FINALLY! After over a month and a half...and after not sleeping for the last week...I FINALLY finished my Amsterdam Photo Site!!!
It was the best trip ever, so I hope you all enjoy the photos!!!
Click here for the Amsterdam Photo Gallery!!!
Recently in Amsterdam Category
It's easy to get lost here, but it's just as easy to get found.
That was the first thing I wrote in my journal, sitting alone in a restaurant, on my first night in Amsterdam.
So, did it turn out to be more than just my observations of the city plan, did it turn out to be a metaphor for my trip, did it turn out to be a metaphor for my life?
More than anything in the world I needed this trip. I needed Amsterdam.
Quite honestly I was a completely different person here and I hope upon hope that I can take that person back with me.
I was thoroughly prepared to say here that this was the best experience and the worst experience of my life.
It was lonely, it was scary, it was nerve racking.
But I did it.
I did it.
Everyone kept telling me that I was brave for doing this by myself. And I'd say No. No I'm not brave.
But I want to be.
After that first night I didn't think I would be able to cope for a whole week and now I never want to leave.
This last week the most important thing I have ever experienced. The greatest thing I have ever experienced. And I know now that I can do it. That everything will always be OK. Did I get lost here? Yes. But did I find my way.
I'm sitting in the airport and feel completely fucked. I guess that's a good thing.
Last night I went to the party again. Why the fuck not?
There were more people, which meant less vodka so I compensated with jager shots and glasses of wine. Some guys from Cincinnati made fun of me for drinking wine.
Jodie and I pole danced a lot. She rocks my socks. Katy from their hostel came out and so did British James who disappeared at one point. He didn't like where he was from. I'm beginning to think that no one likes where they come from.
Ummm...that's all I wrote. I think I was feeling pretty shitty but in an awesome way. I also think I didn't remember most of the night. I have a bunch of photos though that I don't remember taking and about a million and a half self portraits with Jodie from the night. I'll just sum up the night in a bunch of pictures then.
You know what's fucking scary? When you are in the women's bathroom and see a reflection of a man behind you in the mirror and you turn around and no one's there.
Then you see it again...
And then you finally realize that those portholes behind you aren't mirrors but are windows into the men's bathroom.
***
You know what's fucking awesome? As I write this I am sitting here drinking a Heineken and smoking a joint. True story.
***
There's now a Canadian tour group of high schoolers or something staying here and they are damn loud.
I'm having a lazy day. Daniel was going to email me to go to the zoo with him but I haven't heard from him. This morning I walked around a bit, just enjoying the streets of Amsterdam. I grabbed some pasta salad and juice and decided to have a picnic at Rembrandtplein for lunch. I'll probably take it easy today and party all night before catching my plane. I can't believe that this is my last night. I feel different here although it's probably just all the pot smoke in the air.
I can't tell if this is really doing anything to me and I keep sucking in fibers and having to spit them out. And I don't like that it keeps smoking so I keep putting it out and relighting it. You probably aren't supposed to do that and I'm probably doing it all wrong.
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My feet are going to fall off.
I'm not looking forward to leaving tomorrow.
I'm singing to myself at the table like I do in my car but not out loud.
That probably means something.
I miss my car. I don't like walking. My feet hurt.
All these fucking Canadians probably think I'm a complete stoner. I can't wait to rest my feet. I don't want to go back. I'm not going back as me. Everyone told me Amsterdam took only 2 or 3 days but I can't imagine if I'd only been here for 2. I would have left needing more.
You know what rocks? When you're in a bar in AMSTERDAM and a BON JOVI song comes on. You can rock to that anywhere in the world.
Also, they only play 10-year-old American music here. It's true. Oh, except for this song by Amy Winehouse the first far keeps playing called "Valerie."
***
I really didn't have any plans for the night so I set off for a walk to go photograph some canals. Of course, that involved walking past the memorial statue on the dam...where the bar crawl peeps meet up...Joe was there with Daniel, and Thomas was there too...and they saw me and convinced me to come out again. By "convinced me" I mean they said "Come out with us." In record time I ran back to my room to ditch my camera and sped back to take off with them.
At the first bar I told Joe that tonight I was going to be a good girl because that last night I kind of pretty much wasn't. Then Thomas walked up and had me open wide for some vodka. I guess that promise went out the window.
Now to be fair I was a good girl. To be unfair it wasn't totally my fault :(
The night was an absolute blast. There was (of course) pole dancing and (of course) lots of drinks and (of course) dancing with the boys and (of course) a little fire. I specifically remember at one point Thomas helping me onto a stage and I totally fell straight over. Yeah... Honestly, I don't know if I remember much. I do remember that at the end of the night some random Englishman bought us drinks and then we got totally lost going home. Go figure.
I think instead of trying to pull together a recap, let's just go over a cast of characters...
Jodie and Megan
Jodie and Megan are sisters, not lesbians. They are from Melbourne, Australia and they rock my socks off. Jodie is my new btff (best TRAVEL friend forever) and she and I are dancing partners and really can work the pole...Except when I accidentally kick some random girl in the head. True story. They left Amsterdam on the same night as me but then they went back. I miss them terribly now and wish I could still be there dancing with them.
Joe
As you already know Joe is a truck driver from New York who I met while photographing. He's the one who got me into this mess :-) He likes his purple hat. He likes the stripper pole too.
Daniel
Danny boy is from Hawaii. He was awesome and was also travelling alone. We were supposed to go to the zoo together but he never called. To be fair, I didn't have a phone there so he couldn't really call me :-)
Will
Will: I don't like Chicago.
Val: Why not?
Will: There's nothing special about Chicago.
Val: [makes her signature sad face]
Will: Well, except for you.
Will is the cutie from Virginia but he talks with a British accent. He doesn't like Chicago, but he doesn't really like Virginia either so I guess it's somehow OK. He works four jobs but I forgot what they are. He likes the stripper pole too. He had to leave slightly early to go catch a plane. I told him I am going to drive out to see him this summer. $4+ gas is my enemy.
Thomas
Thomas was one of the pub crawl guides and I was pretty much in love with him from the moment I saw him. And then again from when he talked with an Australian accent...All night this night he kept telling me that he got out at 2:30 and would be able to dance with just me then. Then at 2:30 he told me he was tired and going home. I'm pretty sure he was telling everyone the same thing. But whatever. I was being a good girl anyways :-)
Despite the fact that I'd just gotten home a few hours before I decided I still wanted to make it to Keukenhof, a flower garden a few towns over in Lisse.
Keukenhof is the world's largest flower gardens and is apparently the most photographed place in the world. And it's only open for three months out of the year. Basically it's a huge garden filled with flowers. I suppose it would be a pretty horrible garden if it wasn't filled with flowers. But I'm pretty damn tired so please forgive me. I'm not sure what else to say about it. It was pretty. Here are some pictures. Pictures speak a thousand words you know:
I'm proud of myself because on the way home I looked at the train board and saw that a train to Amsterdam was leaving in a minute so I hopped on with no hesitation. I think normal Val would have second guessed herself and waited for the next train. I don't think I am normal Val here.
I guess it's good to know that I can handle this all on my own. I know that just a few days ago I was convinced that my savings would now be earmarked for a condo, but now I'm not sure. It sucks being alone but it's nice to meet new people. And even if you're alone there are always people who can become your new best friend for an hour, a day, a week, or a lifetime.
I should find dinner.
I remember vodka. Lots and lots of vodka.
It's 11am and I'm on a train headed to Leiden. Pretty good considering I just got home to my hostel at 7am...Just in time to see a man leaving the red window across the street and just in time to see the lights on the canals go back off.
Last night I met up with Joe to go to Ultimate Party Amsterdam. It's a pub crawl and for 20 euro you get admission to six bars a drink at each and way too much vodka in the first half hour (poured straight down your throat by the really cute Aussie guide). Seriously, after a jager shot with another Aussie girl I probably had about 8 or 9 or 20 shots of vodka. Did I mention that was at the first bar? And just in the first half hour? And that end of that first half hour at that first bar I was pretty much completely wasted.
me and joe
You know what I learned? It's pretty easy to go up to a table full of guys and start talking. I also may have learned that Val makes really bad decisions while drunk. But anyways...
So the pub crawl was tons of fun...even if I don't remember much of it...I think Joe confessed his attraction for me...and then later told me his friend liked me...but...yeah...at that point I was already making out with a Canadian...
Seriously, next time I decide to go to Europe I'm just going to Canada because that's all I meet.
Anyways...there was a stripper pole at some point...and a bartender that spouted fire...and...more alcohol...
And did I mention this Canadian was tall? Like 6'7" tall? And that he was 22? And that he kept telling me that I had beautiful eyes? And that we may have left together? I did mention that I got home at 7. And I did mention that Val makes really stupid decisions when drunk. But whatever. Life experience.
***
Ummmm.
Ummmmmmmmm.
I may feel sick.
I kind of looked dude up on facebook.
It may have said such and such high school class of '07.
I don't think that makes him 22...
I may feel sick.
Today. Woke up. Made it down in time for the end of breakfast. Ate. Took off.
I found FOAM, which is an amazing little photography museum I wanted to check out. The photography in the first exhibit was contemporary Amsterdam work. But the second floor had a killer exhibit by Jessica Dimmock titled "The 9th Floor." She basically followed these heroin addicts as they lived in a 9th floor apartment and after they were kicked out. One disappeared. One tried to get help form family. Two of them had a baby together. It was beautiful work.
After the museum I walked through bloemenmarkt, which is a big flower market that had fresh flowers, bulbs, etc. So many pretty flowers.
Next up I decided to go find pancakes and found the Pancake Bakery. I said "Just one." The waitress said "Just one?" It's a phrase I've had to utter and confirm too many times this week.
She seated me next to the kitchen on a table that they had formerly been using to stack trays. I didn't mind because I liked just watching the pancakes being made. I ordered an orange juice because really nothing is better than fresh orange juice and a pancake with bacon, cheese, and mushrooms. It was damn tasty but way too huge to finish.
After that I walked through Magna Plaza, which is basically a shopping mall, and headed back to my hostel. Now I'm sitting here, doing, what else but drinking a Heineken.
I swear everyone here thinks I'm a huge stoner because they just see me sitting here staring and doing not much else a lot. But it's OK because they are all stoners. The other day there were two guys in here who were literally just sitting and staring. I left and came back a few hours later and I swear they hadn't moved an inch.
True Story: I have had more Heinekens than I've had Cokes this week (that says A LOT coming from me).
Another True Story: If I wanted to start a different type of coke habit there are a couple of guys outside my hostel that would be more than willing to help.
***
Today was a busy busy day. I started by going to the Noodermarkt. They like their markets here. There are tons of them. I saw a man selling birds. I bought an orange juice. That's another thing they have here: fresh juice. It's everywhere and I love it.
Then I walked to museumplein and I didn't get lost! I'm learning how to read a map.
I toured through the Van Gogh Museum. Of course, I declined the tour in favor of just reading the descriptions when I saw something that caught my eye. There was a gorgeous exhibition going on of John Everett Millais's works. He's probably best known for his painting of Ophelia and I particularly loved the corresponding photography exhibit that showed different takes on the Ophelia theme.
The Van Gogh's themselves were amazing and I never knew so much about him and there were pieces that I'd never guess in a million years were his (such as the pieces that were inspired by Japanese artwork).
After the museum I again walked through museumplein. That is where the giant "I AMSTERDAM" sign is.
At the other end of museumplein is the big concert hall concertgebau. I decided to step in and see if anything was playing. There were two shows playing: an opera concert at night and a piano concert in half an hour. I would have seen opera but that was 85 euro and the piano concert was 25...I went with piano. So I bought a ticket and she gave me what they call the "Queen's seat," which was, quite literally, the best seat in the house: front row balcony, dead center. Amazing.
I quickly grabbed a waffle then came back to watch the show. The concert was very nice and the music was beautiful. The woman next to me was insanely into it. She kept taking off her rings so she could clap louder. I felt bad for her having to sit next to me because I was wearing the same jeans I'd worn for days and had yet to shower. I probably smelled. But whatever.
After the concert I was just going to head home but then I noticed that there was no line for the Rijksmuseum. Rijksmuseum is a huge high-class art museum full of masterpieces...unfortunately it is currently closed. They do however have one wing open and luckily it was easily doable :)
So...somewhere between the conveyor belt and the bag check I managed to lose my wallet. I completely freaked out. Luckily a nice lady found it and returned it straight to me.
The work there was definitely high quality art and they actually had some Rembrandts. Of course, I think I saw the whole thing in about fifteen minutes...but it was beautiful.
So I booked it home to return my bike because hell if I was going to pay for that thing to sit outside of my hostel for another day. The guy who checked the bikes looked at my receipt and said "Just one?" "Yup." "You alone?" "Yup." "Why are you alone?"
"I don't know."
Now I am back, yet again, in the hostel bar, drinking a Heineken, writing in my blog away from blog.
***
I debated whether I would/should/could write the rest of this entry here. We don't want to get in trouble now do we? But whatever, its legal (there...or at least decriminalized)...and if I'm willing to embarras myself greatly with the most embarrisingly stupid "first time" story (yes, I'm 27, and yes it was my first experience) ever I shouldn't deny that to the world, now should I? So...here we go...
And here it is. I have officially gotten high. OK, so maybe not "gotten high" but I definitely smoked a joint...at least kind of. It was pure grass, pre-rolled. At least that's what the gu who worked there said when I told him I'd never done it before and asked what I should get. I sucked it up and went in alone and he sold me a pack of 4 (they only came in packs of 4) and a lighter. I have three left in my purse. I sat for a while staring at it. Not necessarily because I was afraid or questioning my morality or any shit like that. I just honestly didn't know how to light the thing. I had to watch a bunch of people do it until I felt like I kind of got it then did it. At one point about half way through I flicked off some ash and the whole thing went out. I didn't know if you were allowed to relight it. But I kind of gathered that you could and so I did and I finished it off.
I just went to the coffeeshop that was part of my hostel so I could be close to home and so when I finished I came back here. I don't know if I feel anything but a bit ago I went online and was chatting with some friends and totally completely blanked out staring for a minute. I guess that means something?
"Find a man who thinks your silence is beautiful."
The old Dutchman at the bar said that to me. I wasn't talking much and to be truthful it was because I could hardly understand what he was saying and to be more truthful it was because in general I just don't talk much.
It's been something I've been thinking about these last few days. Whenever I talk I have to clear my throat and start again because each sentence has come after a long period of silence. Paul kept saying today that I don't say much. And it's true. It's hard to meet new people when you don't know what to say. In real life there have always been people I either click with or don't. If there is no instant connection I find it hard to try to create it.
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I want to be someone people want to know. I'm watching a girl at the hostel bar in a short dress dancing for the guys. It's an easy way for attention but I just don't want to be one of those girls. I suppose, you can say, I want someone to love me for my silence. Someone will.
I think sometimes that I am looking at this all wrong. Whether I meet anyone or not. Whether I see all the sites or not. Whether I smoke a joint or not. I will have learned something and grown and fallen in love with a city and done something I have never done before.
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Part of me wants to go home and part of me wants to never leave and part of me wants to pick up all my friends and move them here.
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He told me that my silence is beautiful. Why he said that I'm not so sure. Why I am taking to heart so much something a strange Dutchman said to me in a cafe is beyond me. And why this man who I could hardly understand could understand me so well is frightening. He gave me a postcard before I left. It has his picture on the back and a painting on the front. He is an artist who maybe I am supposed to know. He told me my silence is beautiful. He told me to find a man who thinks my silence is beautiful. He told me to find a man who loves me for my silence.
