Saturday, August 6, 2011

Amsterdam, the REAL city of sin.


It’s hard even to begin to describe Amsterdam. The easiest thing to say… everything you’ve heard about Amsterdam is true. There are “coffee shops” EVERYWHERE, hundreds of prostitutes barely dressed, if at all, and sex shops galore. Yet, at the same time, the city manages to be quite beautiful!

I won’t say it’s the prettiest city I’ve seen by any means… and it’s certainly one of the more expensive (especially for food), but it’s really a nice spot. After I landed in Amsterdam and took the train into the city (not too long… 20 minutes, 4 Euros), I managed to catch a tram (which are useless if you ask me… have a metro or a bus system instead…) and find my hotel booked with my two American friends from Trier.

There’s not much, really, to say about Amsterdam. Let’s just say that I enjoyed Amsterdam, and won’t go into much detail. We did have a blast, though, exploring the city, going on a free walking tour, and taking pictures. Our 4 roommates from Northern Ireland were awesome too; we went on a pub crawl with them one night, and let’s just say… it was a blast.

We got lucky enough to catch Amsterdam at the beginning of Gay Pride Week, and as such the city was PACKED, especially with gay couples coming in by the trainload. Our last night, we got to watch the Drag Queen Olympics… a highly entertaining event, I must say. Everyone in the city was dressed in full pride garb, and were all having a good time. I don’t think that’s different than normal for Amsterdam, though.

I seriously don’t know how you could grow up in Amsterdam and make anything out of your life; it’s a city with the least morally-guided policies I’ve ever been, far outpacing Las Vegas in mentality. I certainly see no problem with its party/drug/mellow culture, but still… it’s a place that would appall your grandmother most likely.

The city itself is quite surprising in that it’s center is laced with canals just like in Venice. These, though are far more planned; even the map looks as though the city was well-thought out in both road planning and canal structure. This being said, I was lost the entire time I was in the city. Something in my mind just couldn’t grasp the logically laid-out city. Perhaps it’s due to my having been in Italy for so long and used to random streets and places.

Oh, and another thing: beware of bikers. They’re EVERYWHERE. I’ve never seen so many in my life, and they don’t have to obey regular traffic laws apparently. The entire time I was in the city, I had to be on guard from bikes ringing their bells impatiently to get through the multitudes of people. This, along with the above ground trams and endless vehicles, makes Amsterdam one of the least pedestrian friendly cities I’ve visited.

It was great to get to hang out with my good friends from Trier one last time, and otherwise Amsterdam was a great end to a whirlwind of traveling. Well, not quite: I’m sitting in the Amsterdam airport (huge, I may add) waiting on a flight to Dublin as I type! That’ll be my last stop… I hope to see the Guinness Factory while there briefly, and hopefully can do a TRUE pub crawl, Irish style, with another friend from Trier to end my travels in Europe. I’m even listening to Putumayo Irish music to get into the mood!

I’ve already gone through 2/3 of the pictures I’ve taken since Florence… all 1200 of them… and now only have those from Amsterdam left. My eyes are starting to cross…

It’s truly hard to believe I’ll be home in 4 days… and Stateside in 2! Wow… this time has truly flown. How is it August already?

Right oh, old chap. Jolly good.


England! I got immensely lucky; the weather was quite decent the whole time I was in England! Let me see how accurately I can get this chronology.

Surprise, RyanAir delayed my flight well over an hour in Rome, allowing me to sharpen up my Solitaire skills with a real deck of cards. I actually won several games. 

When I finally landed in England somewhere around 2:30am, I was greeted by England’s ever-so-jolly passport control. Just like the last time I flew to England, the agent took her job way too seriously. This time, though, I almost got denied entry to the UK. How cute. I was asked pretty much every question regarding my entry to the UK short of what kind of butter I preferred, and was already quite tired and cranky from RyanAir delaying my flight far past its due time, as well as weary of the idea of having to spend the next few hours in the Stansted airport.

The agent, a right plump old maid if I ever saw one, then started getting on my nerves. She asked what my travel itinerary was, and when I told her a friend would pick me up in Reading the next afternoon, she said “So what if your friend doesn’t come?” Stupid question, so I answered “…then I’ll be SOL, I guess.” She didn’t like that. My b. She then proceeded to ask me every possible question including proof of my next flights, my money available, and various useless parts of my trip. Finally, after a disgruntled look bleeding with distaste for Americans, she stamped my passport and threw it at me. Adorable. When’s the last time YOU almost got denied entry to an allied country?

Anyway, I spent the lovely remaining few hours before the 6am train I was to catch on the floor in Stansted’s airport. Who knew… they even had a shower by the bathrooms for free! I didn’t use it, but still… nice touch. It didn’t hurt matters that a Costa coffee shop, a Starbucks rival, was right next to where I slept, so I got at least a good healthy jolt around 5:30am when I woke back up.

As always, England’s trains were quite lovely. After buying a rail discount card at London Liverpool Street Station (one of the main rail stations in London), something allowing me to buy 1/3 off rail tickets for a year after paying 28 Pounds, I headed for Turville!

Turville, as I’ve noted before, is home to the windmill from Chitty Chitty Bang Bang and the church from the British comedy The Vicar of Dibley. Wow, was it worth the trip! The train took me to  a station within a 20 minute cab ride from Turville, and by 9am I was in the fairyland village of Turville!

The fact that I spent roughly the same price to fly from Rome to London as I did the cab rides to and from Turville means nothing to me; it was well worth the ridiculous cab prices. The village truly is in the middle of NOWHERE. I walked about 2 kilometers to another church nearby (each village typically has a parish church), took pictures, explored the GORGEOUS rolling hill countryside, took pictures, climbed up to the windmill, took pictures, explored the church from the television series, took pictures, and had lunch at a wonderful pub—the only one in the tiny village and one that wins awards all the time apparently. By 2pm, I really was done… this whole village area can’t possibly house more than 300 people, and that’s overestimating. 

The windmill is a private property, but it looks down upon the tiny village of Turville (Dibley) and is viewable almost anywhere around the village. The walk up to it almost killed me; it’s steep, steep, steep! I also took my time due to really having nothing pressing to do, as well as the fact that I didn’t bring crackers or something to snack on along the way. It never occurred to me there would be a town in Europe too small even for a small convenience store or something. I was mistaken.

The church, too, was quite neat; not only is it the primary scene from the hilarious British comedy, but it’s also OLD! It was built somewhere around 1200, and it was quite nifty to see a tiny church so old. I’m used to seeing huge churches that are as old as dirt, but this was a new experience. It’s a beautiful and quaint little church, and because I was so early to Turville on a Sunday morning there were few people around the village.
By the time the pub, The Bull and Butcher, opened, the village became crowded with training bikers (the hills around Turville are excellent training grounds) and other local tourists wanting to check out the quaint little village. Within an hour of the noon opening of the pub, it was full. Quite tasty, too! I had a traditional Sunday roast dinner, something similar to a pork roast stew you’d put in the crock pot.

I must say, Turville is probably the most “authentic” place I’ve been, even more so than Verona was. The place was so small that I had no cell phone reception, and the town’s only payphone (classic red booth as throughout England) had even been removed. I had to pay to use the pub’s, and off I was with my Indian man to the town of Henley on the Thames River.

Henley is one of those random little towns full of its own spunk; the time I arrived, around 3pm, was perfect timing to coincide with afternoon tea and a little street market was in full swing. It’s a cute little town with many coming to put-put around on the river (not huge… far smaller than in London) and kill a lazy Sunday afternoon in the park. I didn’t stay long, but it was worth the tour around the little town before heading to my destination, Reading.

Reading is also a nice little town! It’s far bigger than Henley and Turville combined (I wouldn’t even consider Turville much more than a crossroads anyway), complete with a large university and all kinds of shopping. It’s not somewhere I would like to live, but it was also worth the visit. I spent the night with my friends from Trier, hitting several of the local pubs, and had a jolly good night with a bottle of the Sailor.

By 11am the next morning, I was in London! Of all the “big” cities I’ve visited, London is certainly my favorite… even more so than Rome! Rome is really neat with its history, but London is just… alive, filled with excitement. I thought of it as New York City on a nicer and smaller scale. After dropping off my bag at the hostel I stayed in (which, incidentally, I had accidently booked for an extra night and had to pay for it even though I was in Reading), I set off to explore.

Again, the weather was perfect. I got an excellent biased view of the city due to this; had it rained and been cold like I hear is typical of London, I likely would not have had such a good experience. As it was, though, I got to see pretty much everything famous about London in the two full days I was there; the Houses of Parliament (immensely impressive), Westminster Abbey, Buckingham Palace, the Eye of London, London 
Tower, the National Gallery, Piccadilly Square… you name it, I saw it.

The tube system in London is neat, too, and in preparation for the upcoming 2012 Olympics, the city is undergoing huge improvement projects. Parks, the Tube, and everything in between were under construction throughout the city. The Tube, though, is expensive… while it’s about 6.50 Pounds for a day pass, it’s roughly 4 Pounds for a one way trip! So, be careful: it can add up. If you’re going to stay more than a day or so, it’s worth getting a reloadable “Oyster Card” that makes individual trips far cheaper.

While in London, I also got to see two West End shows. London’s West End is the equivalent of New York’s Broadway, and it was well worth the money to attend both shows. I got tickets in Leicester Square, home of the city’s [apparently] famous half-price ticket booth. Yes Prime Minister, the first show I saw, was only about 20 Pounds here, and (wait for it) Mamma Mia was about 35. Both were TOTALLY worth it. I bet I’m the only American to have ever heard of “Yes Minister,” a British comedy from the late 80’s/early 90’s, and the Broadway (West End) show was typical British humor. Funny enough, the Apollo Theater, its home for the ten week run, had quite small seats. The couple next to me remarked, “Wow, what do you think the Americans would do in here? They’d be too fat to fit!” HAHA

Mamma Mia, though, took the cake. Naturally, I’m a bit biased having grown up to my mother listening to Abba, but the show was great. Full of energy, good actors/singers, and even some scenes that aren’t in the film version of the play. Again, perhaps the highlight of my trip to London. The fact that both shows were located around China Town (called Soho) and Piccadilly Square made for cool exits into London’s night life each night too. Keep in mind there, though, that the typical London bar closing time is 2-3am, far earlier than most other parts of Europe.

The second day I went on one of the free walking tours and ended up meeting several cool people, notably a German and an Australian. The three of us all ended up hanging out for the rest of the day, exploring the city further and chilling in several spots as well. The free walking tours are wonderful for their city overview and the ability to meet new people.

London is quite an expensive city, especially considering the Pound is currently even stronger against the Dollar than the Euro is. But, for brief visits, I’d say it’s totally worth a bank account depression. Like most other big cities in Europe, you couldn’t do everything it has to offer in under a year. There’s not really much else to say about London; it’s an awesome city, and I wish I could go there for the Olympics! 

But, I had to catch my early plane to Amsterdam, so I dragged myself to the train towards Gatwick airport around 5am the final morning, August 3rd, and got to fly with British Airways… a REAL airline for a change! How nice. No one bothered me, I got included light breakfast and a tea… life was grand.

Then… Amsterdam!