After arriving ridiculously early from Bruges, on the
overnight bus, at the airport, I slept in the airport from 3am till just before
sunrise, propped up on my bags on the uncomfortable plastic seats with security
prowling around the still busy airport. When I hopped on the public transport
into Amsterdam centre. I stumbled out into the world freezing and bleary eyed,
taking in the sights of another, gorgeous and very different, canal city.
Walking through the city (definitely not a town) in the vague
direction of my hostel, I was feeling the edge of this city keenly, by the sort
of shops clustered in the centre that I had to pass. I wasn`t in Kansas (read: Bruges)
anymore. Though beautiful, there was a strong undercurrent in this city of
something grimier and dangerous, which I found evidenced through the prolifany
of premade fast food shops, pot shops, aggressively sexualised tourist tat, and
stumbling drunks at 6am.
Feeling both excited at the new city, and also mildly
terrified by what my exhausted mind had just taken in, I sought refuge in a
Maccas. In which I proceeded to order every item no on the Australian menu,
which I think was only one item from the breakfast selection.
Once the time came that I deemed more reasonable to check
into my hostel, I arrived and was informed I needed to wait two more hours. So I
collapsed into the hostel bar and ate a jacket potato I definitely didn`t need,
and a beer I most decidedly did. As soon as humanly (hostel policy-ly)
possible, I checked into my 6 bunk room, showered, and slept a few hours. I
then shambled out to a red light district pub crawl, blowing apparently
scandalous kisses to the women in windows.
The finer details of the night are a blur, but I did
befriend a small group of English travellers (impossible to escape the English
while travelling).
The following morning I woke up with wool in my mouth, my
eyes, my ears, my hands, my skin, my shoes….ok so that is a slight
exaggeration. I actually woke up mostly fine and ready to go.
First order of the day after breakfast at the hostel, was to sort out my phone`s charging situation, as it hadn`t been holding charge too well. A quick trip to Primark fixed that, and I was off again.
I had heard about a floating cat sanctuary, De Poezenboot, and had determined that that would be the most important thing for me to see in Amsterdam, so set off to the little canal boats shacked up with cats. It was bliss. The cats were not overly social, but were very calm and chill.
Meant to check out the Anne Frank museum, but I messed up my
timed ticket; at least now I have a very solid reason to return to Amsterdam. Instead, I went to an amazing dinner in a floating Chinese
restaurant with my two new English friends. One of whom has since published a
historical book on Walley!
The boys then had a flight to make back to old Blighty, and
we parted ways at the airport, with me waiting a few hours longer for a bus on
the Germany.
After waiting about 5 hours till 1:00AM, I confidently
strode up to the bus and attempted to check in. With no success. It turned out
that my worst nightmare had happened. I had booked the bus for the previous
days` 1:00AM, not today`s 1:00AM. Thankfully I had one more prepaid voucher
(5 trips for £100) and was able to check into the last available seat on the bus
using that, rather than paying £80.
All dramas aside, I snoozed my way
into Germany.
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