Our flight was scheduled to leave at 7 AM and we had to take the train to the airport at 3:30 AM. I knew it would be fruitless to even attempt to sleep and decided instead to just stay up drinking with Sean. Everyone seemed really excited for the trip and we did not really hit any hiccups until we got to out flight gate and discovered that the plane was going to be late because the pilot had not arrived yet. After a near two-hour delay we finally took off but the wind had definitely been taken out of our sails and the early morning arrival started to take its toll.
When we landed it started to hit me that we were in Amsterdam and I became quite excited, not only for how much fun the next 72 hours would be but also at the prospect of being in a completely foreign country for the first time. Although we had taken a few trips before, this was the first time that we were without a chaperone and in a country that speaks a foreign language. Some of this excitement may have been fear as I was a little wary of how easily we could find our hostel, which was a few miles from the Amsterdam Central Station but thankfully we arrived there and were settled in by 1 PM.
The Netherlands-Brazil World Cup Quarterfinal match was scheduled to start at 4:30, so most of us immediately set off into the heart of Amsterdam to explore. The first thing I noticed about the city is how much they love their bikes. They are everywhere. I had heard that the Dutch liked bikes but I was not expecting this. On more than a few occasions, a group member was nearly run down after inadvertently walking in a bike path instead of the sidewalk. The second, obvious, thing that I notice is just how much water there is and how intricate the canal system. I had been to Venice before but this was different because Amsterdam is a much larger city and was very well designed for its unique location, whereas Venice seemed haphazardly thrown together.
We got our bearings and were able to make it into the center of the city (Centrum), where we had some coffee and met up with other members of our group. We kept exploring the city while we looked for a good place to watch the game and I was enamored with the city’s unique architecture and jovial atmosphere. Orange shirts were everywhere and the excitement for the upcoming match was far greater than anything I had seen in England, and seemed to far less alcohol induced. Even as a Brazilian drum band threw down the gauntlet in the middle of a city square, spirits could not be dampened and there wasn’t a hit of a scowl on any of the Dutch faces. With about an hour before kickoff, we decided to have some more coffee while we waited. It was at this point that not sleeping for 36 hours and not eating in 24 began to catch up with me. Despite the mild temperature, I spiked a wicked fever and sweat began pouring from my body. Drenched in sweat, I looked around and most of the guys did not look a whole lot better than I did but knew we had to watch the game outside and we headed back into the city.
We found an bar with outdoor seating and televisions and sat down ready to watch the game and enjoy the, hopeful, victory to its fullest. It quickly became apparent to us, and the other bar patrons, that we were in no state to sit through a 90-minute match and the ensuing festivities and made our first wise call of the day and went home to take a nap at halftime. I was thankfully able to stay awake long enough to see the Dutch victory but immediately passed out afterwards, missing the wild celebration that followed the game.
I awoke a few hours later, angry with myself for not sleeping earlier in the day and thus missing the post-match celebration. I channeled that anger into a renewed vigor as we made our way out into Centrum to enjoy that family friendly Amsterdam nightlife you hear so much about. We made our way towards the rest of the group and walked through the Red Light District. I knew what to expect but still it really is a very bizarre scene. The major qualm I had with Amsterdam is that it seemed overly touristy and the Red Light District is just a perverted tourist attraction. Still seeing the people who were there just to walk through alongside people who there for a little something extra was a funny sight to behold. At a few different bars in the RLD, we had some beers and some more coffee. Stories from the day were told and laughs were had but we decided not to go to wild, lest we make the same mistake again, and called it a relatively early night. We went home and got some shut-eye, ready to exploit Amsterdam to its fullest cultural and social potential the following day.
No comments:
Post a Comment