AmsterDam Good Times...

Oh come on, everybody loves a cheesy pun!

Amsterdam is fantastic - its a gorgeous city with so much to do, the people are laid back and friendly, and the local cyclists seem to regard traffic lights as an assault on their freedom of movement.
The cafe's are suitably alternative and cozy. My favourite was a place called Bagels & Beans.
My first bagel in four months was sesame seed with goat cheese, honey, walnuts and thyme, i.e. perfecton on a plate.

One of the things that kept astonishing me was how quiet Amsterdam is. I hardly ever heard any shouting or even overly-loud laughing, and the trams just glide by like a blue-streaked hallucination.

It was actually really weird, but wonderful!


The tree-lined street canals provide perpetual shade and fresh breezes, and the variety of houseboats in amazing, from shabby-chic to downright posh.




The center is mazed with alleyways, where most of the coffee shops can be found, along with some quiet little stores and the strangest signs, like this HELP sign that looks like its floating:


There were entire squares converted to terraces for the surrounding bars and restaurants, all of them in really nice areas.


The toppled/slanted look of the buildings gave the streets a quirky kind of character that I was fascinated with for brief but recurring periods (look at the gap between those two buildings).

Check out this duck-thing! It had the weirdest feet! I'm gonna feel like a moron if everyone else has known what this is since grade 4 or something but I've never seen one before. I first spotted it in a park where I was relaxing near the water, and at the time I was totally captivated with this new-to-me species (you can imagine why... :)


On a historical note, this castle at Nieuwmarkt has a pretty gory past - they used to hang the bodies of executed people on the side wall, and it's been the site of a few violent riots. But you'd never know - it's now a bar.

Good thing the bloodstains are gone ... nothing deters patio-goers like evidence of executions.


The Van Gogh Museum was my institutionalized-culture-of-choice for Amsterdam. I realize now that I didn't take any pictures. It just didn't occur to me, I guess because I was way too fascinated with reading everything and staring at his work. And I do mean staring (again, you can imagine why I was so ... let's say, entranced).

The other very cool thing I came cross was Homomonument (yes that's what it's called, I took a picture for proof), which is the first monument to persecuted gays and lesbians on the planet. Go Holland.


So, the famed red light district. Walking around in the early afternoon is quite a surreal experience. People out for a stroll, Moms with kids in tow, and prostitutes in every third window. With half a seconds glance at the first scantily-clad lady I passed, she resembled a lingerie mannequin. She moved and gave me a bit a start. Gotta watch out for those prostitutes man, they jump right out at'cha.

At night...it's quite different. All the same stuff is open in the daytime but it's so much more prominent all lit up in neon. And the vibe is much more whooo-let's-party.


Of course, even the fluorescent lights were naughty (tee-hee).


These gentleman, in front of the Moulin Rouge, have executive manners and filthy mouths - a racy combination indeed!


It has to be done. I'm sitting on the T in this picture to give you an idea of how huge this sign is. And I have no idea why it's there ha.


Nick and I biked into Abcoude (near the hostel) one night for dinner, where a certain Dutchman took a liking to the many pockets on Nick's cycling jacket, and invited himself to our table.

This guy was hilarious.

His English was such that he couldn't always find the words for what he wanted to say but his vocabulary was fantastically random. He described his drinking and 'chaotic' and referred to my purse as a 'cesspool of excitement'! Hilarious.

The hostel is a campsite with caravans and little bungalow dorm rooms, and since there's a lake close by, there were ducklings everywhere. Fuzzy-adorableness every day.

The early morning vibe of the hostel was quiet, a little dazed, and certainly bent on recovery. This 9:30 am candid shot perfectly captures it:



So Amsterdam is a wicked city. My only complaint is the hoards of yankee frat boys that descend on the city center starting around late afternoon. It's like the Borg - indistinguishable drones and total hive behaviour.

Aside from that, it was very mellow (or maybe that was just me...). I loved just strolling down the canals, in and out of cafes and bookshops, sitting in parks...

Oh, and the live sex show was pretty cool too ;)

Antwerp...Meh.

Antwerp wasn't much of a thrill for me. I don't know why.

The museums were uninspired and the city was pleasant enough but not necessarily distinctive.

Although, in a way, it reminded me of Toronto: so multicultural, strong underground scene, and in the neighbourhood where I was staying, tons of Hasidic jews running around. So that was kind of cool.

The hostel I stayed at was fantastic though. It was really small and cozy, like staying at a friend's place. That was nice after so many big, comparatively impersonal operations.

The streets were fun to walk around, lots of cool little shops and interesting architecture:





I love how this fountain spouts out to the surrounding cobblestones instead of a pool:


Cool little candy shop with erotic chocolates like kama sutra and of course the requisite chocolate genitalia.


This little spot in the center of the city is a legal graffiti zone:





I was however, monumentally impressed with the chocolate (surprise, surprise).
And I got a sweet (no pun intended) deal on a perfect souvenir t-shirt.


With less external stimulation than I'd expected, I withdrew into my book, my journal and my thoughts. It was comforting to retreat for a little while. I thought a lot about the people in my life that really mean a lot to me.

In case there are moments in your day when you wonder where I am or what I might be up to:

* maybe I'm standing in line in a dutch mini-market buying that long-life crap that passes for milk here.

* maybe I'm sitting on a park bench listening to the myriad languages being spoken, chattered, sung and whispered.

* maybe I'm marveling at the beer selection and taking forever to decide, as usual.

* maybe I'm chatting with some Aussie chicks, Mexican guys or fellow Canadians at the hostel bar.

* maybe I'm between locales, zooming through towns and countrysides that, if I ever see them again, will never be the same.

* maybe I'm laughing, or maybe I'm somber and reflective.

* maybe I'm in a bookstore, judging books by their cover in hopes of finding the next literary work to affect me, shake me, soothe me.

* maybe I'm sitting in the corner of a crowd, alert and engrossed with people's displays and especially their subtle gestures when they think no one is looking.

* maybe I'm freakin' livid and for lack of someone to vent with, I just seethe on the inside until something cool distracts me.

* maybe I'm realizing that I'm comforted by the fact that a fellow Canadian asks if she can turn the "big light" off. If shared language provokes a sense of belonging, it goes double for slang and regional sayings.

* maybe I'm sleeping, dreaming about you at the exact moment you're thinking about me, and waking up wishing you were here.

In Flanders Fields: Bruges

What a perfect little medieval city! For sure one of the most picturesque places I've seen. So many bridges and canals, half the city is made up of parks, and there are swans...'nuff said.

In two days I became a regular at this cafe:

Some of the bridges were castles in and of themselves:

And the city is replete with tiny alleyways to explore:

Oh, and this was my other regular perch:

Bruges is a jumble of different styles of architecture, most of which they call neo-gothic but there are some Roman buildings thrown into the mix.

The Jerusalem Church, with the sun and moon on either side:

A genuine medieval crane built by students based on original blueprints. Apparently some aristocrat way-back-when complained that it spoiled his view, so he set it on fire ha.

Bruges used to be full of windmills - many of them were used to mill grain - but now there are only four, kept for historic interest.

Swans!

They even have their own little ramps to and from the water...

Baby can't quite figure out the ramp-concept, so Mama jumped back in to demonstrate...it still took baby a few more tries. Too adorable for words...

How envious am I of these canal-side terraces and gardens...

On that table there is an open book and a bottle wine - it couldn't be more perfect.

The funniest thing I heard about Bruges is that they once had an excessive rat problem (which of course reminded me of Molly Shannon - just watch it, it never stops being funny...).

So, as the story goes, the canals were riddled with giant mutated rats (that's right lol) apparently due to the nearby nuclear plant, so the experts decided to bring in a crocodile to deal with this fish-and-swan-killing infestation. It worked, and the crocodile is still kept in one of the harbours in case the rats return. How hilarious is that?

I'm kinda sad to leave Bruges, it's so godamned pretty. But there is more of Belgium, and I've got an early train...