Amsterdam & Beyond
Janet and I flew into Amsterdam, landing mid-afternoon with several hours to kill before catching the night train to Basel, Switzerland. Having never been to the Netherlands before I would have liked to stay a while longer but with only two weeks to spare we choose to spend longer periods of time in fewer places.
We experience the usual disorientation one gets flying west for 10 hours but landing almost a full day later. We slept on the dead-full flight as we sped into darkness and then into light, but the rest wasn’t exactly nourishing. We land and find that none of our plastic works in the ATM and it takes a while to learn about the microchip adopted by the Europeans but rejected by the Americans. So we hit the exchange window to convert some dollars and catch a train into Central Amsterdam. Once we find a locker for our luggage and purchase a map we can’t read we stagger out of the station and straight into the Red Light District.
With the exception of one belle who must have been new to the business, the girls in the windows were uninspiring. Some day if I feel like I need a good beating I could go get better acquainted, but not likely. Late-adolescent males populate the sidewalks; excited to legally purchase pot they can smoke in public. Heavy eyelids and flaccid faces give away the experienced while the newbies display looks of astonished incoherence mixed with extreme concentration as they attempt to place one foot in front of the other without falling over. We decide to forgo the experience for now and make our way through the alleys and over the canals, seeking food, coffee and free Wi-Fi.
We find a lovely spot alongside a canal. Janet orders cappuccino and a scone with coddled cream and I order a local beer called Johnnie with french fries and mayonnaise. The waitress giggles when she tells me they are all out of Johnnie and recommends the Willy instead. But she loses it all together when she returns later to blurt, “How’s your Willy? (snort, snort) I always wanted to say that.” Janet quickly explains to her that I crave such inquiries and I tell her my Willy is marvelous as the nice couple next to us try to not to snicker.
It is a fairly long walk back to the station, where we have an 8:30 train to catch. We stop in at one of the more upscale looking coffee shops along the way. The gentleman at the counter recommends a honey laced product from Morocco and for 12 euros he slices off a gram and loans us a pipe. It’s a good thing Janet used restraint, as I don’t think I would have ever found the locker or - for that matter – remembered I owned any luggage.
Janet gets us installed into our first class sleeper coach and converses with the attendant in French as he explains how to use the shower, operate the lights and takes our breakfast order. Janet massages my sore knee – the uneven pavers have been punishing - and I fall asleep. Janet - a humanoid version of Ricochet Rabbit – awakens me from time to time in the wee hours as she excitedly bounces around the cabin in anticipation of seeing old friends in Switzerland. Breakfast is served before we disembark in Basel and immediately catch the 7:03 to Geneva.
Next: meeting up with old friends.