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Published: April 21st 2006
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People keep writing me and asking where I am.
Does it look like I know where I am?
OK then. Just a few more things about Amsterdam. I was actually there for a whole week. That bike tour that we went on had four of us. The two other girls hated it. They kept stopping to rest. One of them even got off her bike and walked. She said it was too hard. Ya, the wind made it a tough ride, but COME ON. The tour guide ended up giving her a ride on the back of his bike. It was slow going, but it was better than stopping every 5 minutes to wait for her.
I was told that the biggest problem in Amsterdam was bike theft. I mean there are millions of them. Everyone is on bike, just about. A lot of locals dont even have cars. I think I have a solution for this. Why not legalize it? Ya, make it legal to take bikes. It worked for the drugs and hookers right? I mean there would be no reason to lock your bike. Just use it to go where you are going, and if its not there when you get back, just take someone elses. No Im not high. Just a thought. But if you are
going there, be prepared to smell like weed the whole time. The whole city reaks of it. Of course. It's Amsterdam. So don't say I didn't warn you.
So I left The Dam and headed back to the yU.K. Flew into Bournemouth. Its a coastal city in southwest Britian. Went there to visit an old friend, Paula. She's not really old. I just meant that I've known her for several years now. I met Paula on a train in Greece almost 4 years ago, when I was traveling with Colby and Damon, through Europe. The train was leaving and she had some trouble getting on. We gave her a hand and ever since, kept in touch through emails. All she really remembers is 3 loud Americans sitting in front of her. (Ugly Amercian) So fast forward several years, Im back in the U.K. and she is living in England. How could I not visit?
And just in case you are thinking of going to Bournemouth, be aware that the bus from the airport to town is irratic. Landed at 2pm. Went to the bus stop, checked the schedule and saw that a bus was due at 2:15 and
Beach Shack for rent.
I could totally live here. every hour afterwards. Sweet. So at 3 and no bus, did I panic? Nope. Just figured it was really late. I didn't want to walk into the terminal and ask because, of course, that would be the 5 minutes that it would come past. But I couldn't resist. So I started walking over to the terminal enterance. That is when I saw it drive into the airport and drop off some people. A big yellow bus with my name on it. So I turned around and headed back to the bus stop. Didn't want to miss it. As Im walking I look over my shoulder and see the bus turning around. NOOOOOO! I ran after it with my pack in tow waving my arms like an idiot, only to get a better view of the big yellow bus with my name on it, turn onto the highway and shrink into the distance. So out of breath and frustrated I went into the terminal info desk and asked how often that bus visits the airport. The nice man there looked up, scratched his chin in thought, and said, "Hardly ever. We never know when it comes, it's so random." Doh! He
said maybe around 5pm. Oh, in a couple of hours, that's perfect. I asked about a cab, but due to the holiday weekend it would probably cost about 16pounds. So with only 40 in my pocket, I decided to wait the two hours.
Finally got into town and walked over a mile (most of it uphill) and found a Bed'nBreakfast for a reasonable price. Bournemouth is a beach city with lots of 'beautiful people', as Paula put it. Finally met up with her and we had a wonderful time catching up and reminiscing. We were both amazed at how random our meeting was back in Greece, and then to be sitting in front of each other these years later. She took me to a club to experience some of the nightlife. Very crowded. A lot of the girls there don't like wearing much when they go out. But I didn't complain. If you're going to travel you have to be able to adapt to strange half-naked local customs. I adapted. Beisides, Paula informed me that the girls do that even in the dead of winter. Don't think she approved though, she's a bit more self-respecting. Maybe they just like
Nice balloon
Where's a b.b.gun when you need one? showing off their fake orange tans. ewww. New licencing allowed the clubs to stay open till 6am. But seeing as it was a recently new thing, most people still called it a night around 3. As did we. I am sure that I will get back there, perhaps in the summer to make use the beaches. But I do owe her one, for sure. She showed me a great time and was a gracious host. And, man can she dance.
So a word to the wise. Next time you're getting on a train from Patras to Athens, and some pretty South African girl with a pack, bigger than her, is trying to get on. Lend a hand. You might end up with a really good friend, that takes you out clubbing next time you're in Europe traveling. Thanks Paula.
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Marcus Guzman
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