Heading Overseas

George and I got home yesterday from spending two nights in Amsterdam. It’s a beautiful, historic city, but it’s a shame that it’s so overrun with pot heads, hippies, and the associated crime that comes from such a ridiculously liberal attitude towards drugs and prostitution.

We left around 10:00 on Thanksgiving morning for the nearly-five-hour drive to Amsterdam. We stopped at our local backerei first (of course), then hit the road with a good mix of music on the iPod. George still hasn’t gotten his international driving permit, so he started the drive, then I took over when we neared the border. It rained off and on on the drive, and we actually saw rainbows twice. Neither of us could remember the last time we’d actually seen one, so that was a cool way to start the trip. We stopped at an autobahn reststop and got lunch, even though we’d been warned about the iffy cleanliness of those places. It had a Burger King in it, so we figured we’d be safe enough with a more or less known quantity. We switched drivers there, too, since we were approaching the Nederland border.

All in all, the drive up there wasn’t actually too bad at all…until we actually got into Amsterdam. I don’t advise trying to drive in Amsterdam, at least not in the City Center itself. If you’ve never been there, the Dutch love their bicycles. They have bicycle traffic lanes along all the roads. In addition, there is a ridiculous amount of pedestrian traffic…and auto traffic…Oh, and did I mention the trams (streetcars) that drive along the same streets as all the rest of this traffic?? Add to that the fact that Simone (our GPS system) sometimes gives verbal directions that conflict with the map image she’s showing us? The result of all of this is that I turned where I should have gone straight, so she tried to reroute us, but down a pedestrian only street (which we didn’t take, no worries). But then we just kept circling, with all that traffic, and bikes whizzing around everywhere, and we got lost. I was so stressed out my hands were shaking, so George took over and I tried to navigate us back on track. We did finally get there, as it was getting dark and raining again, compounding all the other problems and decreasing our visibility of the bikes and foot traffic who all ignore the cars and seem to appear out of nowhere in every conceivable blind spot your car has.

But we made it to the hotel, or rather, across the street from it. I told George to pull over in a temporary drop-off zone while I phoned the hotel’s reservation desk to see where we could park. I had thought they had their own parking, but they don’t. The woman on the other line directed us to the garage owned by the department store in front of which we were stopped, and kindly stayed on the line until we made it around the corner and found the garage, managing to avoid hitting any of the cyclists or pedestrians. We got the car parked, grabbed our bags, walked back out and across the street, and got checked into the hotel. My hands finally stopped shaking after that.

We got settled into our hotel (Swissôtel Amsterdam), which was a fairly decent place, in the heart of the City Center. After the harrowing drive to get there, we both needed a beer, so we ventured out to find some. We walked through a pedestrian shopping area and found an open square with an English language bookstore and several pubs. We went into one and ordered Grolsch, which is a Dutch beer. George noticed that another patron of the pub had something that looked like hefeweisen (wheat beer), so he ordered that next. The beer helped, but we still needed food, so we wandered on. We saw a tapas place across the street, but didn’t go in.

We found an Irish pub (as it turns out, Irish pubs abound in Amsterdam) and George had a Guiness and I had a Kilkenny. We shared an order of home fries (greasy, but tasted okay), but decided that we didn’t really want to try the overpriced food there. We went back to the hotel to ask for a recommendation for a restaurant, and they directed us to an area a few blocks away. We went into a place called Luden and sat in the three-course menu section instead of the brasserie section in the front. It was pricey (as everything in a tourist city tends to be), but it was really good food. I had a ribeye that was cooked to a perfect medium on a bed of roasted potatoes and steamed vegetables with an herbed butter on the side. So it is possible to get a good steak in Europe! George had lamb skewers on couscous with steamed vegetables which he said was good.

With our bellies full, it was time to head back to the hotel and take a bath to fully destress from the drive. But not before some stress on the walk back. The street was partially business, partially residential, so there wasn’t much pedestrian traffic that evening. George noticed a man with a cell phone to his ear, but he wasn’t talking, and he crossed quickly to our side of the street behind us. I, oblivious as usual, didn’t notice a thing until George pulled his arm from my hand and his pace quickened. Then I knew something had triggered his radar, so I didn’t question, just kept up with his pace until we turned a corner onto a much busier street. We kept walking for another block and a half, then George pulled me over to the side to let that guy pass us, which he did. Then George explained what had set off his radar. And that’s why I always feel safe with him around!

We got back to our room and had a bath together, although it wasn’t nearly as comfy as baths here at home. The hotel tub was quite narrow compared to our tub, and the faucet and drain were at the end instead of in the middle as they are in our tub, but it was still nice to unwind together and talk about the problems finding the place and how I would like to try a train trip next for comparison purposes. And then it was off to bed!

…to be continued in the next post, which will have pics, as well…