One of the guys that I went to the Netherlands´ largest city with is a vegetarian. When I raced him on the moving sidewalk in Sciphol International Airport just after arrival, I felt like the plannet´s biggest hippie. Amsterdam is truly an amazing city, with its canals, old buildings, and cool breeze (very welcome after two weeks in Spain). We took a boat tour of the canals. The Bulldog Palace (shitty name I know) is like Justin and my Milledgeville hang out, Doc´s, but everyone is smoking a joint. For legal reasons, patrons can not buy pot in the bar. They must buy it from the coffee shop next door, but papers are provided at the bar and people are allowed to smoke.
Amsterdam´s ¨Red Light District¨ would be picture-esq. if it was not a playground of smut. It is a canal surrounded on both sides with windows, drenched by red light, containing hookers of all shapes, sizes, ages, and colors. A few things shocked me about the District. Number 1: The locals were so open about it. It was clearly marked on most maps of the city and any resident was glad to point tourist in its direction.
Number 2: The women did a great job at pitching the product. Some were what you world expect, the crack-whore covered in make-up. However, many were very good looking women.
Number 3: I strolled through an ally in the district and watched one text message on her phone. She looked not a day over 19. She motioned for me to speak to her. I asked her how old she was and where she was from. She was 23 and from Bulgaria (I don´t know where that is). She spoke better English than any native of Spain that I have met. I was tempted, but am proud to say that the big head stayed in control, and I left and District with some dignity. Megan would say that my Bulgarian friend thinks with a diferent part of her brain. I am not sure about that, but I do know that the Red Light District of Amsterdam is a place in which men from all over the world make mistakes.
The city is not all sex and drugs. I visited the Rujks Museum which encases many priceless Rembrants. It was a nice museum, much more low-key than El Prodo. I also went to the Anne Frank House. Being in the house in which she stayed, writing in her diary until ulimatly meeting her creul fate was extreamly renching. It made me aware of the inntolerance that exists in the world to this day.
My final thought on Amsterdam is that it is a good place to visit (there will be a Rose Ball in the city during my lifetime, I will make sure of it), but I would not like to live there. It is a little too crazy there. Maybe I am just a borish American. It felt less like another country than Spain, they have adopted more of American culture than Spain. It made me very homesick in a way.
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