Sep 29, Oct 1,2 2000 Amsterdam
flight DL38 Atlanta-Amsterdam depart 5:55 arrive 0800
Friday, Sep 29
Very professional flight attendants. 13A window seat. Business Class on the MD-11. Seared turbot with a great wine for supper. Variety of cheeses with grapes and a Portugese Port. Courvoisier cognac & coffee. Funky movie with Kevin Spacek.. killed by his wife. Slept. Woke me up too soon. Need a longer flight. Passing over UK. English Channel out the window. Ate croissant, butter & jelly breakfast. Landed & coasted to the gate.
Saturday, Sep 30
Finding my way through Schipol airport. They could have better signs. No smoking signs everywhere fixed on top of ashtrays. Found a cash machine and took out NLG 500. According to my chart, that was/oughta be about US$200. Found my way to customs. Thru & out. Found a train ticket machine. Closely observed others as they inserted cards and punched buttons. My turn. Odd language markings all over the box. Not a clue. Felt like a total alien. Asked the fellow behind me if it took credit cards. He said no, had to be their card. Got out of his way.
Strolled out the front entrance for a smoke and first look at Amsterdam. Leaning against the artwork wall entrance smoking. Large digital display across the broad way played TV like commercials. Sound included. Young fellow with obvious mental challenges came out with his sign and stood two meters away. I watched as another challenged man of older but indeterminate age came out of the airport and pretend to kick at his sign. Unflinching young fellow did not acknowledge his presence or antics. Older fellow walked on laughing. Young fellow stood and continued to drool.
I went back into Schipol. Wandered and finally saw 2 meter high letters I missed earlier that spelled out TRAIN TICKETS. Got in line. Behind lotsa other people. Waiting. Heard loud cursing in Spanish. I turned along with everybody else to see two Dutch policeman dragging the curser away. As they passed, the guy looked up at one of the cops and said in Spanish, *go to the beach?*. I decided then that Amsterdam was gonna be a hoot. After discussion with the patient ticket-lady, I bought my one-way ticket to Centraal Station. Wandered and found my way to the moving sidewalk down to platform number 4. Two-decker train pulled up and took a while to unload. Went upstairs to a window seat. Nice train. Nice seats. Older gentleman sat across from me. Loud French assholes found their way to the back of the car. Talked and laughed loudly the whole trip. Traveled thru tunnels to light and uninteresting scenery. Watching for a Centraal sign. Not there. All others got up to get off and I asked. I got off with them at Centraal.
Outside the station were the first of thousands of bicycles. Walked across the street and quickly figured out that pedestrians better watch their butt. Trams, cars and bicycles take the right of way. Strolled up the main concourse. Not sure where it went but everybody else was going that way so it seemed like a good idea. Found a shop and bought a bunch of postcards, stamps and a city map. Nice young lady ran the register. Stopped at a likely looking alfresco coffee shop. Sat a few minutes. Asked the German couple next to me if it was self-service. They said no. Sat. Waited. Went inside. Waitresses in Playboy Bunny costumes were ganged up by the bar chatting. Left. Wandered up to another alfresco café. Sat & ordered coffee. Parked bikes lined the sidewalks and blocked the view. Looked at the map and decided I was in Dam Square. I was looking at the National Palace across the way and National Monument to something in front of me. Enjoyed the coffee. Second cup. Tried to find the hotel address on the map but none of the name were pronounceable. Searched for similar character stings. Asked the waiter to look at the map and my hotel reservation and tell me which direction. He pointed and said about two blocks away. Behind the National Palace. Paid, tipped and strolled by the bikes to the hotel.
Checked in. Can have room 523 at 2PM. It was 11:30. Stashed the bag. Overheard the desk clerk tell some guy - sorry , they were fully booked. Glad I had reserved over the net. Took the camera and back onto the streets. Camera metering no longer works. Estimated the setting and started shooting. Up another avenue off Dam Square. Nother sidewalk café. More coffee. Wrote postcards. First beer. They did not have Amstel. Had Bavaria. Wandered down the avenue looking for a Post Office, camera shop and whatever else Amsterdam had to show. Stopped at the first canal to soak it in. Took a picture of The Hemp Museum. Looked closer then walked over to closely examine their eight foot high pot plant. Fellow came out toking a joint and blowing smoke. Vaguely familiar smell. Carried me back. Wandered down the street with the canal on my right. Sex show signs on my left. Twisted puppies advertise perverse sex shows. Saw the first of ladies in windows. Quite unattractive. Found a corner bar for a beer and to use the facilities. Bartender tossed the beer while I was in the loo. Replaced it with apologies when I came back. Out and about. Wandered into the Chinese section of town. Real Chinatown. Chinese people with Chinese signs. Wandered. Found my way back to my part of town. Past main boulevard and down some street dedicated to shopping. Found a camera shop and bought exactly the right battery. Replaced the old one perfectly. Made no difference. 35 year old Canon FT-QL is gradually giving up the ghost. Sad resignation. Another old friend passes. Strolled on. Bought Amsterdam prints & lighter. Bought my souvenir bottle of Amstel from waitress that broke the rules by giving me an unopened bottle as I sat at an outside table. Tipped generously.
Into the hotel. Got the bag and found the room. Quaint. Not the usual 4 star. Sparse. Top floor. Slanted roof. Figured it must be Northern European chic. Gradually relaxed, undressed. Made notes. Turned on funky European TV. Strange. Tall canned Heinikeins from the portable mini-bar. Bed was hard. Did not matter. Made notes. Sorted out belongings. Asleep at 1930 local time. Awake at 0100. Dormer windows were just above industrial strength lighting that accented hotel facade. Flooded the room with incandescence. Starving. Mini bar only had funny looking cookies. Passed. Watched TV till 0400. Turned off everything except the infernal floodlights. Left the window open and air conditioner (oscillating fan) running. Crashed. Slept like a rock.
Sunday, Oct 1
Slept til 0945. Up, showered, dressed and out in bare time to make 1030 end of brunch. Sliced, processed meat with a soft boiled egg(in shell) and funny round bread. Scrambled eggs and bacon were long gone. Cheese slices and odd condiments. Ate a bunch. Out and about. Drizzling light rain. Tried to hail a cab from the hotel entrance. They would not stop. Walked up to one and asked what the trick was. No good answer but told me Anne Frank house was about 2 blocks thataway. Strolled in that direction. Kept asking whomever where it was. Kept going thataway. Finally saw a line of people standing in the rain. Figured that must be it. Correct. Waited 30+ minutes. Paid NLG 10 at the ticket window. Whole place has be redone to accommodate so many tourists. Little hard to tell where the real stuff starts. Wandered and read all the small signs. Semi-depressing. Tough life. Tried to imagine what it was like for a child in that place under those circumstances. Somebody turned them in after 2+ years of hiding. They were hauled away to concentration camps. Anne died thinking that all the others were dead. Her father survived and published her diary. Into the souvenier shop. Bought prints, postcards and books.
Out and about. Down the street / canal stopped for coffee. Beautiful, quaint, old and new houseboats on the canal. Wondered what life there was like. Houses leaned this way and that. Old and settling. Checked the map, paid the tab and headed out. Strolled in what I hoped was the right direction. More ladies in windows. Must be a nicer part of town because the ladies have definitely improved. Friendly smiles from Fredericks of Hollywood. Smiled back.. kept going. Decided to go one more block then turn right. One more block brought me back to my hotel. Feeling rather cocky about my newfound natural sense of direction. Into the hotel. Stashed my purchases.
Out and back to Dam Square. Large party going on. Never saw the performers but some lady was singing something pretty in a voice like Marlene Dietrich. Mounted Dutch cops stood at the ready on the background edge of the square. Large crowd. Headed up what I hoped was the right street to Van Gogh museum. Quite a hike. Busy streets. Tons of people. After about an hour hike, many questions to locals and several map checks, arrived at Van Gogh. Queued up for a ticket. This one was NLG 24.50. Included the audio unit. Inside. Checked my jacket & umbrella. Found *The Potato Eaters*. Looked closely and at length. Listened to the audio. Fascinating. First painting he put people in. Odd people. Odd person. Wandered and looked at hundreds of paintings. So much beauty at once is a little numbing. Signs said no picture taking. I obeyed. Others started taking pictures. What the hell. Lady guard came up and told me *no pictures* after I snapped 3 or 4 and was lining up number 5. Wandered into the souvenir shop. Bought prints, postcards and books.
Back out and about. Headed back to Dam square. Learned that when you hear ka-ching, ka-ching you better get the hell out of the way. Got several nasty looks and close calls from bicyclers. Watching for bike-path signs. Back to Dam square. Red light district. Back over to main boulevard. Back over to seedy part of town. Small coffee shops that did not seem to sell much coffee. Customers were not Sunday school types. Torn up streets. Walking on mushy sand. They apparently plan to replace the brick pavement. Tried for pictures. Funky atmosphere. Still lotsa people but there was a different feeling in the air. I sensed that there were a lot of stories there. Not scary. Very funky.
Found a Chinese restaurant. Had duck. Real Chinese. Great food. Too much food on the plate as usual. Busy place. Whiz in the loo. Pants zipper busted. Back out. Snapped pictures of lighted bridges over quaint canals. Beautiful in the night. Wandered into a casino. Inside there was nothing but slot machines. Probably more but I did not go looking. Played a Guilder and won six more. Lost them. OK. Gambling lust satisfied. Back out and down the street.
Found Dam square. Found Port die Van Cleve hotel. Up funky elevator. Back to 523. Sorted and packed clothes and treasures. Tried to fix the pants zipper. Hopeless. Tomorrow will be interesting. Crashed.
Monday, Oct 2
6AM wake up call. 3 hours sleep not enough. Light blasting through dormer windows not a problem. Slept like a rock and could have slept longer. Up. smoked, brushed, showered & shaved. Busted shower control was not fixed since yesterday. No washcloth. Nothing in the freebie basket. Left no tip. Did not turn on funky Euro-TV. Glad I packed the night before. Collected stuff and packed the camera. Very full bag. Pants hung alright. Busted zipper would be a problem all day but nothing jumped out at you. Last room check. Out and down on the ancient elevator. Checked out 0645.
0700 Taxi driver was already waiting. Desk clerk said about 65 Guilders to the airports. Taxi driver said about 85. Said, yes, he would take US$. Apparently already had the meter running as well. No smoking in the cab. Early morning traffic no problem. Hauling ass on the highway, Cell phone rang, he swerved, answered, I found and latched my seat belt. Dropped me off at Schipol terminal 2. Tab was 86 Guilders. Told me their exchange was US$20 equals 40 Guilders. Showed him my clipped printout of Oanda rate of US$20 = 49 Guilders. Gave him NLG 36 and US$21. He looked hard and said OK. No tip. Smoked outside then went into Terminal 2. Walked and looked. No Delta signs. Asked young lady at somebodys airline. She told me US/International flights were in Terminal 3. Out the door and down the walkway. Dip shit cab driver. Into Terminal 3. Found Delta ticket agents. Nice lady told me be at gate G4 at 0930. It was 0730. Found my way through customs. Nice folks. No problem.
Wandered the international concourse and duty-free shops. Tried a squirt of Yves St Laurent colonge. Remembered that I tried it before. Still dont like it. No golf shirts. Slacks cost US$110. Decided I could walk all day with my sports coat over my arm in front. Found restarurant/bar. Had delicious coffee with just as tasty almond biscuits. Music was mellow and no crowds. Ordered another coffee and shot of Irish Whiskey. Paddy Irish Whiskey tasted OK. Packed quite a punch. Left around 0845. Found concourse and power sidewalks to G4. Answered all the questions from the friendly security guy correctly. Made it through the metal detector. Checked in with the gate agent. I found a seat in the sun and read my book about Anne Frank. Announcement said it was a full flight so everybody should cooperate. Finally called. Seat 1C. Thankful. Onboard and sorted things out. Trying not to forget the cardborard tube of prints. Checked the menu. Decided on the chicken. Left middle front row seat on the MD-11. Approximately 1st seat behind the pilot. No window but Business Elite seat with all the accoutrements. Stashed the bag and settled in. We rolled out. Planes and the airport were out the right window. Looking. Watched the airport and planes. Lotsa KLM 747s. Talked with unnamed pretty girl in the next seat. She was frightened. She did not like takeoffs or landings. Joked. I tried to make light of it. Took off. Told her how much fun it was. Watched out the far windows at the countryside and shore as we banked. Wondrous sight. Up and flying. She opened her eyes. I showed her how and pulled out the in-chair video unit. Flight attendant delivered warm washcloth, dish of warm nuts and Tangueray & tonic.
Flight attendant, Carol introduced herself after I did. Nice lady. Got cheese bread and passed on the salad. Tried Vigonier Coindreau white wine. Like sipping flowers. Found the wine list and saved it. Service was pleasantly paced. Not rushed. Chicken with chili-sauce was great. Ate my fill. Had grapes and cheese with crackers and bread. Blue-veined cheese was great. Grapes were most beautiful yet but not tasty. Ate cheese, crackers, bread and ice wine. Wonderful.
Watching *Patriot*. Great show. Crashed. Woke up within 30 minutes because of loud-mouths in nearby seats. Talking serious business and trying to impress each other with their insightful grip on the situation.
Slept fitfully as far as New York. Awake and ready to be there. Landed in Atlanta and off the plane. Walking down the concourse to customs realized I did not have the tube of prints. Panic. Amsterdam canals, Anne Frank and Van Gogh were lost. Tried to remember if I had brought them aboard. Back down the concourse. Pleasant gentleman stopped me. I cannot go back. I Explained. Young fellow came up the stairs. I explained and told him which overhead. He disappeared. Back in 5 minutes with the tube. Nice folks.
Through customs, out the E gate exit to the shuttle bus. 40 minute wait. Home again.
Copyright 2000 Larry Whittington
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