Day 2-3- Bus ride synopsis and Amsterdam

We drove several hours to arrive the coast and view the white cliffs of Dover bathed in orangish sodium-arc lamplight, thus defeating the whole "white cliffs of" thing that people always say before the word "Dover". They still managed to be pretty neat to look at, though not quite as striking as their normal white chalk faces would be, I’m sure. In any case, at Dover we boarded a ferry with the intent of crossing the English Channel.

After a ferry ride of what I think was about one hour to an hour and a half, we found ourselves in Calais not getting our passports checked. It surprised us, as we were not aware the European Union had opened up the borders that much. This was rather relieving however, as it saved us the trouble of waiting for the two dreadlocked, goateed gentlemen in our company while the customs officials undoubtedly would have rooted through their baggage and strip-searched them.

With yet more driving through the Low Countries and being introduced to Brussels and Rotterdam through the windows, we were headed into the home stretch.

As we passed a few farms and, yes, windmills (sorry, no tulips, it was still technically winter) we began doing our research on our destination city. The AAA guidebook expounded on the canal tours, the Rijksmuseum (including Rembrandt’s famous "Night Watch"), The Anne Frank house and all that sort of thing. Pretty pedestrian stuff.

Then, as though plucked straight out of Hitchhiker’s Guide To The Galaxy, the continuing story of Amsterdam from our Let’s Go book advised us that hash was a lot more popular than marijuana in Amsterdam, the local stuff is good quality and to stay away from the brownies and cookies as they may be made with low quality stuff that was cut with some weird garbage that could leave you either paralyzed or blind. Oh, and bartering for certain "services" begins at 50 guilders. We began looking for a place to ditch the AAA book.

Before we arrive in Amsterdam, I will answer the set of questions that are undoubtedly running through your minds:
- No, nobody smoked anything, aside from myself and that was just cigarettes.
- Yes, just normal cigarettes.
- With nothing aside from tobacco, no.
- No, not even Rob.
- Because Rob does law sort of stuff, Troy never knows when he may be interviewing and a nicotine addiction is enough for me, fine thanks.
- Neither did we purchase any prostitutes.
- No, not even Troy.
- No, I’m not just saying it for Mom’s sake, we really didn’t.
- Actually, some of them were pretty hot.
- Overall, the place was about as clean as any other European city.
- I mean aside from the omnipresent cigarette butts, there was really nothing grimy about it. There are simply no trashcans on the sidewalks of any European city, so you have to throw stuff out where you are able.
- Okay, the outdoor toilet did stink, but I thought Amsterdam overall was about as clean as anyplace else we visited.
- I can’t say as any of us ever felt unsafe. The back alleys and sidestreets of Amsterdam are much different than those of New Orleans in that respect.
- Don’t worry I’ll get to it during the story.

Reaching Amsterdam, it was really hammered home that we were on foreign soil. Our bus arrived at an outlying train station and we needed to get to the central station. How do we get there? Commuter train, of course. How do we get on the commuter train? Not a damned clue; none of us could read a lick of Dutch.

Luckily, most anyplace you go in Amsterdam you can find someone who speaks English. Waiters, waitresses, people who work information desks, bartenders, train conductors, passers-by, almost anybody. Pretty handy, having just come from London to have this intermediate level of English non-speaking. It was like a step-by-step introduction to foreign countries.

Anyway, we finally did end up on the train and headed into the central station and to our hostel. We were greeted near the door by some guy hawking rooms for the hotel next door. He was kind enough to inform us the hostel was closed. It was such an abominably idiotic statement I was almost ready to believe it. However, through the poundingly incomprehensible stupidity of that statement, somebody (I’m not sure if it was Troy or Rob) recommended we visit the hostel just to make sure and it was, of course, open. Who would have known? Probably the hustler next door.

We stored our junk at the hostel while we waited for our room to be vacated and went out wandering for a little bit in order to change some traveler’s checks for currency. The rates and commissions, as usual, sucked. However, we changed them all the same before setting out to walking the city.

"Where did you go?" I’m sure you are all asking. I’d love to tell you, but I wasn’t too sure myself. I remember walking over and next to several canals and bridges, many of them drawbridges, but that is approximately as useful as describing your location in Los Angeles as "near the burrito place". We saw a large area of Amsterdam, I’m just not sure what was in it, what any of it was nor if any of it was somehow important. However, we did see canals and a lot of tall, narrow, agonizingly quaint rowhouses, another staple of Amsterdam scenery. Later that evening we realized we had walked through the red-light district, but did not realize it at the time as it is simply not that evident during the daylight hours. Children could be dragged through the area during the day and even their natural criminal instincts would not detect they were in an area that would embarrass the hell out of Mom and Dad if they asked them to explain what was going on.

We hit a restaurant for lunch and decided to have whatever we could find that might count as Dutch cuisine. So, along with our Heinekens we were introduced to a foodstuff I believe was called a "kroket". It was supposed to have meat in it, I think. No luck there. As far as I could tell, it was chicken gravy (at best, cream of chicken soup) that had somehow been formed into a sausage-like tube shape, breaded until it had a solid enough case to hold everything in, then deep-fried. There really isn’t anything I can add to describing lunch as "deep-fried chicken gravy" because that’s just much too funny on its own.

Soon after, we showered and napped then wandered the streets some more. We visited a bar to figure out where to go next in Amsterdam (it was not entirely unlike Hooter’s, only less tasteful), and we then decided to wander around Haarlem, and area that is historical for some reason I cannot remember. I seem to remember it had something to do with World War II. Maybe Troy knows.

As expected, we saw more canals, more bridges and more rowhouses that are probably older than Jamestown, Virginia. That and a lot of houseboats. It seems that a houseboat in a canal is a pretty popular way to live in Amsterdam, as the canals were absolutely lined with the things in this district. It seems like a pretty neat way to live, aside from the constant upkeep and apparently obscene taxes levied against houseboat owners.

We grabbed a meal in this same area before heading back to our hostel, as we had yet to figure out what city to visit the next day.

To make a long story short, after fighting with three different maps of European train connections we figured on Berlin to Prague and then splitting up in Prague, mostly because Rob said, "Hey, let’s go to Berlin." Either way, I adjourned myself to go return the maps and schedules and use the loo. I, of course, returned to see Troy and Rob playing pool with the women we were checking out earlier. I dealt with this in the usual manner, that of shaking my head with disbelief and thinking that Troy needs to be hosed down at some point.

So, after several pages of pointless asides, we are off and out for the evening! And where do you go out for the evening in Amsterdam? I think you can guess.