Life, Liberty & Pursuit Of Your Boyfriend

(Yes, They seriously said that on the radio!)

 Ah, the drive to the Netherlands. We had to cross back over Germany. Somewhere near another McDonald's stop, we found a small village called (I think) "Apfelen" in the distance off the highway. The town was eerily unpopulated for a bright afternoon, but housed a super old church with a small 18th-century cemetery in back. We fueled up (another $100 tank) and continued to Amsterdam. 

We were immediately confused by parking (which, in case you drive there, know that daily parking runs about 34 euros, and the parking machines only take coins, and you will stand in front of it trying to find the English directions for approximately 16.34 minutes). Our historic hotel, the Hotel Parklane, was just outside the busy section of the city and across the street from a lovely park (the blooms were just starting to peak out) and a "quarter-hour" walk to all the busy districts. We scored the top suite… with three twin beds? The keeper was an amazing woman — and even lent us her copy of an Amsterdam travel guide to take with us for the evening. I wonder how we'll achieve the steps when we're drinking later.
Also, she warned us not to take the cabs.

We ate dinner on some crazy street with punk stores, pastry shops and Italian restaurants (I had a craving for lasagna?). I remarked how the streets were littered and the city was dirty from our table-with-a-view… when almost instantly, a band of street sprayers and those mobile trash vaccuums came by and made the alley like new. Ater walking around and attempting to take more touristy pics for a while (I really need to learn how to take night pictures), we stopped into a Heineken bar on the corner in the Red Light District. Dance and old hip-hop favorites bounced out of store fronts and clubs EVERYWHERE in Amsterdam. Yes! Of course, we stopped in the place-to-be for the rude bartender and the smaller-than-a-gulp Heineken drafts. I was also becoming more familiar with the ugliness that is the Dutch language. The sound is much of a German tongue, as spoken with extra vowels in places you don't need them, all while garbling marbles.

 After a couple beers and a shot of the American JD (and determining if those were Americans singing "Take Me Home, Country Roads" in the back of the dive bar — they weren't), the canal-lined street became suddenly raucous and lively. Taking a quick peek out the window, you see the windows light up with with amazingly hot chicks, scantily-clothed, pointing, air-kissing and dancing in every store front, wishing you would be her next 20-minutes of fun. Drink up!

We walked around and shopped the bra-and-panty-covered (breasts) in the windows for a bit and noticed that Amsterdam is chock full o' nuts (and I mean serious ball fest), before stopping into Cafe Remember for another few rounds (liquid courage, I suppose). We make some new friends from Dallas, Texas and swap travel stories (while the bartender flirts with me, of course, since  I'm the only female in the joint besides her). When an exceptional amount of confidence (ie: drunkness) set in, we tried the local drink of the Netherlands, which I think is called Jenever. Did happen to mention the men's URINALS in the middle of the squares at random locations around the city? Here they are… albeit really blurry (read: drunk):

Enough blurry photos! We left and crossed over the canal for the live sex show at the Casa Rosso (or the "Pink Elephant"). It was exceptionally choreographed with a short strip tease (I use "tease" here strongly), a fine
classy broad smoking a cigarette out of… well, you-know-where, a banana-eating contest using members of the audience (use your imagination… bananas are not just for breakfast anymore), a hot lesbian-controlled fantasy and the quick-change position male-female highlight. Yes, there was <em>real</em> sex going on. Our tickets (for around 90 euros) included four drinks and a penis-shaped lollipop for me, "in case you need anything to suck on" the gentleman told me. I suppose to dissuade me from using my boyfriend during show times? Our tickets allowed us to remain until close, but I HAD to see all the fun from the streets! And trip and hit my shins a few more times against the steps en route to the restrooms…

Here's where, justly, the rest of Amsterdam gets a little foggy, but I'm sure I drifted off heavenly into visions of rapid-fire sexual positions and prostitutes with hot bodies… and Christmas lights? Doctor's office? Wha? Oh boy, I am intoxicated by boobs. I do remember attempting the walk back to the hotel… and getting lost… and getting a cab.

Look at that! It's The Cleve!
The next morning, we stopped into a cafe for breakfast… and there were OMELETS — like GOOD OMELETS over toast served with a so-fresh squeezed orange juice. I was hungover and  reeling a bit from all the smoking in the cafe (I know, right… ex-smokers are the WORST!) Amsterdam is a wonderful, busy city to really stand back and people watch — with painted human statues in the square, to Scientology Church protesters in "Eyes Wide Shut" faceless masks, to "coffee bar" junkies (yes, I could smell them, no I didn't go in), to "Moms" attempting to dispel the use of drugs… in Amsterdam? ("No, this one is for NO drugs!") WTF?

 
I'm not one for waiting in 2-hour lines for the Anne Frank House, but it was definitely a highlight to see the historic place in history, if only from the outside. Another truly memorable emotional point was The Homomonument dedicated to all those persecuted against in the bi/gay/lesbian lifestyle.

And, I LOVE this city! I cannot wait to make a complete trip out of visiting Amsterdam (and hopefully during bloom season). Next time, I'll bring a lot more cash.