Thursday, October 6, 2011

Planes, Trains, and Automobiles

What's there to say?! I'm in freaking Amsterdam! Upon arriving in Amsterdam the train station was more confusing than I thought, but it was easy to score change for the train fare. Apparently there are two Amsterdam Zuids. En plus, next time I ask for directions, I will be way more precise. Anyways, I finally made it to CitizenM Hotel off of Beehetovenstraat.  CitizenM is a boutique hotel that gets down to brass tacks in terms of layout. The room itself packed with everything a weary traveler will need. Namely, a GIANT ass bed and a "rain" shower head. Mind you, the toilet sitch is VERY intimate. Like if indeed this is a hotel for two, someone needs to leave the room if you're gonna drop a deuce, or y'all need to be co-dependent in love.

Alright so my shit is dropped off, and I immediately hit the streets looking for a bike rental spot. After a 15 minute walk I came up on loot, a bike shop. I rented a sturdy dutch bike for 3 days to the tune of $45 euros. And by sturdy I mean supremely heavy and unwieldy. I totally miss the Puch! Anyways, I hit the road, and damn near killed myself and like 8 others. It's like the grand prix of bikes out here. Can you say high stakes!?

That said, I love it that this is a city for bikers. The urban planning is obviously not with out its issues I am sure, but to the lay person it is the dopeness. There's enough space on the road for pedestrians, bikes/scooters, and compact cars. That's right tiny little funny looking cars. The largest car I've seen on the road is a Land Rover.

Once I got my bearings on the bike I headed out to get lost. As I am brand spanking new to the city of Amsterdam, I have no idea where I decided to stop, but stop I did once I came across my first coffeeshop. Hell I don't even remember the name, I was just so thrilled to be partaking in a way that was totally n'importe quoi. I ordered a Looza, some White Widow flower, and Caramello hashish. I grab some papers and made my way to the smoking lounge. The reggae was hold down a rag tag band of smokers. The pensive North African dude, some lanky old dude from Curacao, and pock marked man of nebulous ethnicity. Everything was gravy,  until the seemingly nice I'm-having-a-smoke-after work lady from Surinam started getting all bite your face off crazy. Admittedly, I am half deaf and don't speak Dutch, but there was a point in the conversation where it dawned on me that once again my chatty cathy ass is in a clang association half conversation with a mad woman. Balls! I promptly finished my spliff, put hat back on, and split.

Afterwards when I was walking around a bazaar, I realized that that is what a stoner dive bar looks like. Note to self: bring something to write with/on next time you hit a spot like this.

Anyways, the bazaar was cool. One can really begin to see where NYC get so much of its street culture. I also noticed alot of black people. Well enough black people to know that I can get a decent hair cut before I leave here and buy some hair products. Bumass TSA took my lotion and hair pommade. Pinche Cabrones.

After yesterday's hijinx and dinner with Edwin (an old friend from NYC) I sufficiently tuckered myself out to break on through the jet lag. It's 9am here. Time to go see how the Dutch do breakfast!

1 comment:

  1. Fucking fantastic! Congrats! So glad you are documenting it all here!

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