My last day in Amsterdam...

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  Amsterdam, Netherlands
Thursday, May 22, 2008

Osam rang me at 10:30 am, telling me the sun was hot and I should be out in it. I slept little during the night, so I had an early breakfast and went back to bed. I'm glad Osam woke me. I had things to do...

I went first to the post office, to send a final postcard. THIS time, instead of selling me a 0,92 Euro stamp, the clerk charged me 1.20 euro and place a large sticker over the zipcode. I was annoyed that she placed the sticker there and wearily took the card back to re-write the zipcide so it could be delivered. She said, "NO! You *mustn't* take the card from me. It remains here now!" I told her that she *mustn't* cover the zipcode or it will be undeliverable in the USA. She glared at me when I re-wrote the zipcode below her stickerwerk. I was puzzled and asked her why I could not buy a stamp and mail it on my own. She cast baleful eyes at me and whined that stamps are only sold in books of five. That is very odd. The other day I bought 12 stamps---from the same place. Hmm. I then went to the fotoshop to download my datacard again. Deja vu. Same shop, same datacard, same instructions and *more* photos to download, yet today it cost me 5,50 euro and three days ago it cost me ten euro. Hmmm. I dont get it.

I next went to the docks in front of the Victoria HOtel for a 90 minutes harbor cruise. It was part of my "I Am Amsterdam" card, which in retrospect, turned out to be a rip. I could not figure out the trams ( and I am fairly proficient at that ) the buses only ran at night, the canal buses didnt go anywhere I wanted to be, and the few perks I got from the card would have been best paid for independently. I would have come out ahead. I will tell people in the future, to forego the *I AM Amsterdam* card unless they are going to be endlessly taking advantage of the specific sponsors. THe cruise was longer and better than the canal cruise I took a few days ago. I saw the "modern" AMsterdam and got a much better perspective on people who live in the newest part of town. DINKs are the only ones that can afford the modern apartments and it is prestigeous to do so. In the middle of the tour, the tourguide became very excited and pointed out that we would be skirting around a large barge with a backhoe on it. They were pulling bicycles out of the canal. They claim that there are a million bikes in Amsterdam. Ten thousand bikes per year are stolen and dumped into the canals. Eventually they pile up so as to obstruct water traffic. The man operating the backhoe would plunge it into the water and pull up bicycles. Lots of them. They became a monumental pile on the barge. There is a saying that you buy your first bike, you steal the rest. People ride very plain-jane beat up black bikes. Druggies steal them to get their money, and often throw them into the canal if the police get close, or they dont sell them by the end of the day. Also, the guide told us that dispite the foot-high barriers on some canals, the city has to pull 70 cars from the canals in an average year. Bummer!

After the cruise I walked through the red-light district again, and bought a ticket to tour the Erotic Museum. It was cheaply done, with a few valuable artifacts, but mostly framed copies of oriental erotic art that I had seen before. There were some photos from the 1800s that I found both amusing and deeply disturbing. Many of the photos had to do with spanking, oral sex or menage au trois, but one in particular had children in it---obviously made for pedophiles. Sad. I guess that has been going on longer than my brain wanted to admit. The ticket was only five euro and that is about all the tour was worth.

I had tea at the Waag, which is historically the 15th century city gate. It is a large castle-like building that used to be the only way in and out of the city before they dammed the Amstel. Service was slow, and I gave up on ordering dinner and instead walked back to Dam Square. I found a pizzaria where I was shown to a small table near the back. A group of four college age boys were just over my left shoulder and they clearly thought that I could not speak English! OMG the things they discussed, as young men, thinking they had the privacy of their native tongue. I heard sexcapades, drinking stories, who they thought was a jerk among them, who saw the best hooker and what they would like to do with her, and on and on. I could barely keep my composure and twice I had to fake coughing to prevent my cover from being blown. The funniest thing was also the most bizarre pick-up line I had ever heard. Apparently one of the young men was at a frat party and got so drunk he blacked out. The woman of his fancy was there, and in his effort to woo her into his bed, he said to her, " I would like to condense your farts and drink them." I about died. I finished my pizza and flagged down the waitress. The boys were still completely oblivious to me and I decided to play a joke. I told the waitress to put 4 beers on my tab and serve them to the boys when I left. Then, I pressed a note into her hand and told her to give it to the boys after they get the beers. I wrote on the note: I have been enjoying eavesdropping on all of your conversations. Thank you for the perpective! and I signed it, "Your mother." I left the restaurant and waited about 5 minutes. Then I returned, but stood outside and asked to speak to the female waitress that served me. SHe came out and ran over to me, asking "what did you write on that note?!" When I told her, she laughed merrily and said, "No wonder they all went pale and said OOHHH MYYYYY GAAAAAAWD!" Now it was my turn to laugh.

Back to the Nadia, I dropped off my backpack and lightened my load to just a small purse and my camera. I took a leasurely walk and had dessert at a Pancake Restaurant in the bottom of a canal house. The architecture was amazing and I got a good lesson on what these houses are built on. Hand hewn 12" to 14" SOLID beams crisscrossed the ceiling down here and supported four stories straight up. I ordered the dutch pancake but the cherries were gross and the Kijafa must have been old. It kind sucked. Snapped a few more pics on the way back to the hotel, and began packing to leave in the morning. After I was in my room for about 30 minutes, I heard Osam ask the night clerk if I had returned and how long ago. He used good judgement in not disturbing me.

I am lonely for Brian. I scratched out a few lines of poetry to express what I was feeling;

AMSTERDAM WE'LL MEET AGAIN

There's so much more of you to see
The Oosterkerk, the Zeider Zee,
a one-way fare to Paris in my hand.

Oh Amsterdam I cannot stay~
It is my heart I must obey.
My true love waits within another land.

I walked your streets, I felt your sun
I heard your bells when day was done.
I wandered by canals ablaze with lights,

And evenings in your twilight gown
with sirens singing all around
I cant deny you made me love your nights.

T'were it your charms that filled my need,
then callings I would never heed,
and spend my days and nights with more to yearn.

But one who matters beckons me
and I wont go reluctantly--
God willing, beside him, I will return.

TAS, 5/22/08

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