In what
universe is it possible, that, in a 12 dorm room at a youth hostel, that only
11 people wake up because of a very loud alarm at 6 in the morning? And in what
universe is it fair, that of the 11 people that wake up, none of those are the
actual owner of the intrusive alarm? Dice, this happened AGAIN in Amsterdam as
it did in America, but this time with 11 people. When all 11 people are
grunting and sitting up in their beds but the poor sod who’s alarm is going
nuts is still fast asleep, there has to be some injustice in the world.
But, then
again, judging by the state of the hostel I was staying in, I couldn’t really
be too surprised. In a scale of hostel-rating; the sheets were stained, the
shower was full with mould, the bathroom was a single non-air-ventilated room,
the heating was scarce and the smell of marijuana and smoke had seeped into every
porous object in the hostel. The staff seemed to be a, rather, errr…slow shall I say. The simplest of tasks
seemed to take them a long time to thoroughly think through, of which then they
would slowly and inadequately perform. But I suppose their spaced out attitude
was understood as soon as you gave any attention to their eyes.
Nonetheless,
since Serena had eventually stopped being a permanent resident by my bed and
plodded on home last night, I was NOW UP EARLY and so I braved the weather to
head to The Royal Theatre and the notorious Skinny Bridge.
Then,
meeting up with Kirsten for lunch, we headed to a café for a bite to eat and
Heineken, WHICH, is actually a Dutch beer.
Amsterdam
feels like a home away from home. I’m so far removed from everything, and I’ve
scarcely been contactable, and I’ve been busy with meeting people and
formulating plans. I don’t feel homesick at all, and I thought I may have been
ready to go home, but turns out I’m not quite. I’ve still got many more people
to see and places to travel. The time Kirsten and I spent at college together
has made it feel like we’ve been friends for a lot longer. We lived together,
she was just down the hall from me, we often ate together, cooking in someone’s
apartment, or at the dining hall. We partied together, went to events together,
travelled to different states together. When you live and breathe with someone,
the time means something more, and I’m so glad to have been able to spend the
day with her. After lunch we went to ‘The Dungeon’ which is an interactive
museum with actors and such, that goes through Amsterdam’s history with a
‘spooky’ touch. We sure were spooked alright. We shopped and gossiped, before
eating Dutch pea soup for dinner at a Dutch restaurant. I had booked us a
couple of tickets for an evening boat cruise around the canals, as Kirsten said
that if there was one way to see Amsterdam…that was it.
The
lights of the city reflecting on the water was the perfect way to end my time
in Amsterdam. The canals are lit up with lights, and the river houses line the
canals, of which you get a peep into the lives of the rich and famous who chill
out in the million-dollar residences. We passed all the houseboats, which to me
seems like such a way to live; floating on the water, in fully-equipped modern
apartments, of average size, with electricity, gas and all you could hope for.
They’ve got little garden decks on the water, and pot plants often adorn the
roofs. They pay ‘rent’ for the space in the canal which they occupy, and to me,
it seems just wonderful. So sweet. We passed the cars parked dangerously close
to the water’s edge…did I mention that apparently on average one car a week
falls into the canals in Amsterdam?!
After our
romantic waterside adventure, I couldn’t help but formulate a hundred new
travel adventures in my head, all of which involved boats and/or houseboats. I
suppose one could say that I had been inspired.
Our day
was still not over. Kirsten showed me an old, vintage cinema in Amsterdam, that
had traditional theatrical-building style halls and a fabulous foyer, so armed
with popcorn we headed in for a movie around 10pm. (‘American Hustle’, if
anybody cares to know).
After
midnight it was a trudge back to the train station, and then suddenly, standing
on the road in the middle of Amsterdam – it was time to say goodnight my
friend.
 |
| Night cruising |
Kirsten,
if you read this, I hope you know how much I appreciate you taking all the time
to hang out with me, and just how much fun I’ve had with you in Amsterdam.
You’re brilliant beyond imaginable, and I feel blessed to have met you~
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