Before long the scent on the street was a different one, pungent and distinctive as we passed by a coffee shop. Yeah, that’s why many people come to Amsterdam, to sample the wares, legally smoke weed in the notorious coffee shops and tonight was no exception. The strong scent of the grassy substance seeped out onto the streets around us. This was going to be one interesting city break. At last the blue blob had us reaching our destination, The Hotel Di Ann, and after locating the entrance on street level we were faced with our next challenge, one huge and very steep staircase leading up to the hotel. Now for those of you who have been to Amsterdam you will already know that the buildings here are both tall and narrow, something I wasn’t to learn about until tomorrow. My husband however, who as I said earlier had been before seemed to have forgotten all about that nugget of information. Two floors up and fifty six stairs later we finally made it to our room. Yep that’s one hundred and twelve stairs round trip every time I wanted a cigarette. Yikes, either I was going to get very fit or feel the need to give up smoking. We dumped our bags, grabbed a map from the reception desk and we were off on our first adventure. Unsure as to where we should go first, went in search of some fast food to satisfy our growing hunger. We’d barely made it a few hundred yards from the hotel when we had our first encounter with a street dealer. Yes, the notice in the hotel reception warning its guests not to buy drugs from them had us nervously turning down the shady looking guy at his offer of cocaine, hurrying along without a backward glance. Before long we spotted the familiar golden arches and made a pit stop for a McDonald’s burger and fries. With our appetites sated we continued on into the night. Eventually we hit the Red Light District immediately seeing where it got its name. Doorways lit by red lights where scantily dressed women displayed themselves from behind closed doors. I was taken aback by the sheer blatant solicitation of these beautiful young women wondering to myself why they would sell themselves in this way. For the money of course! The streets were littered with tourists, the varied tongue of conversations mingled with the music spilling out from the bars, restaurants and shops. All of this activity oddly nestled neatly on the narrow streets that bordered the network of canals illuminated by the different coloured lighting all around us. Sex was for sale everywhere, shops selling toys, girls selling themselves with countless peep shows or live sex shows on offer for all those who preferred a little voyeurism. I could barely believe what I was seeing, never had I experienced anything quite like this. My shock even more apparent when a young lad approached a doorway only to be enticed in by the beautiful woman inside. People passing by watched on as he entered the room without shame leaving his mates jeering him on from the pavement outside.

We sat for a while enjoying our alcoholic beverage outside a bar next to the canal and watched while we rested our aching feet. Oh yeah, did I mention I was still wearing my four inch heeled boots! Never had I seen such a diverse mix of people in such a place. Young, old, couples, groups, all wandering around taking in the experience in their own private way. My own thoughts remaining on those women in the doorways, what brought them to a place like this and why they would exploit themselves in this way? I wondered what stories they may have to tell, what life was like for them here in Amsterdam’s red light district. A new day dawned on Amsterdam and the sun was shining as we left the hotel refreshed and ready to explore again, my high heeled boots left behind with my feet now in comfy pumps. The church bells chimed from the ornate spire at the end of Raadhuisstraat as we took in the beauty of the city around us. Oddly it didn’t feel like a city, the many canals lined with trees making it feel more like the countryside, except there were no fields, just building after building. Each one unique to the next, tall and beautifully crafted from pavement to rooftop. We took a welcome break resting our already tired feet for a coffee at Barney’s. Oops, we’d entered a coffee shop, the unique smell of weed consuming us. Well, when in Rome. I couldn’t visit Amsterdam and not experience a coffee shop now could I? Chilled reggae music played from the speakers as we took our seats and waited for the waitress to take our order of coffee. My eyes searched the dingy space around me, a counter filled with every conceivable type of marihuana available for purchase right here beside me. I sat and watched while we drank our coffees as customer after customer wandered in off the street to purchase their chosen variety. Perhaps the Dutch have got this right, perfectly managed, taxed and safe for those who wished to smoke more than just tobacco alone, which I might add was forbidden in any premises. It seemed odd looking at no smoking signs while all around me people smoked their joints. After coffee we decided on an early lunch come late breakfast so set off again wandering through the streets in no apparent direction finding ourselves on Damrak Square. After satisfying our hunger and feeling at home with bacon, eggs, sausage and beans we wandered across the street to where a choice of canal cruises were available. We paid our fare and took our seats. The boat, with all its passengers safely on board began its cruise of the canals of Amsterdam, the captain adding humorous dialect over the voice of the recorded tourist information which translated in four languages. Seeing the city from this alternative perspective gave it a new dimension, the buildings seeming taller still looming above us. Each one was ornately decorated and individual to the next. This was when I learned the reason for them having being built in this way, the window tax making for tall and narrow structures. I imagined this place would be an architect’s paradise. Some were taller than others, some leaning out more than the next making their frontages create an uneven screen of uniqueness. I snapped pictures as we passed them by turning to capture the illusion from the tunnels we left behind. Apparently Amsterdam previously had a housing crisis causing many residents to take to the canals choosing house boats as their humble abode. This was something I could quite easily imagine myself doing, living on the canal in my very own houseboat.

They truly were incredible, little floating homes that one could move from place to place. Once back on solid ground we took to the streets once more drinking in our surroundings, meandering along just looking and watching as life passed us by. Did I say before I was now in comfy pumps? Well I lied, my feet were killing me and David’s too. Having stopped off for yet another coffee, sitting out on the street we watched the world go by chatting with a fellow Englishman visiting the city with his mother and who was clearly making the most of the ability to smoke weed freely as they sat smoking their joints in public view.

Finding ourselves back at our hotel we took a welcome break stopping off for an afternoon nap to recharge our batteries and change my shoes. When we awoke it was dark, both of us having slept for longer than we’d expected and both with rumbling stomachs. It was raining out and soon we found an Argentinian Steak House where we could shelter from the cool damp night and satisfy our hunger on steak and ribs. I do believe Amsterdam is renowned for its Steak Houses and this one was no exception. Our meal was delicious and the red wine went down easily complimenting the steak beautifully. Once we’d had our fill we were back out into the night enjoying the sights and the hustle and bustle of the city. It almost seemed a shame that we had eaten as we came across numerous bakeries and patisseries all displaying tasty treats tempting us despite the meal we had just consumed. Supper, hmm, yeah, a late night snack for when we got back to the hotel. We came across yet more shops offering kink and bondage. We stopped to look into one shop window and I gasped at what I saw. At first glance it looked like some kind of battery charged drill, the large plastic yellow handle giving it the look of a power tool, oh no, on closer inspection it was a pneumatic dildo. Now I’ve seen some things in my time and believe me I am no prude but this, this was beyond anything I had ever clapped eyes on and the laughter from the couple stood just behind us who were equally shocked at the sight of it had us all in a state of hysteria as we continued on. Several hours later and having consumed a fair amount of alcohol in a bar we’d found just off from the Red Light District we made our way cheerfully back to the hotel with our supper as agreed from the bakery we’d come across earlier. Eating before bed, I hear you say, yeah well we were on holiday after all and a late night snack to soak up the alcohol was just what was needed to ensure a hangover free morning the next day.

We slept in later today allowing ourselves time to recover from the antics of the previous night. David’s feet were already blistered and I was confined to my high heeled boots as the thought of my not so comfortable pumps was too daunting to bare. Oh well at least my boots were comfortable. Today we set off in a different direction, a new sight around every corner. We passed through the Red Light District briefly just to see what it was like by day and yes you guessed it wasn’t much different from the night except the lights did not glow the same and there were no reflections from the water. However, life here was pretty much the same. The same girls stood in their doorways, still dressed in sexy lingerie. More of the shops were open for people to purchase whatever their hearts desired to spice up their sex lives or just have a little fun. The queue for the theatre showing continuous porn seemed shorter now but still people stood in line waiting to go inside. And once again I was amazed at the diversity of the audience it attracted. We ate lunch in the square by The Weigh House in the glorious sunshine before wandering further afield.

We’d already passed the magnificent building of the Royal Palace and the monument opposite and as we passed by yet another church with an amazing steeple we neared Rembrandt House. It was raining, the earlier sunny skies now dull and grey so stopping off for shelter in Rembrandt Square we relaxed with another coffee while we dried off and rested our feet. This particular coffee shop was busy and buzzing inside giving a feeling of night not day. Dimmed lights and funky music played as customers came and went, some stopping to smoke the weed while others went on their way. I laughed again at the ridiculousness of the No Smoking rule while all around were rolling joints and smoking the weed. But hey, it smelled quite nice and the coffee was great, with the atmosphere calm and relaxed. Actually being in here seemed somehow more pleasant than being in a noisy pub filled with alcohol fuelled emotions. Still raining we carried on further into the unknown, we walked along the flower market selling every conceivable variety of tulip bulbs known to man. Everywhere around us were incredible buildings, home to the Rijksmuseum, Diamond museum, Van Gough museum. Even the shopping centres were homed within ornately decorated buildings. Amsterdam is truly the place to visit for anyone who loves to look at historical buildings and architecture, something I wasn’t expecting to see, ignorant as to what this city had to offer.

Having walked for many hours along numerous different streets and canals, each sight unlike the next we came to rest in a restaurant back in the heart of the city close to Damrak Square. Back into familiar territory, the church spires our guiding landmarks, we indulged again on the best steak I think I’ve ever tasted. As we retired for the night exhausted and with aching limbs I couldn’t help but wonder what it would be like to live in city like this. Trams trundled past us while the many cyclists rang their bells to clear their way, yes, even at night the streets were littered with cycles clearly the most popular method of transport throughout the whole city. Literally hundreds of them parked on the bridges, at the canal side and generally anywhere they could be securely attached to a post or rail. You couldn’t help but wonder how anyone could remember which was theirs they were all so similar in design and colour. With heavy legs we climbed the fifty six stairs to our room to rest our aching limbs befor our final morning and journey home. A gloriously bright and sunny morning greeted us as we checked out of the hotel, trolley bags once more our companions as we walked along now familiar routes to take us back to where the coach would collect us. With a couple of hours to spare we did a little last minute shopping then rested for a coffee break, sitting in the sunshine outside the bar on the corner of the road looking out towards Amsterdam’s Central Station. The roads were busy here near the station, bicycles, cars, buses and trams passed by while pedestrians waited patiently for the way to clear. The warmth of the sun felt soothing, relaxing as we finished our drinks before dragging our luggage across the busy junction to where our coach was to pull up to take us back to Eindhoven Airport for our flight back home.

A different perspective on the drive back to the airport as David and I reflected on our time in Amsterdam. The sights we’d seen, the experience of the unusual city we’d spent the last couple of days in. How our feet and legs still ached and how our stomachs had hurt with laughter. The coffee shops and the beautiful architecture of the place. But more importantly the diversity of its visitors and the laid back atmosphere, a place where people of all ages, race and gender had too embarked on their own private adventure. A place that we were sure to visit again.