Greetings from Amsterdam

If I were to describe Amsterdam in one sentence this would be it: Earth's meeting place for its coolest inhabitants.



 

 

This was the first time during my travels that I found myself completely on my own, but ironically, I have never felt more surrounded by people. I think there is an unwritten resident requirement that you have to be an unreasonably content person in order to live here. Walking down the street you will simply look out of place if you’re not smiling, because everyone else is!

 

 



This is said to bring you good luck when you rub it! 



 

Meeting new people proved much easier as an independent traveler. There was the Greek receptionist who enlightened me to a 20 minute philosophical chat over the meaning of life in the lobby,  the enthusiastic Brazilian on the bottom bunk of my bed who I convinced to do the traditional Brazilian Creo dance Chanelle had taught me, and lastly the shy British fellow I met on the terrace outside.  He opened up to me about his struggles as an environmental engineer in a world that just doesn't seem to care.  That’s the mentality of this generation for you: "don't fix it until it breaks".  Too bad you can't put a Band-Aid on the ozone layer.

 





Vondel Park was a two minute walking distance from my hostel and I thought it would be nice to read under a tree just before sunset one evening. I didn't even open my book. After two hours in that park I was having a very difficult time understanding why people pay money to go to the circus when you could just sit in Vondel Park for free. There were people walking on their hands, hula-hooping, having 3 legged races, rolling around in the grass, and I even saw three people rubbing dirt on their bodies so passionately it was as if they were going to absorb it like heroin through their skin. I think they are only mildly influenced by drugs...




 

 I visited Amsterdam its prime days.  All of the coffee shops (licensed marijuana sellers) are restricting sales of this green plant to locals only, in hopes that the business will slowly die off.  I changed hostels on the second day and when I went to drop my bags in the room I found two of my roommates hiding under the bed.  These were two fully grown men, squeezing together under a bunk bed shaking with fear.  They were so scared that they scared me.  I was looking around to see if they were being held at gun point, and when I noted they were alone in the room I asked if they were okay.

“The cyclists are trying to kill us!” was all they could stammer. 



They are rather scary...



They had started off the day with 3 Space Cakes (special brownies if you will) for breakfast,  then wandered around the streets aimlessly, and had almost been run over a few times by the many Amsterdam cyclists.  Paranoia can be a major side effect of marijuana, and they began to speculate they were being hunted down by anyone passing them on pedals.  Maybe it’s a good thing the industry is dying down for visitors like these folks.