Thursday, May 03, 2012

Von Dutch Baby

(I want to believe that at some point in time, the title of this post was a Wheel of Fortune Before and After puzzle)

Today I'm blogging from a cafe near the Van Gogh museum in Amsterdam. Im drinking a cappuccino, but make no mistake, I am not in a "coffeeshop" because that would be a hash joint. 

This confused me for my first few hours cruising around the city because there are tons of coffeeshops, only instead of a hip Starbucks vibe , they give off a skeezy macramé and Foghat je nais ce qua. 

Then I started noticing the names of the shops and putting the aromatic hints together. 

Granted I'm in the heart of Amsterdam, not the burbs, but even at 10am this morning I rode my bike thru cloud after cloud after cloud of ganga smoke.

 It's a wonder that anything gets done around here. "Smoke two joints in the morning" and the rest of your day's activities better include eating or writing rasta songs , or else it ain't happenin'. Just sayin'

Speaking of skeezy, there is a serious imbalance of smoldering hot young chicks and gross guys here. Maybe the guys "drink" too much "coffee" and the chicks ride their bikes all day between magazine shoots, I don't know. Whatever the case, it's another thing about this city that creeps me out (and would ultimately make me depressed about my un-hotness and cause me to wear a bag over my head if I had to live here).

Especially near our hotel, I feel like I'm on Pinoccio's Pleasure Island, and everyone's about grow donkey tails and get tossed into the canal boats. It's not that I'm disgusted with lifestyles here, generally Im not. But I guess the paid-sex , hash clouds, and pickpocket trifecta tends to put one on edge. 


There are tons of Americans here. Tons. I've heard almost as much US English as I have Dutch. They must be getting bulk travel discounts (maybe you can send in a bunch of Dave Matthews Band ticket stubs and get a reduced rate?)

Like I said I'm *near* the museum(s) but waiting in Disneyland-level lines (but no Fast Pass!) seems ludicrous to me, so I haven't been inside a single art museum since arriving on the continent. I don't think the artists that made the art inside would wait in those kinds of lines, which gives me permission to bike around and get lost (literally) instead. 

But tomorrow, Louvre must be conquered. Lines be damned!...

1 comment:

Laura Seymour said...

are you traveling alone? in europe? jealous.