That stupid coffeeshop post was up for long enough. I finally conclude this segment with this picture of Tex and I in front of a Van Gogh print. The Netherlands is a beautiful country and Amsterdam is an international beehive to which I will return. It was a full, restful, and refreshing Spring Break 09.
I didn't spend much time in these establishments - contrary to what everyone probably assumed when I said I would be visiting Amsterdam. The legal-illegal drugs were not a part of my decision to visit (Truthfully, the factors were the $450 US roundtrip flight and the dates of our Spring Break). Regardless, I came, I saw, I experienced Amsterdam. The insides of these places are extremely fascinating initially. I relate it to how its fascinating to see topless sunbathers on foreign beaches. But, as with the sunbathers, the awe wears off. The availability of the drugs becomes commonplace and even after just a few days the shock value is gone. The business is regulated and contained. Amsterdam is not crumbling, burning, and turning to salt because people can smoke as they please. I guess that is the lasting impression I have. It is part of a culture, it is part of the uniqueness of Amsterdam, and it is not destructive. Maybe, as the Mexican border wars rage, it would do lawmakers well to take a field trip to Amsterdam.
For my final posts I wanted to say a few words about the more widely known attractions in Amsterdam. First - the Red Light District. On the first night we found ourselves walking the dimly lit streets that make up the few blocks of carnal pleasure. I don't think I had very many expectations, but I did assume we would need to be extra cautious in a place where western morals are compromised. I was flat wrong. The body shopping is done under complete regulation. It felt like an art museum with each unique masterpiece framed and illuminated in an intoxicating red glow. The red lights attract you like a bug to a fluorescent bulb. There are row after row of large windowed doors enclosing body commodities from all around the world. Big and small, light and dark, old and young - your fantasy is as attainable as the 50 euros in your jeans. For a person who holds the opposite sex as the cornerstone of life and happiness this would seem to be the promised land. Yet, there is something unsettling about putting a price on something which you enjoy. It may be analogous to paying for your straight A's, or fixing a sporting event to be victorious, or paying your best friend for their company. It simply isn't the same and what is loved is tarnished. Due to these instinctive conclusions, I simply walked the Red Light District (A few times of course...) and enjoyed it as a spectacle deserving of world infamy.
While eating that amazing lunch in Delft our company mentioned that there was a famous painting worth seeing - the "Girl With A Pearl Earring." I haven't read the book or seen the movie but I knew I couldn't leave The Netherlands without critiquing the work for myself. _-_The_Girl_With_The_Pearl_Earring_(1665).jpg)
On our trip through Panama last summer, my cousin Max (Tex’s brother) and I became friends with two Dutch girls in Bocas Del Toro. The four of us were the only tourists on a beach tour. We reconnected later on in the night and I ruined the entire situation by drinking Abuelo rum out of the bottle (see very bottom of post). I was certain that we would never see Marielle and Jenny ever again. Also, Max has never let me forget the incident. He has used it against me at least bi-monthly.
Thanks to facebook, and probably some pity, we remained in contact. The two girls offered to take us out in Holland and so we maneuvered ourselves from a tram, to a 9:30 pm train out to the town of Den Haag, and then on to another tram to the Grote Markt.
Dressed in jeans and cowboy boots (brown ostrich and dark brown alligator) we were ready for a full night. The square was packed with students and people recently unchained to the weekend. Bars line the sides of the plaza with lounge chairs and tables filling the middle area. We met the girls at bar Zeta and proceeded to dance the night away.
It felt like drinking among New Yorkers in a New Orleans bar. Long overcoats, students and young professionals, perfectly cropped hair, and beautiful looking people. The buildings and architecture were old and the setting set by lamp lights. The cold of the night was less bothersome the more we danced and drank. We finished the evening by moving to a small trance nightclub and then we succumbed to exhaustion. (The pic is of Grote Markt during the day).
The Mercedez Taxi took us all back to the girls’ town of Delft. You know those cameras in America on the stoplights that catch you running the red lights??? They have those here too, but on the freeway - to get you if you go over the speed limit!
The next morning I awoke to the sun pouring in through the large square window in the living room. I looked out to the canal that cut through the street and I watched rowers push by and the town come to life. Everyone was still asleep, so I took the opportunity to do some legal research on one of the macbooks in the living room. My limited internet has been killing me, so I found some much needed sources for my assignment and emailed them to myself. Someone reading has to appreciate the insanity of this.
The town of Delft is gorgeous. We walked through the cobbled stone streets, ate the famous local candy and krokkets, shopped, and spent the late morning eating lunch under the sun in the center of town. Although the trip is not finished for another day, I feel as if this was the climax to our trip. We were in a foreign land, with perfect weather, eating delicious foods, with the best of company, and had great conversation.
(Note: We have no pictures of the beauty of Delft because I left the Nikon 300D at home. I didn’t want to risk the life of the camera at the club. However, I am probably headed back there today to capture some shots.)
We hugged and kissed three times goodbye. It is incredible to have met such genuine people a year ago and then reunite across the world. Although it just dawned on me, I got a second chance today. It feels good to have left a better impression than the one I left on the last occasion in Panama. Unfortunately, we had to split ways, and Tex and I found ourselves at the Vermeer Museum. This is a good place to stop for now. I will write of how the Vermeer Museum inspired the next day’s events.
Mentally braving the 35 degree morning weather, I began another day with a morning run. It is noteworthy in that the run took place in Vondel Park. Although the trees are currently barren, even in their naked state their height and age provided a beautiful running environment. Morning commuters whizzed by on bikes and it was nice to find myself jogging alongside local runners. Being able to see my breath in the morning cold is still indicative of a good workout.
I had bagels (from local Bagels & Beans), coffee, and brief writing for breakfast. Of course, not being used to the European portions, I was hungry again in a few hours. Fresh raw Hering satisfied my hunger. Between bread, onion, and pickles the cold fish was delicious. Tex didn’t care for it, but I made sure I didn’t leave any to the seagulls prowling overhead.
I forgot to mention that on Thursday we intended to go to the Anne Frank House. Yeah, that didn’t happen. Therefore we made it our goal of the day to complete that absolutely necessary attraction. Truthfully, I have always had a vendetta of sorts against the Diary of Anne Frank. In school we were assigned to read the book at, in my opinion, an inappropriately young age. I disliked it upon first read and have only slowly come to realize that the power is in its context. Standing in the room where the Frank family went into hiding I was filled with emotion for many reasons: The way the diary was written, the circumstances, and the power that a simple act has had on generations of people. The flash of the past was sobering and the visit fulfilled the moment of silence for the trip. We absorbed the lessons and then stepped back into our own circumstances. (The house is pictured above)
We spent the afternoon taking pictures and going in and out of stores. I made contact with some Dutch friends of mine earlier in the day and our plan was to meet them later on. Because Friday night is more closely tied to our Saturday experience I will write about my reunion with Marielle and Jenny in the next post.
I have no idea where the rest of the afternoon went. The Texas gentleman that we sometimes are, we helped Tex's new friends get to the Central Station to catch their train. Somehow I ended up toting a heavy bag full of newly purchased clothes across Amsterdam. Following that ruckus we entered a coffeeshop. I will write about the Amsterdam coffee shops and the red light district in my final two posts. For now, it is enough to say we took a great nap and finished the strange Thursday with the 2nd most incredible meal of my life.
It has been rather unfortunate that the wireless internet access here is either scarce, slow, or expensive. It has interrupted my ability to blog and brief write. As it is already(!) Friday, I write to redeem myself.Contrary to the reputation, my experience in Amsterdam thus far has been an incredibly relaxing one. Going forward in this post I offer details on particular events/spectacles, but emphasize that it has been the non-events that have been my favorite aspects: The cafes, the cuisine, the architecture, the morning runs, the languages, the diverse faces, the cleanliness, the style, the bikes, the crisp air, and the peeking sun. Intermittently, we saw those things we were supposed to see as well. Like…
The Van Gogh Museum. Now saavy with the tram lines that criss-cross, what seems to be, just about every street, Tex and I jumped on one toward the museum district. Even with labor intensive educational foundation I knew nothing about the life of Van Gogh – and my cousin knew everything. Hell, I didn’t even know the story about him cutting his own ear. An artist in his own rite, Tex thoroughly enjoyed the museum, as did I. Van Gogh’s 2nd Starry Night was naturally a satisfying sight but I was just as impressed with his other night set paintings. Unbeknownst to me before, he was enamored with the concept of night. It felt good to get an injection of information devoid of any connection to law (although I’m sure an argument could be made somehow).
Keeping with the “Starry” theme we walked over to the old Heineken Brewery for a tour of the grounds (Heineken’s logo involves a red star). We learned the rather simple process for brewing beer. We walked the once bustling brick brewery up-and-down until getting to the best part – the one free beer. I say this because the tour is lacking in many respects, but c’mon it’s about beer. The final part, the bar inside, was incredible. While sipping an Extra Cold Heineken you are surrounded by flat-screen tvs that create one unified wrap around image (HD) depicting different cities around the world. It felt like we were drinking in 
I pursue being lost. I have written about this on past trips. I find such a satisfaction in not knowing exactly where I am, knowing I need to figure out how to get back to comfort. We stumbled right into a street market. I ate some delicious chicken and Tex ate two bags of a variety of grapes. Cheeses, flowers, clothes, pickles, chocolate, fish, and music were all being vended. And just in case the red light district is not enough, one can purchase chocolate in the form of male and female reproductive parts.
Such was our Wednesday. I finished it off with an incredible Indonesian meal and some more brief writing.
That Austin morning wasn't any different than any other. The sun shone, Tex strummed the electric guitar with an acoustic flair, and I was still damp from the sweat of a recent run around Town Lake. Relaxing. Vibing. Procrastinating casebook reading. Eventually the Macbooks emerged as is typical. After my systematic Gmail - Facebook - Nytimes procedure I checked Continental.com to further prolong the inevitable schoolwork. I stumbled upon a cheap flight, on the perfect dates, and the details are to be worked out later. Sometimes you have to just ask yourself "why not?" Although one side of me attempts to answer that question, the other side prevents it from taking complete form. As a a result, Tex and I will be flying to AMSTERDAM over Spring Break for 7 days of any and all the city has to offer. Posts are forthcoming.
