Amsterdam-a-ding-dong

More!

That night, we headed off to the center of the city for a walk in the red light district. How strange. It was like some kind of Disney for prostitutes. They were all standing in little glass doorways lit up with red on these narrow little alleys, but instead of a seedy clientele wandering around, there were normal tourists. Middle-aged couples strolling arm in arm. Chinese businessmen lined up for the sex shows. Families (!) laughing and gaping at the open windows. It was so weird - it was a bunch of prostitutes, but it was all de-fanged. Some were posing their hardest, but others talked on their mobiles or just looked bored. I wonder if they have enough customers for all those prostitutes - we only saw spectators like us.

Then off to the center of town, where they had a carnival with skeeball! Madness...turns out that Malinda and I both love it, so we played long enough to get sex-themed playing cards for Malinda's housemates. Male AND female, just to be balanced.

The next morning was Sunday, so it was really nice and quiet. After sleeping in, we found a great cafe on the canal, where we got some coffee. And then we did what every proper Amsterdam(er?)(ian?) should - we rented bikes! The place is full of cyclists, from people riding side by side and holding hands, mothers with giant kid-boxes on the front of their bikes, and girls riding sidesaddle on the back of their date's bike. The place is so ridiculously quaint it hurts. Bikes made us feel like such locals, and it was great to sail around the city.

We stopped for lunch and had some fab brie and goat's cheese sandwiches. Next to us at the cafe were old and loud American tourists from (where else?) New Jersey. They seemed to like Malinda, but I distanced myself as much from them as possible. They were loud and annoying. Eek, Americans abroad. I get to be such a self-hating American when I travel. I try to blend in as much as possible because the American accent sounds so grating. Oh, well.

We hopped back on our bikes and went to a pancake place up a steep flight of stairs. (Let me just say that Let's Go was my savior on this trip. Nothing it recommended was bad. Good for you, Let's Go. You've officially made up for Spain.) We had the best pancakes ever (more like a crepe - mine had chocolate and coconut) and made friends with the chef, who gave us his philiosphy on life (and a very Amsterdam-like one), which apparently roughly translates as "Don't worry about other people's books" (ok, really roughly), and means that you shouldn't worry about what other people are doing. Mind your own business, basically. That's probably what makes Amsterdam such a tolerant and laid-back city (well, that and all the pot). No one looks at you funny, no one judges. I love this place.

= :)