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Published: October 1st 2006
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Amsterdam Canal
Yes, a picture of Amsterdam without drugs or prostitutes.... Amsterdam is famous for its canals and bicycle riding as well you know! OK, I said in the last blog that I'd be typing this one from the UK. Make that home in Australia. I did type up a blog in the UK, but the computer I was on farted and I lost it all. I spat it and refused to retype it, so here are the last few blogs typed comfortably at home with a refreshing beer.
Now, the train ride to Amsterdam. Claire and I, as I mentioned decided to wander around Berlin revisiting a few places to take photos. We were a bit too casual and had to rush back to the station to catch the train to Amsterdam. After rushing our bums off, we made it to the platform to be told the train had been delayed by about 10 minutes or so. Since we hadn't stopped to eat, we decided to head for a shop to grab a bite to eat. While at the counter, the train pulled up to the platform and an announcer notified us it was the train to Amsterdam.
We (once again) ran back to the platform without grabbing any food and jumped on the train. Claire went to a second class carriage and I
Rembrandt's House
I'm sure you've heard of this guy. jumped on a first class one.
I quickly nodded off after I got on. A bit later I get a message from Claire saying that she's gotten off the train, because it wasn't going on through to Amsterdam. I looked out the window to see the train leaving Hannover station. I messaged Claire back and asked what was going on, and she replied that she had been told that the she needed to get off at Hannover to catch another train to Amsterdam. I jumped up and tried to find someone that could tell me what was going on. The only employee I could find was at the bar (yes, this was just a coincidence!). I told him my problem and he lifted up a bottle and said "Bier?". In other words he couldn't speak English. I tried my best to explain, and in the end he took me to someone else. I once again explained my story, and this guy replied with, "my English, not so good". Great, stuck on a train going god-knows-where with no-one that speaks English. I tried my best broken English/half German explanation and he finally understood that I wanted to know where this train was going and how I could get to Amsterdam. It turned out the train was headed to Cologne/Bonn and stopping. These places were south of the route I wanted to take (not to mention still in Germany and miles from Amsterdam). He said that the best way of getting to Amsterdam was to get off in Dortmund and see if trains were still running to Amsterdam from there.
I took his advice and got off in Dortmund, preparing myself for the fact that I might be sleeping on the streets for the night. To rub it in, it started raining.
I managed to find a ticket/information office where a lady spoke English. When I told her I needed to get to Amsterdam, she gave me a funny look and said "tonight?"
I took this as a bad sign but nodded anyway. She got on her computer and after a few minutes printed out a piece of paper.
The only way I could make it to Amsterdam was to catch another combination of three trains which would finally get me there at 12.45am that night. The only problem, she explained, was that the train from Dortmund was due to leave 3 minutes ago, but was running 5 minutes late giving me 2 minutes to catch it. I gave her many thanks and turned heel in my best marathon sprint, making the train literally seconds before it took off. Due to the train being late, I also had to sprint to the next train to make it in time, which once again I did with seconds remaining. I finally reached the last train and jumped, finally able to relax.
At nearly 1am, I pulled into Amsterdam's Centraal Station. I hopped off and headed towards the tram stop to make my way to the hostel. It wasn't long before I realised that the trams stop running at 12.30. I prepared myself for a walk.
Two minutes into my walk, a weird looking guy comes up to me offering a cheap hotel. With Amsterdam's reputation, the fear of some freaky homosexual dragging me off somewhere entered my head. I quickly told him I was OK, had a hotel near the park, and was headed there now. He offered to take me there, since it was a long walk. I politely (with fear in my voice, I'm sure) declined his offer. He insisted he at least show me the street that led there. I knew from the map I had that the street wasn't far, so agreed. He took me there, and once again persistently offered to take me there. I once again refused. He then gave in, asked me for spare change and left. I continued my trek to the hostel, getting high from passing too many "coffeeshops" and bars that had dope smoke pouring out of them. 45 minutes later I reached the hostel and caught up with Claire who had managed to get there slightly earlier and check us in. Sleep at last.
The next day, we took off to check out the city. First stop, the Heineken brewery. This was a cool place with lots of interactive info on the beer. Even cooler was the fact that we got three free samples on the way round. We spent about 3 hours there, putting us a little behind on time. We ventured further into the city, around the red light district and checked out a few architectural sites, before heading west to Anne Frank Haus. This was a really cool experience, relating to the world war and everything we'd saw in Berlin. After seeing Berlin, we had a better understanding of why this family hid for so long to avoid capture. It was very surreal standing in the rooms where they lived for two years without stepping outside.
Later in the night, we joined a red light district tour which not only gave us a bit of history on the city, but also showed us the famous side of Amsterdam. The sex and drugs. To me the prostitutes of the red light district looked liked monkeys in a cage, only less hairy. The literally stood at glass doors knocking on the glass with coins, inviting you to join them. A few of the doors had curtains drawn, suggesting they were "busy" at the time.
After the tour, we decided to check out one more thing that's a must-do before leaving. A live sex show. I won't go into details (it wasn't that smutty, actually), but let me say that I probably won't ever eat a banana again!
The next morning, I got up early (about 5.45am) to catch a train to the airport, then onto Liverpool in the UK. Believe it or not, I caught the right train, didn't have to run to the plane (more like a jog) and actually comfortably made it to Liverpool, catching a bus to the city centre.
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