HiBAiSHi

About a week ago I went to a birthday party and had names scribbled on my arm when I woke up, along with the word “Amsterdam.” The name alongside it was Jesse, a UCSC transfer who is now parties hard at UCSB – who I found out knew a former asian figure skating prodigy that I have known since middle school. Small world.

Anyway I took two 11 hour bus trips in two days, but maybe because my legs are so short and I always figure out ways to make myself drowsy – they don’t really affect me that much. Jesse and Robin told me (and showed me later) that when they got to their ferry, they decided to buy a 24 pack of Stella’s to make the ride shorter. Personally, I hate getting up and going to the bathroom all the time so I don’t usually try that. An odd thing I found out, to go across the channel, a bus drives onto a train and has the train go across. For some reason that’s really strange to me. My guess is that it has something to do with there maybe not being enough lights underneath, but I’m not sure.

I arrived pretty early in the morning and found out that the coach station and the my hostel were on opposite sides of town and that I was supposed to be right in the middle later. And that the metro is very small in Amsterdam and you really need to go on trams to get anywhere.

After a long check-in process I met up with Zach and Kirsten, a girl from the U that seems to get along and enjoy traveling with Zach, which is impressive I guess. We went to the Van Gogh museum to meet up with Jesse and Robin. They have these video message things that you can e-mail to people (we live in such a hi-tech age) that I thought I would send my parents. Of course, my mother seemed to be angry and quickly asked about everything I did there. Probably a poor decision to send out to my parents.

We went to a coffee shop afterwards and ate at Maoz, which must have been the best falafel I have ever had. Ever. The long bus ride and the fact that most European cities don’t offer tap water – combined with my current efforts of drinking 2 liters of water a day – made my mouth really dry. Like cobwebs in my mouth, it was weird. Afterward I had a desert. I’ve been thinking that when I go back and I have an oven, I am going to make myself brownies and cookies more often. I don’t really eat desert very much, except when I get around to buying fruit.

At night we walked around the red light district and did some window shopping. Not really. It’s weird how short some of them are (fun sized!), and how big and black some of the other ones are. If it’s true that it is around 100 euros a day to rent a window, do these people actually make money? I mean I know it’s usually eastern european women who have no other choice, but many don’t seem to be profitable – some are downright hideous women who don’t even try. After some chinese food, we later found ourselves sitting in a bar looking out the window and cheering whenever a curtain closed and someone was getting paid. We’re supportive people.

We walked around a little more and did a tour of the Erotic Museum, which because of the pornographic cartoons alone was worthwhile. I think. I’m not that sure. After returning to Zach and Kirsten’s hostel, I tried out this thing called the Amsterdam Maximator, which to this point has to have been the worst thing I have ever tasted. Wow.

Somewhere during this time somebody figured out a club that we could get into for free, but I must have been very tired because everybody told me that I was dancing as if I was in slow motion, completely out of it. Must have been the long bus ride that got me all knackered. But because of that I left a little bit early and it took me way too long to get back and find the night bus (I have no idea how much time passed). I believe I left the club at around 1 and I got back at about 3. There were bags that other people left on my bed but I just decided to spoon them because I had no energy to move them.

On Sunday it was raining and miserable so we went to the Anne Frank house. It’s kind of depressing. There was nothing to do so we went to a coffee house to warm up, because none of us really wanted to spend more money going through the hundreds of museums in Amsterdam. And the Heineken Experience was closed so I didn’t get to take the obligatory picture of me playing the drums. Too bad. That’s it I guess, I spent the last of my euros on a cake and a muffin for the bus ride home. You know, in case I got hungry.