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by Daniel Berger.
Original Post: Amsterdam: The Good, the Bad, and the Stoned
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I just flew back from Amsterdam....and boy, are my arms tired!
The Good
Amsterdam is a beautiful, old city. Lots of bikes, pedestrians and cars intermingle with the trams in a chaotic yet organized manner. Somehow, disaster is (mostly) avoided. There are cafes and shops everywhere.
The weather was (mostly) great.
My sister's wedding went off without a hitch. It was held in a real, working windmill. The canal boat ride afterwards was one of the most memorable events ever.
My new, Dutch brother-in-law seems like a good man. His family is awesome.
The women of Amsterdam are, on the whole, gorgeous. Heck, I saw women working at menial retail jobs that could pass for models here. Some of my sister's friends commented that they thought the men were pretty hot, too.
Virtually everyone speaks English. That made life quite a bit easier.
There's lots of fun, touristy things to do. I saw the house of Anne Frank, the Van Gogh museum, Rembrandt House and the Rijksmuseum (such as it is at the moment).
The Bad
Dutch music - oofda.
About Amsterdam itself, I can only complain about the customer service, or lack thereof. Our hotel was excellent, but in general customer service sucks in Amsterdam. Some of our European friends (from Denmark, Poland and Switzerland) confirmed that it wasn't just me being a whiny American.
About the travel itself...holy fuck, did this travel experience suck. This has to be the most fucked up travel experience I have ever had in my life. Things started badly when the United flight from Denver to Chicago was delayed over three hours due to bad weather in Chicago (gee, what a surprise). That meant I could either wait a day or take a Lufthansa flight, and get there via Boston to Frankfurt to Amsterdam. I chose the latter but that meant my luggage would have to catch up with me later. It also meant I would get there 4 hours later than planned, with no way to contact the folks planning to give me a ride. I took a cab once I got there, and apologized profusely once I got there.
As for my luggage, it wasn't until the day of the wedding that I actually managed to get it thanks, in part, to the terrible customer service that I mentioned earlier. United claimed it was at the airport. The Lufthansa baggage service claimed they didn't have it. Knowing that baggage service handlers are lazy fucktards worldwide, I decided to take a cab to the airport first thing in the morning to go and get it. Sure enough, there it sat - my big, orange suitcase, clearly labeled, in the center of the room.
The trip back was annoying, too. The flight out of Amsterdam was delayed an hour, thanks to the only real rainstorm I saw the entire time I was there. That delayed me just long enough to miss my connecting flight in Chicago. That cost another four hours, so I didn't get home until 10pm instead of the 6pm I hoped for. I was ready to tear my eyeballs out at that point.
The Stoned
Yes, yes, I went to the red light district. Yes, I saw the girls in the windows, advertising their, uh, goods. Yes, we went to a "coffee shop". I didn't personally indulge in the doobage (or the girls), but some of my sister's friends did. I inhaled enough second hand smoke to get a bit of a high, but I don't much care for it. Some of our wedding party wanted to go see a live sex show, but it was too late. Oh, darn.
Erwin (the new brother-in-law) was great at fending off the drug dealers and junkies. Remember boys and girls, Amsterdam may be low-crime, but it's not no-crime. Keep your wallet in your front pocket, stay with your friends and don't get too drunk.
One person fell off the canal boat during the festivities. There was alcohol involved. No one was injured.
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