Bad day in Amsterdam/Good day in Rotterdam

Travel lets you experience the joys of a new city, new energy and a sense of discovery along with so many other people of different races, creeds and nationalities.  I wake up every day feeling incredibly lucky to have the time, money, and freedom to spend on travel.

And then some days, I just wish I had an electric cattle prod.

AmsterDAM!  Friday was a bad day.

I got a late start – not a bad thing on its own.  I was catching up on some writing.  I sped that up because it was getting increasingly noisy in the hotel and I hadn’t had anything to eat yet.  I figured I’d do my laundry first before my next flight on Sunday.  I had asked the desk clerk about onsite laundry on my first day at the Moxy.  He said, as long as I bought the detergent, he’d let me use the machine on site.  On that crisp Friday morning, I attempted to do just that, laundry and soap in hand, only to be told by a different guy that only guests who were staying for two weeks were allowed to do their laundry on site.  Otherwise, I’d have to schlep my dirty drawers all the way into Amsterdam, by shuttle and train, to get them clean.  Pass.  I’ll just have to wait until my next destination (or see if that other clerk shows up on Saturday).

I thought to do something different and head into Rotterdam for the day. I took the train to the city, got out at the station only to realize that my 3-day pass does not cover trips to Rotterdam.  I could not get out of the station.  There were no ticket booths inside – you have to purchase them before you enter.  My only other choice was to head back to Schiphol or Amsterdam Centraal.  Moral of this story, kids; pay attention to the map they give tourists when you purchase a short-term pass.  It covers a lot of territory in The Netherlands, but not everywhere.  Rotterdam and some of the outlying cities, while not that far from the airport, have to be purchased on a separate ticket.

I got on the train back to the airport only to get about 5 minutes into the journey when a guy comes to check my ticket.  Huh?  No one ever checked before.  Sigh.  I explain to him about the Rotterdam mistake and how, since I couldn’t get out of the terminal, I was heading back to Amsterdam.  He said that was fine, but I was also sitting in the First-Class area (red seats).  I’d have to move to the next car and the blue seats.  Admittedly, that encounter went a lot better than I thought it would.  He wasn’t rude or anything, didn’t charge me for my mistake even though I was prepared to pay.  Instead, I went to the cheap seats as asked – and immediately regretted it.  I understand why someone would pay for the First-Class seats.  That car was empty except for me, which made it gloriously quiet.  As soon as I sat down in the cheap seat, the train made a stop and the rowdiest bunch of Irish guys sat right behind me.  They were talking so much and laughing so loud, it physically hurt to be around them.  I gritted my teeth.  It was only one more stop to Amsterdam Centraal.

Then, of course, I got off the train to be surrounded by oh-so-many more people.  Just what I needed to make my day complete.  I had to take a minute by the canal to calm myself before moving any further.

When I tell you that Amsterdam is stupid with tourists, I mean it.  They’re stopping in the middle of a walkway to take pictures, they’re running into you because they’re too busy staring at their phones, they’re using their kid-filled strollers as battering rams to get through a crowd.  It’s already difficult to maneuver around the bikes, the cars, the trams – everything is made so much worse when you have to dodge and weave so many pedestrians.  And as I was already in a piss-poor mood, this is where the cattle prod comes to mind.

Thank you so much, ma’am for blowing smoke directly in my face.  ZAP!

I’m already risking my life by stepping into the bike lane to avoid you, and you’re backing up?  Are you trying to get me killed?  Well, I’m definitely zapping you!

You haven’t even done anything to me, but you probably would if given a chance.  ZAP!

Before I started slapping everyone in my way, I wandered out of the more touristy areas and to some peace and quiet.  After a while, I realized that I was going around in circles trying to find my way back to the train station.  I finally resorted to using the phone to get back.  By the time I saw the station, I was tired and famished.

I found my way to a nice sit-down place called Cau.  I had a very good (if very pricey meal) that included a couple of drinks (that I really needed) and a piece of Amsterdam’s Dutch Apple Pie (tasty).  Then it was a mad dash to the train station.  I was more than done with this day.

Made it through the train ride and stood outside Schiphol to wait for the hotel shuttle.  And wait.  And wait. I watched the other hotel shuttles return two, sometimes three times and still no Moxy shuttle.  I never before had to wait so long for it.

I dashed inside to go to the bathroom before I started doing the pee-pee dance.  Ended up breaking a couple of nails as I always tend to do when I’m stressed and in a hurry.  Ran back out … and still no shuttle.  I knew this because the large group of people in the waiting area had only gotten bigger while I’d been inside.

I ended up waiting outside Schiphol for almost an hour.  I was just about to get a cab when the shuttle finally showed up.

Friday was a bad day.  That’s all I’m trying to say.

Saturday.  A bright new day and I have a plan.  Buy an actual ticket to Rotterdam (30 euros – the same price as the three-day ticket to Amsterdam and its surrounds) and take the 20-minute train there.  I got out at the station and – the ticket lets me pass.  I was able to leave the station!  Yay!

Something of note about this train station.  One side of it lets out onto a nice path by a pond.  The other side lets out directly to the commercial side of town (pictured above).  Unless you know about this beforehand, there is no way you’d ever guess that.  The train station at Amsterdam Centraal is the same.  The front of the building is this grand, red brick façade that leads to the heart of the city.  The other side has a more modern design and leads to a wide canal.  The facades don’t even look like they’re part of the same building and yet they are.  Funky architecture is a Dutch staple.

Rotterdam is no exception to this rule.  One of its biggest tourist attractions is the cube houses.  This complex is situated near a train station and is touted as the design of the future.  Yeah.  I don’t know about that.  For a small fee, you can tour one of the houses with its sloped ceilings and narrow stairs.  Being tall, as most of the Dutch are, I had to do a lot of ducking to make sure I didn’t bump my head.  And the ‘neighborhood’ is a literal tourist trap.  There’s are multiple souvenir shops in the courtyard to cater to the scores of people prowling around.  Some residents had to put signs in front of their staircases to make sure the tourists don’t bother them.  I enjoyed my visit, but I really don’t see the appeal of living in one of these places.

Sidenote:  screw Dutch stairs.  Having to go to the bathroom a lot, I’ve become very familiar with the dark, narrow, sometimes windy staircases that lead to the bowels of some Dutch restaurant.  They may be space saving and efficient, but they are also scary.  I usually went down them sideways, clutching the rail because I really don’t want to find out how good Dutch medicine is.  Those stairs are awful. 

I wandered around to a street market.  I’m curious now.  Is this an everyday thing, all these festivals and markets just popping up everywhere?  If so, The Netherlands is more of a party country than I realized.  There is always something going on to catch your interest, even if you’re not into drugs and hookers.  The market sold pretty much anything you can think of from clothes to household items, meats and cheeses, as well as hot foods from snacks to full meals. 

I walked the stalls for a while then headed to this insanely designed building.  The Markthal is full of cafes and restaurants along with a few retail stores.  That was interesting enough, but then I exited the place and realized that there are apartments all around the sides of the building.  That is insane to me.  But again, efficient.

I finally broke down and got some fries from inside the Markthal and took my treat to the nearby park to eat it.  Fries are considered more a meal here than a snack and the Dutch prefer to eat them with garlic aioli rather than ketchup.  The sauce on these is more a mild cheesy mayo called fritesauce.  They were delicious but fair warning; don’t immediately dig in.  The things are fresh out of the fryer and you will burn your mouth.

And while I’m on subject of food, a few notes.  I went into a cheese shop and was automatically offered some free cheese.  It was good, but I couldn’t purchase anything since I was leaving soon, on an airplane, and didn’t have a fridge in the hotel.  It’s a shame because the variety of cheeses they produce in The Netherlands is insane and I’d love to try them all.  If you go to Amsterdam, make sure you at least enter a cheese shop.  They’ll give you free cheese and who doesn’t love free cheese?

This is a stroopwafel, a mini one I got with my breakfast cappuccino one day.  They are made up of two crispy wafers with syrup between them.  They sell the larger size in the grocery stores, but you can also buy them at stands around town.  They’re not bad.

Unlike my return trip to Schiphol on Friday, this trip from Rotterdam went off without a hitch.  I spent the rest of the night getting ready for my flight on Sunday.  And that temper tantrum I thought I’d have upon leaving Amsterdam?  Nah.  I’m good.  It’s not that I didn’t enjoy the city and would happily return.  I was just ready to move on, very glad that I wasn't returning to the states.

Unfortunately, I took with me a souvenir that I really didn’t want.  On my last full day in the city, I woke up with a scratchy throat.  It developed into a mild cough that had me scrambling to find some cough drops on the way to my plane in Schiphol.  You know what’s hard to read?  Cough medicine labels in Dutch.  I found something I thought sounded good and asked the cashier about it.  Turns out I was right. So, me and my Dutch cough drops boarded the plane to my next destination. 

(I feel like there is so much more to say about Amsterdam, but three posts are already a lot.  As I write this, it's 3 weeks later and I have moved on to 3 other locales in that time.  Let me just say that Amsterdam is awesome and everyone should visit.  Become one of the stinking hordes of tourists, have some cheese, and try not to pee in the canals.  The Dutch really don't like that.)