HURRAY FOR AMSTERDAM!
i, unlike every other tourist, didn't go to amsterdam for the pot...or the prostitutes (though i got way more of both than i wanted). i went for this:
that's the anne frank house. we saw the actual diary that anne frank used. awesome.
i also went to eat a fresh stroopwafel, but those things are harder to find than a short dutchman.
celeste and i rented bikes to get around, just like real dutch people. we rode them brazenly with no respect for pedestrians or other bikers, just like real dutch people. we dinged that little bell everytime someone dared to cross our path, just like real dutch people. we stopped every several feet to check our map, not like real dutch people. then we ate some tiny pancakes. (poffertjes)
and we looked at van gogh paintings. and i bought 13 packages of stroopwafels. still no fresh ones, though.
the dutch love fried things. i have speared on my fork what i can only imagine was deep fried vomit (kroket), because that's what it tasted like. also, you can see what appeared to be a deep fried 3 week old 7-11 hot dog (frikandel). that deep fried cheese though, yumma! (kaassouffle)
i flirted with every dutch guy i saw. the taller they were, the more i flirted. i guess i'm a sucker for a tall one. i was mistaken for a dutch girl several times. i'm not sure why. i'm 5 1/2 feet tall. i don't speak a word of dutch. and i wasn't wearing wooden shoes (neither was anyone else). one guy thought i was kidding when i kept saying (in my american accent using english) "i don't understand what you're saying." so he gave me wooden tulips.
we saw this cute little village and ate these greasy pastry balls with two friendly ladies.
bought some cheese. looked at some wooden shoes. made a polish friend on the bus. "cities are like people. they can be very beautiful, but that's not enough. just because they're pretty, doesn't mean they're interesting. and often the cities that aren't the best to look at, are the most interesting and have the most to offer." he changed my life. he also had only one arm.
went to the ice bar. everything is ice. and cold. and because ice and cold aren't really that much fun, it wasn't the highlight of my life. but it was fun eating my shot glass. you don't get to do that every day.
and then it happened. at the amsterdam wonderland, i found what i'd been searching for:
i had my dutch-syle (in a cone, slathered with curry and mayonnaise) french fries in one hand and my crispy, warm, gooey stroopwafel in the other. sweetpagene was in heaven (and likely very near cardiac arrest).
mission: accomplished.
tot ziens, der nederlanden!
