Another fabulous thing is the lifestyle here. People are generally pleasant and mishaps are quickly ignored or immediately forgotten. If a stoned tourist steps into the bike lane and almost gets run down, the locals on the bikes just swerves out of the way and their indifference makes them feel like an idiot. With a mild scolding glance, they hurtle on by, scarf flapping fashionably in the wind. It's like they can pick and choose what upsets them. I'm sure some of them freak out, but if half the stuff I've seen so far happened on the average city street in North America, someone would have got their ass chewed out.
I plan to rent a bike during the course of this immersion into all things Amsterdam. Kierstie has flat out refused to ride one. In her defense, the cycle traffic here is pretty scary. The pros know the rules, both the official and the unwritten, and they follow them, but the tourists don't always know. Rental bikes are a good thing to avoid when crossing any roads. Actually, bikes in general are a good thing to avoid. They seem to ignore the signals lights just as much as the pedestrians. If there's a space, they fly for it and somehow it all seems to work out. I will be renting my bike on a weekday evening, when the streets are empty. We'll see how it goes, I will try and get some video of it.
There are mostly only three types of tourists here. There are the Camera Toters, the Potheads and the Johns. The camera toters file into the low flat tour boats (yes, we did to) and they ply you through the canals. Some of the houses are so crooked, partially sunken into the mud beneath. Dancing houses, they call them. The remodeled ones are seriously cool. The floors are level but there's as much as a 24" level variance over a 20 foot span so the windows sag to the side, like the house is a giant candle melting into the canal. Cool shit. The Camera Toters dutifully snap photos of the dancing houses (again, we did as well).
The Potheads come in many flavours, and they wander around supporting a seemingly endless supply of coffee shops (code for weed stores) and munchie establishments providing succor for the eternal stoner appetite. Waffles, crepes, fries with mayo (a local favorite) and more. All the major fast food outlets are here, and they are all over the place. Heaven forbid a Pothead can't get a Big Crunch sandwich from KFC. I confess, I had a Whopper on our last adventure.
I've been to many of the coffee shops here in the city. I've sampled various types and am still amazed at the differences. Haze, Amnesia, AK-47, Northern Lights, White Widow, Bubblegum and more. I've tried them all. Some taste better. Some are for sleeping (Amnesia) and others for laughing (Bubblegum). I was told that AK-47 was the best one for playing video games, hmmm. I've recently rediscovered World of Tanks, it's pretty fun. Maybe I'll test that theory. The prices and qualities seem to vary quite a bit, both with the coffee and the smoke-able inventory. One coffee shop charges $50 for 5 grams of White Widow, and another 4 doors down sells the same for $65. All I'm saying is, shop around. Do some research. The first coffee shop I went into when we first got here was De Kroon. It was cool, the coffee was awesome and the pre-rolled joint I bought was served filtered and ready in a nifty little plastic case. It was a little overpriced there, but as I said, the coffee was excellent and the Mixed Haze mellowed me just perfectly. I smoked half (It's much stronger here, so go slow at first) and when the roach was cold, back into the handy plastic case and into the pocket it goes. Love it!
The stoners get lost in the city because all the streets and canals all look similar and the names are unpronounceable. I've heard stories from people who've come here and gotten baked or tripped out on mushrooms, then they wander the city for hours, totally lost, looking for their hotel. I don't do lost. I always have to know where I am.
The Johns are obviously here for the Red Light district. As previously noted in this blog, Kierstie and I have walked through the district. It's a show. Watching the guys come out of the little doors afterwards is hysterical. They all have huge smiles. Hoards of bachelor parties buzz around, all wearing matching custom T-Shirts or huge hats, something to add to the courage and stupidity of a mob mentality. Some loiter outside and they all high five, bathed in the glow of red lights, when one of their cohorts comes out after a successful transaction. It's all very odd to me, but hey...when in Rome. Not that I will partake of the services, of course, but perhaps I can convince Kierstie to see a live sex show. Or maybe I'm the one who needs convincing. We'll see.
More to come, and sooner rather than later. I'm too lazy to proofread this so please excuse any mistakes, grammatical or otherwise.
Time for some Amnesia...
Ian
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