Amsterdam

The scenario: A group of five rents a car and travels to Amsterdam to see a city of live and let live philosophy where the people have a sparkle in their eyes, most likely because of the pot they smoke.

Characters: Eric (yours truly), Valentin, Shola, Ileana, and Aurelieus

The story:
As always, or at least most of the time, or at least in my stories anyway, it started in the morning. We met in front of the gate at Airbus at about 8am. 8am is a much better start time for travel than 5am, but I knew I had problems as soon as Ileana pulled up with the car. Note to self: never let the shortest person in the group rent the car. The car was a BMW one series; it was a nice, small, hatchback/station wagon crossover, but a little too small for someone 6’5”. Anyway, we hit the road, and showed up at the campground in Amsterdam around four hours after departure. Did I mention that we would be staying in tents? There’s no better place to experience hippy-land than at a campground. The campground was only a campground in the sense that you put a tent up there, and then only if you could find a space. Everything is small there. The cabins at the place had the foot print of a car (an American car) and were tall enough that I think you could stand up in it, but I’m not sure. Well, some of us could stand up in them. At least the cabins were colorful. But we weren’t staying in the mini-cabins; we brought tents. So, after staking out a spot amidst the sea of rip-stop nylon, we built our temporary dwellings and deemed them worthy of accommodating us.

Next on the list was to rent some bikes and tour the town. Little did I know, I would be taking my very life in my hands on that bicycle. In retrospect, they should have been offering life insurance policies at the rental place instead of bike theft insurance. Here’s why: the bike paths, unlike where I’ve been in Germany, are not only for bikes. In Amsterdam the bike paths are full of pedestrians, mopeds, bikes, and cars the size of ovens. Not to mention the cars and trams while crossing the streets. And while we managed to avoid all of those dangers, Shola managed to run into a sign and bend the basket on his bike, and then later run into Aurelieus. I havn’t laughed so hard in quite a long time. Thankfully, nobody was seriously injured. Shola just broke his leg, and Aurelieus his wrist.
I think there are more canals in Amsterdam than in Venice, but don’t quote me on that. We rode up and down streets lined with quaint houses on one side and canals on the other. The golden sun glinted off of warm clay tiles on the roofs while birds sang in gently swaying trees. A mother rocked her baby on a nearby wooden bench. The water lapped quietly against the earthen and brick edges of the canal. A tender song that would have stopped Odysseus floated sweetly out of an upper window and drifted down to the people below. And then there was me, crying, because everything was so beautiful.

So, we biked through the city, along nice side streets, and through some parks. In one of the parks we stopped for a bit to listen to a live jazz band that was playing. I laid down on the grass in the sun and closed my eyes – quite nice. When I got up, I had the feeling that I wasn’t going to like tomorrow morning after a night in the tent on the hard ground. We then continued to ride our bikes some more. My butt was really sore by the end of the day. I mean really sore. I will continue to be straight for the rest of my life.

We ate dinner at this rip-off place that didn’t have either of the specials that they advertised outside. I was entirely disappointed with the restaurant. After that, we went to a coffee house, had a cup of coffee, and watched the people walk by. Valentin had eaten dinner with his parents, who coincidently happened to be in Amsterdam for the weekend (they are from France), and so wasn’t with us at the time. By the time we met up with him, it was getting to be later. We had a drink while we rested our feet, and then decided to take a walk though the red light district.
The red light district was a place of no shame. Where we went, there were two main streets that lined either side of a canal, and narrower side streets branched off of those streets. The narrower streets were lined with glass doors where prostitutes would show off their wares, usually wearing several inches of cloth altogether. Some of the doors would have a curtain drawn, meaning occupied. Mostly, the girls in the windows would just present themselves, but some would motion for guys to come in, or even open the door to call in someone who had been looking but not buying. Along the main street were live porno shows, sex shops, and more glass doors. People would be lined up for the shows out onto the street as if they were just waiting in line at the local movie theater. The fact that everything was so normalized was really bizarre. I shall not need or want to go back to that place.

So, we rode a fair distance back to the campground and finally hit the ground hard after a long and tiring day. It started raining during the night, it was cold, and there was only a thin blanket between me and the ground. Maybe I got four hours of sleep that night. Anyway, packing up the wet tents in the light rain the next day was not much fun either. After packing up, we drove into the city, found a parking place, and took the tram to the Van Gogh museum.
I really enjoyed the museum. I learned a bit more about Vincent Van Gogh, and saw some quality paintings. Van Gogh died when he was 37. What a short life. Often poor, he had to live with the support of his parents or younger brother, who was an art dealer and would sell his paintings. I was able to see the shift in Van Gogh’s paintings as he developed as a painter. His beginning paintings used a limited number of dark colors, and later on, with the encouragement of his brother, shifted to brighter colors and scenarios. While not always being accurate as far as maintaining a certain perspective and capturing the physical reality correctly, his focus was on catching the atmosphere of a situation. My favorite painting was one of his earlier works. I can’t remember the title exactly, but I think it was something like “the house.” It brought me back to a cool day in autumn. The sun had just set, but there was still just enough light to see. In the center was an old wooden house, with no light inside. A strong breeze bent a large tree that had just a few remaining leaves on it. The air would be dry, and the fields barren, but it would still be a satisfying day. I would want to go walking with thick socks and a warm jacket. What a picture.

And then we went home.

But not straight home of course. On the way back, we took an unintentional detour towards a city south of Bremen that ended up adding about two hours to the trip. The end.

Berlin, Fri 3.7.2009 - Sun 5.7.2009

-Berlin with Chris and Shola-

For those who don’t know, Chris is the guy that came here with me from school, and Shola is the guy that works down the hall from me at Airbus. Add me, and that makes three. And it was we three that went wee, wee, wee, all the way to Berlin. Ok, I’m finished.

Did I mention that it took me seven hours to get home from Berlin on the first trip? An extra hour was added due to the fact that the train at one of the stops didn’t take us all the way to the main train station. We had to walk to the nearest tram stop, transfer from the tram to a bus, transfer from the bus to the U-bahn, and then finally arrive at the main station where we could wait until the next train came. It was cheaper to take the slower trains, but seven hours?

When Chris, Shola, and I went, we used our rail passes, so it only took 3 and ½ hours. I’ll do a quick summary of the weekend at Berlin with Chris and Shola, and then move on to the most recent weekend travel spot, Amsterdam.

After doing the normal information gathering and hostel check-in, we headed out for the sights. We went to the Brandenburg Tor, which I had seen the previous weekend, but there are always new things to appreciate. This time the east side of the gate was blocked off for some fancy governmental occasion, while on the west side was the finish line and after party of a running race and a rollerblading race. There were booths set up all along the street going away from the Tor, most of them were food and information booths, but there was also a stage with some live music. The thing that set the whole situation apart as a German activity was the refreshment after the race. What else would they serve, but beer? Ok, so it was alcohol free beer, but still it was beer. After the finish line there were long tables crowded with masses of sweaty people edging up to grab their alcohol free beer. It warms my heart just to think of it. Later that evening, when Chris and I were headed to the Reichstag for a look around the inside, we passed the tables, and upon seeing empty lines yet still beer left on the table we had no other choice but to sample the local brew. It quenched the thirst quite nicely.

Between our hostel and the nearest tram stop there was this donner place (where you can grab a quick bite of gyro style sandwiches or half a chicken) that we would frequent as we went to and from the hostel. It became our breakfast, lunch, and dinner. The food was good, but the guy behind the counter had a frown that would make a child cry. I almost cried as I looked at him. I think he was sad because he was frustrated with his lot in life. Maybe one day he will cast of his lot and chase his dreams. Anyways, the price was right, so we stopped by there often. It was Saturday morning when we stopped there and I got the unforgettable container of milk. The container was plastic and looked like a yogurt container. I think it had some German words that even resembled the word yogurt, but inside was like nothing I had ever tasted. The flavor, if you could call it that, was like milk flavored pickle brine. I took a sip and almost spewed. I really don’t know what kind of creature would choose to digest such a concoction.

That afternoon we went through the Jewish Museum. Of course, a large portion covered the holocaust- a kind of big deal in the Jew’s history in Germany, or anywhere for that matter. However, it was nice to see so much more there. I got to learn about many important Jewish figures, from philosophers and rabbis to Levi Strauss, who founded the present day jean company. It was a bit overwhelming to try to take in all that was there, but I think over four hours in any museum tests the limits of a person’s endurance.
There was one room concerning the holocaust that was especially emotionally provocative. It was a long narrow room with a tall ceiling, and the only light came from a window at the top. Along the floor were 10,000 metal discs cut in the shape of different faces. The floor was covered from three to five faces deep, and as you walked across it the metal clanged loudly against your presence. It wouldn’t be fitting to describe the room as “neat,” but it was such a room that I appreciated the experience of walking across.

That night we three stooges went down to the courtyard in the middle of the building to enjoy the fresh night air and talk philosophy. We conversed at length, but as with most discussions of that type, the end of the matter still lies somewhere up ahead in the distance. Some of the conversation was a continuation of what we started talking about over breakfast, and, I must confess, I was a little frustrated that both Chris and Shola did not see how my view was obviously the right way to think about things. No matter, they will come around soon enough.
And who the hell said it was good to have an open mind anyway?

Ok, so this wasn’t quite the quick summary I thought it would be, and I’m not writing about Amsterdam this time, so next time will have to suffice.

more berlin (28.6.2009)

on the first trip to berlin, the sunday that we left, i went into the Berliner Dom. a cathedral that they now charged admission to. It was quite large and gilded on the inside; i guess you could say it reminded me of a cathedral. i also went to the top of the Dom were there was (and i guess there still is) a great view of the city, but i found the basement of the Dom to be most interesting. there, you could stand face to face with the remains of hallowed saints, encased in impressive marble caskets of course. you could tell that who the holiest people were by the size of their caskets. it was interesting to think that once upon a time, these guys were the shiznit, but now they are the curiosity that remains on the inside of a marble casket. and actually, the insides of the caskets probably all looked the same, which goes to show that it is actually what is on the outside that matters.
all i know is that i wish i could be in the bottom of a cathedral some day.

more berlin (27.6.2009)

there are a few memorable stories from berlin two weekends ago, and then berlin again this past weekend. i'll start with the first weekend in berlin.
i have a rick steve's guide to europe, and i took it along to read about the section on berlin. it had some of the major sights, and also had a self guided tour that you could do by going from place to place along a route that he mentions. After the guys saw the Charlottenburg Schlossgarten, and Ileana saw the zoo, we decided to try and do our own tour by taking Bus #100. After finding a bus stop and waiting for several minutes, we hopped on and found seats on the top deck. It was hard to tell where we were by the map, but it was interesting to just look out the window and see the different buildings. We passed the zoo and some of the buildings that we had previously seen, so i wasn't sure when i was going to start seeing some new sights. sadly, it didn't really dawn us that we were going the wrong way until the bus came to a stop in a bus parking lot and the driver turned it off. that was our signal that the ride was over, and we needed to find a new mode of transportation. thankfully the walk to the tram station wasn't very far.

later that day, when we were taking Bus #100 in the right direction, we turned the corner and saw a huge crowd of people down the street and around what i would later find out to be the victory statue. the layout is such that five roads come directly towards the statue, and then a really big circle drive goes around the statue and connects all the roads. the tents and the dense crowds were on the circle part of the road, but people were streaming down the side roads too. as we started walking down the street towards the center, it occurred to us very quickly that this was not just a normal gathering. it was some kind of gay and lesbian pride festival. maybe the cross-dresser at the bus stop should have tipped us off. let's just say that there were many sights to see at the victory statue that day. there were some strange costumes, some gothic getups, some normal looking people just holding hands, and then there were the thong wearing guys in high heels prancing about the street. then there was the guy without his shirt on, holding himself and dancing erotically to the blaring music. as we were walking through the crowd we walked right in front of that guy. it was kind of awkward, but we kept moving. small children would have been scarred for life.
so, the victory statue was nice, but the rest of berlin was calling us. i think it was coincidence, but after the victory statue we went back to the hostel to take showers before we headed out again for the evening.

the Brandenburger Tor, or Brandenburg Gate, was neat to see. around the gate there was also the U.S. embassy, starbuck's, museum of the kennedy's, and the hotel where michael jackson held his baby over the balcony. later that night, while walking down the street called Unter den Lindon, we saw a group of people sitting on the sidewalk and bemoaning michael jackson's death with posters spread out all over the ground, and candles lit to set the mood. some things i just don't understand.