Sex, Drugs and Soccer
Trip Start Jan 31, 1996
301Trip End Ongoing
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Amsterdam is Paris, but smaller. Venice, but with less tourists. Sitting at any one of the numerous cafes along the treelined canals with a tiny glass(25cl)of La Chouffe or De Koninck beer is heavenly. How we make it home to our hotel without getting stoned simply from the scent of marijuana that flows from establishments called "coffee houses" is a mystery. Hookers in storefront windows, marijuana in restaurants. What a remakable city. If only they knew baseball.
Later that night:
Our Internet booked hotel is near the train station, adjacent the Red Light district
I read in one of our guide books that Amsterdam - probably because all of its pot smoking - is normally a quiet city that closes early. But not now. It's all beer, beer and more beer. Soccer has done this to us and we'll never forgive the game. Tonight other matches will be played and it will happen all over again. I expect that in the entire continent there will be no escaping the blight.
Tomorrow night, maybe I'll be able to convince Ellen to go to a live late-night sex show. I've heard tales of dutch donkeys; that might take our minds off bloody soccer.