The End of Amsterdam

Haven't had the chance to post some older blog posts - so here is one for your enjoyment.


I did it. I asked a local where some good Nasi is, and then proceeded to find the Indonesian restaurant that she described. Only to find it closed. My dream of becoming a fantastic world traveller was smooshed before had begun. Katie and I walked around most of Amsterdam after our Heineken tour in a bit of a daze until we found ourselves… well… back at the Heineken experience. Amsterdam has a funny way of doing that to visitors. We stopped back in and found our informative host and asked to find us another possibility. Katie and I made a brief pit stop at the exhibits only to find our host was missing. Depressed and hungry we tottered on to find something acceptable to eat – no more cardboard oatmeal from home.

I suppose I should explain some of my goals for Amsterdam.
1. Eat snert
2. Eat Nasi Gorgen
3. See the Anne Frank Huis
4. Van Gogh, Van Gogh, Van Gogh – but only to see Starry Night
5. Walk through local areas where the true feeling of Amsterdam can actually be felt.
6. See the smallest house in the world.

I did 4 of 6. It’s a pass. Starry night was on tour somewhere else in the world, and the fact that its not wintertime crushed my ability to divulge into Snert.

Continuing the story, we chatted and padded through the street of Amsterdam in hopes of finding our way to the smallest house in the world before it got too dark. Katie pointed out – “hey, there’s an Indonesian place.” It happened to be the exact restaurant that had been suggested to us by the employee at the Heineken Experience! And it was open! It was our first experience with the European style of taking a break in the afternoon. We sauntered in, took inventory of the situation, and approved that this would be authentic Indonesian cuisine. And that it was. Sorry mom but this kicked the crap out of your Nasi, although I think some of the spices may have been similar (clearly – as it’s the same dish!)

We ate and drank wine – after deciding it would be cheaper than water anyways and filled our tummies with this lekker food. Continuing on that evening we did find the smallest house in the world, which Mariete gladly helped me find the address for, and looking like complete idiots composed yoga poses in front of the door – which is basically the width of the house. A young Asian man was walking down the street as our shenanigans continued, pulled out his keys, and proceeded to enter into the house! After a few minutes we spotted him staring at us confusingly from one of the upper windows. Therefore, we actually saw the man who lives in the smallest house in the world too! We are practically superstars.

Last night Katie and I watched some more HIMYM episodes and then passed out. Until we were rudely awakened by… well I should give you some background on our hostel. It consists of 10 beds on the fourth floor in the fourth room. There is Katie and I, a girl from China, four girls who were travelling together and five middle aged ladies rattling of in Italian. These women were clearly on some sort of girls excursion. They sat in their pyjamas on each other’s beds chatting, laughing, and calling home ending their conversations with ciao! Ci-ci-ci-ciao-ciao-ciao. They reminded me of some other ladies I know who seem to plan an excursion once a year to rough it.

So anyways – 3 am hit this morning to the loudest screaming of bloody murder my ears have ever witnessed. I was awoken from my dream that I had missed my plane to Florence, and actually thought there was some sort of gunman in the room. The terrified version of Italian is not that pleasant and the uncontrollable laughter from the woman’s four friends did not assist my heartbeat desparately attempting to slow down. I checked my little alarm clock to see what time it was. It said, 12:30. The batteries hadn’t been connected and my alarm wouldn’t have gone off to wake me for my flight. I reset it, double checked it, and turned over and said “shhhhh per favoure!”

I am sitting on an airplane heading to my second destination on time, with little to no sleep under my belt. But I did wake up this morning to catch my train to Schipol and then my flight to Firenze. Thanks crazy Italian ladies snoring, mumbling, screaming, and laughing throughout the entire night!