So, I've long been back in Sydney from my overseas adventure, but lately a few friends have commented (and not through me fishing for compliments) on how much they enjoyed reading my blog while I was away and that I really should keep it up. I had a look through my photos today and realised that I've only posted on San Francisco and that was only half my trip. The rest of the trip was also insanely awesome and deserves some props.
So, after a rather traumatic experience at SFO (note to self: never travel in North America 5 days before to Christmas day again) where I seriously thought I was going to miss my plane (there was running involved and a large amount of swearing), I was on my way to Toronto, Canada. A few hours later and I'm back in the T-dot jumping up and down like crazy person in the airport with my great friend Libby (who I hadn't seen in a couple of years).
The next 7 days is a bit of a blur. I know I got the flu and gastro and Christmas was tucked in there somewhere. Libby and I were heading to Amsterdam for New Years and there were a few nervous days where we weren't sure if we would be able to fly because Heathrow had shut down due to bad weather, but luckily everything went to plan.
We rock up to the airport headed for Amsterdam and it's packed. Post Christmas travel combined with them still trying to clear the backlog due to weather closures and our check-in chick asked us to "wait over there while she tried to find us some seats on the plane". We waited, nervously, to hear back from her. She bounced over after about 15 minutes with a big smile, and what I think might be the best thing I've ever heard "I've found you a couple of seats in Premium Economy." We thanked her profusely and then I said something highly inappropriate about wanting to have her babies (hey, I'd never been bumped up before). Next thing we know, we're seated on our flight and for once I'm on 'that side' of the curtain, which is soon pulled shut so we don't have to have our eyes or ears polluted those less fortunate than us in economy.
After a truly delightful flying experience we touchdown at Heathrow and change planes for the 40 minute flight to Amsterdam. This part was not so delightful. The flight over was super quick, but upon landing, something on the plane broke and we started spewing hydraulic fluid all over the joint. It also meant that our pilot couldn't steer the plane to get us to the terminal. We are stuck out on the runway and can't move until something comes to tow us. A few minutes later the pilot is back on the speaker telling us not to be alarmed by the fire trucks that are now surrounding the plane. Another 15 minutes pass and we're informed that we are, in fact, spewing out a hell of a lot of hydraulic fluid and it is a bit of a problem, our tow will be arriving shortly, but will be towing us out to the furthest point in the airport. While our pilot doesn't say that this is being done because we are now in danger of blowing up not only ourselves but everything around us, but we all know. Who would have thought there would be more danger on the ground than in the air? I'm glad both myself and Libby aren't nervous about flying. We're more annoyed that we've been up since some ungodly hour and we just want off the plane already.
Finally, we're out of the airport and we jump onto a train and a streetcar and we arrive at the Flying Pig Hostel and we're greated with a big hug from Alan, good friend and manager there. He shows us to our 4 bed dorm (I haven't hostelled in quite some time, and I won't be doing so again, I think, ever. Well, certainly not with drunk sleep-talking and snoring boys). Half an hour later, we're settled in and enjoying a beer in the bar (both handy and dangerous being inside the hostel). We have some dinner, more drinks and then we take a walk and I get my first proper look at Amsterdam. The streets are busy and still covered with dirty snow and it's cold out. Regardless, I'm enchanted. The buildings are so old and beautiful, the sky is clear and then there are the canals. At night, the water twinkles with the reflection of the street lights. This my first proper look at Europe and I like it!
Soon enough, it's off to bed for some serious rest. The next few days holds much partying and I'm still recovering from the germs Canada unleashed upon me, so I need my rest.
The next day starts with a big brekkie and lots of walking around Amsterdam. We head to Anne Frank house, only to be disappointed by a queue that goes up the street and around the corner. It's quite chilly out and we don't really fancy a 3 hour wait, so instead we head to the Amsterdam Museum instead and soak up some culture. We head back to the hostel in the late afternoon to await the second of the 'arrivals' (Libby and I being the first). A friend of Libby and Alan's, Jamie, is arriving from London to join the party.
There is much drinking that follows, a brief walk through the red-light district and an interesting cab ride back to the hostel (which involves Alan yelling at the driver in Dutch not to rip us off).
The next morning is a late start (I'm in the best shape given that I only did the one shot of Jagermeister and said no to the Jagerbombs). I wanted to be semi-functioning during the days since I hadn't been to Amsterdam before and all the others had. While Libby and Jamie caught up over lunch, I braved the queue to the Rijksmuseum. Two hours and numb feet later, I'm finally in and it is well worth the wait and the possible multiple toe amputation that I will later have to undergo. I mean the building itself is spectacular (even though half is covered with scaffolding), but it is what is inside that is really special. I remember when I was young and my parents took me to see some of the Old Masters on display at the National Gallery in Canberra and for the first time I saw what I now know to be some of the most famous paintings in the world. While I still do this day remember the paintings I saw there, I wasn't able to fully appreciate what I was seeing and how special it was. This time, standing in the Rijksmusuem, in Amsterdam, in Europe, I was and I felt so lucky. Some people will only ever be able to see a picture in a book or on the internet of either Vermeer's The Milkmaid or Rembrandt's The Night Watch, but not me. I'm one of the lucky ones that has seen it in the flesh!
The next day I'm up for some serious touristy sightseeing. I'm disappointed that the only photos I have of Amsterdam so far have been all been taken in bars!
We hit the Anne Frank house yet again, only to find even longer queues. Instead, we hop on one of the many boats that tour the canals. As much as I like walking around new cities, it was kind of nice to boat around this one. Plus, I was told I had to save my strength for the arrival of something called a 'Giz'. You see, it was also New Years Eve, and the third of the arrivals was en route and apparently, I was unlikely to come out the other side alive.
The boat tour is great. There are 4 different loops you can take, so we change throughout the day and are taken to all four corners of the city.
Our chariot.
I love the houseboats that line the sides of the canals. Since my first visit to Sausalito a few years ago I've often daydreamed about living on one - they just seem so fun.
The building that holds the Amsterdam Science Museum is also a little bit awesome. It looks like a sinking ship.
Amsterdam's super schmancy hotel - the Intercontinental. This is one seriously beautiful building.
We also cruise past the Heineken Brewery, but didn't stop for the tour, since apparently they no longer actually brew the beer that they bottle and sell here. They only do token batches for the tour groups. Boooooo!
A couple of hours later, we put on our New Years Eve duds and hit the bar. After a few bevvies, Giz arrives and the festivities really begin. An agreement was made later that night that the photos we took from the evening would not be posted on facebook, and while I know this isn't facebook, I'm pretty sure that was meant to cover all forms of internet publication. How about I just post a couple of the 'safe' ones.
Our beer of choice and a shot of Jagermeister.
After a round of Jagerbombs.
OK, so they are the only 'safe' ones. Let's just say it was a great night. A New Years Eve that I will definitely remember! Moving on.
The next day we spend feeling very sorry for ourselves. A hearty breakfast (at about 2pm) perks us up a little. We spend our last Amsterdam dinner with Alan. We're all leaving early in the morning: Libby and I for Paris, Alan for Costa Rica and Giz for home.
I have to admit that before my trip, Amsterdam had never made an appearance on my 'to do' list. I've met many a glaze-eyed, knitted rasta cap wearing backpacker in my time and listened to their tales of smoking "so much weed, dude" and loitering around the red light district. It didn't seem all that appealing. Had it not have been for Libby's promise to friend Alan that she would spend New Years there with him (and asking me to come along for the ride) I know that I would still think of it as a city where backpackers go to legally get stoned. After seeing the beauty of the city of Amsterdam and learning a little about the rich history of the Netherlands, I can happily say that it is so much more than that. I only hope it won't be too long before I'm able to return and see more.
Another wonderful thing about Amsterdam? It's only a 2 hour train ride away from Paris. How convenient.
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