We could tell as soon as we landed. Airport personel smiled when we walked passed and bid ‘alstublieft’ when we were given our passports back or when we requested information at the tourist counter. We were given clear and concise instructions (someone even took the time to write it all down on paper) on which buses and trams to take into the city center, and where our hotel was.
Once we found the appropriate bus, the seemingly thick shroud of clouds we had seen over Amsterdam when we were descending was now breaking apart, and a warm summer sun was beating down hard. We enjoyed the bright Holland countryside on the way into the city: endless canals and pastures; the land flat all the way to the far horizon.
Once in the Old Town district of Amsterdam we were taken aback by the silent residential streets, populated only by the old town houses and the occasional lone cyclist. And everywhere you looked there was a green element: pine trees, shrubs, climbing vines and creepers, pots and bowls of flowers. We walked by shop selling the dollhouse-like handcrafts related to the art of drinking tea: flowered cups, kettles, pots, tiny hand painted tables, baskets, colored tea bag holders and tea pot coasters.
There’s something about Amsterdam. And it wasn’t until we checked into our hotel and walked into the heart of the Old Town that we saw its full magic. The noon sun was strong and bright, and since this was the first cleared blue day in a long while, everyone was out in the streets. We walked though a market with sunny yellow canvases with tulip bulbs on display, small blue and white ceramic windmills, hand painted wooden clogs, colorful bags, hats and t-shirts. There was a stall selling weird sandwiches with the largest pickled gherkins we’d ever seen. Ed was intrigued so for €1.50 he got a semi-raw herring fillet and pickle sandwich. It didn’t look too appealing, but it tasted like heaven.
By this time, Ed could no longer conceal his desperation to go to a coffee-shop. We found a bike-taxi and asked the driver to take us to a good coffee-shop, and for a €6 rip off, he did. The Bulldog was dark and musky, and except for the assortment of fresh fruits on display behind the bar, there was not much color. Here’s an interesting Amsterdam anomaly: you can drink a fresh fruit juice, a cappuccino, a diet coke with lemon, and light up a joint but you will never find alcohol being sold in a coffee-shop. Also, never confuse a ‘coffee-shop’ with a ‘coffee house’ where they only sell coffee.
There was a weed sommelier on duty waiting to share his weed wisdom. His personal suggestions to us (and many other newbie tourists, I’m sure) was to “smoke till you drop”. We didn’t follow his advice although we did have a wee taste of the mild ‘Thai Flowers’ he eagerly suggested. (And before the parental unit gets all agitated, where it’s legal it’s ok). Continue
