Hey gixxer,gixxer wrote:i think we could damage a few grams in t NES gapie
Hope I can join u guys one day. Thanks for the kind words!
tw
t. wong + Crash 2010 TR w/pix by bleak & quips by gapie
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titus wong
- Posts: 884
- Joined: Sat 11th Apr 2009 06:47 am
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pengaldinho
- Posts: 1588
- Joined: Sun 24th Apr 2005 02:09 pm
- Location: Londinium
- Contact:
which ice-o-lator was the Hindu Kush the e25 or e30?
http://www.youtube.com/user/HinduDeathCabbage" onclick="window.open(this.href);return false;
Thanks Crash, it was a real pleasure to meet you guys too! And it was so great that you all took the plunge to come over to Noord Amsterdam to see a different side of this town.Crash wrote:well now i should chime in here,
you all were all so nice, and smoke like TOO MUCH for me.
DC: thanks for your kindness and wittiness.
ohm: I am not worthy, imo you rock.
tutti: sorry I wasn't so talkative, I was just overcome with cannabis psychosis.
gawdammit: you were sooo quiet. next time i hope to talk with you more.
spidergawd: nice to meet you, hope to meet the MRS. next time.
marco: we needed to hang around longer, but it was a joy in the short time.
bleak: you are a kind soul, and talented artist.
gapie: thanks for showing Titus and I around, you and I have alot in common.
Midzy&mrs.: it was a definite pleasure to T&T with you, i hope your holiday was fun.
I KNOW IT WAS FOR ME.
To all of you there for those memorable smoke sessions,
I HOPE WE CAN DO THAT AGAIN
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titus wong
- Posts: 884
- Joined: Sat 11th Apr 2009 06:47 am
Hey buddy,pengaldinho wrote:which ice-o-lator was the Hindu Kush the e25 or e30?
It was the more expensive one, don't you know - e30/gram. Although it's listed as Bubble Hash, I never requested it by that name. Instead, I asked for the "Hindu Kush ice" and the budtender knew exactly what I meant. Sweet tasting and quite potent. It was so good, I had to go back for seconds, so well worth it in my book.
Have a great time on ur trip!
Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.
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titus wong
- Posts: 884
- Joined: Sat 11th Apr 2009 06:47 am
Hey Marco,Marco wrote:Whew, just read all this, best trip report on ACD. Glad you guys had fun and I will agree YOU ALL SMOKE LIKE CHIMNEYS!!!!
Peace, love and all that my man.
It was a real pleasure meeting u. Like Crash, I wish we had more time 2 talk as I'm sure there's a great variety of subjects on which I'd be interested in learning ur opinion. Hopefully, we can do it again sometime, in ur neck of the woods or mine.
Thx 4 the shoutout!Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.
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titus wong
- Posts: 884
- Joined: Sat 11th Apr 2009 06:47 am
-
titus wong
- Posts: 884
- Joined: Sat 11th Apr 2009 06:47 am
On Saturday, I woke up sometime around eight, and saw gapie curled up on the kitchen floor by the refrigerator, where no doubt it was a bit warmer. The temperature had dropped during the night and we had left the windows open, so the apartment was feeling a bit brisk. Poor guy had gotten only two hours of sleep all night. After completing an abbreviated morning toilet, we ambled over to 1eHulp for our morning wake and bake, where a different budtender was on duty. Breakfast consisted of cheese tostis and koffie verkeerds followed by some Super Lemon Haze. For entertainment, we watched the budtender throw out a tourist who was sprawled across one of the couches and apparently, tweaking on something other than cannabis. He was given a textbook booting, complete with a nape and belt cinch, followed by a heave across the threshold.
gapie wanted to go home afterwards (no doubt for some extra sleep) and asked us to meet him after 16:00 at the Grey Area where he would be rolling joints. We said our goodbyes, and Crash and I strolled over to the Prinsengracht and made our way to the Noordermarkt where the weekly farmers' market was taking place. The weather was holding up that day though we rarely got to see any sunshine. On the way over, we passed by Winkel 43, which I had been meaning to try for their apple pie. Crash secured a spot at one of the large communal tables facing the plaza while I went inside to pick up pie and coffee. A sign on the counter stated that they would be serving a limited menu that day due to the overwhelming demand for appeltart, which boded well. While they were filling my order, I was tickled to see them squirt mounds of whipped cream from a stainless steel fixture installed in the counter much like a draught beer tap. Really wanted a hit off that thing.
The pie lived up to its billing and then some. Despite being laden with chunks of apples and currants, it had a remarkably smooth and silken texture accentuated by the harmonious blending of cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice. Crash, who was a baker in a former life, remarked that it was the best he ever had.
Next, we strolled over to the actual market. When we were there last year, one vendor had set up a tent hung with a few fresh hams along with a huge pot of bubbling pea soup, and it was my hope to encounter him again at lunchtime. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found, but there was still the same fantastic variety of artisanal breads, cheeses, and fruit for us to choose from. We acquired a small chevre encrusted with fresh rosemary for €3,50, and Crash hand-picked a couple of croissants and a loaf of sourdough. We weren't quite hungry yet and the morning wake-and-bake was wearing off, so we wandered over to Barney's.
At Barneys*, I was horrified at the new re-design. They took out all the tables and chairs; and replaced them with rows of narrow counters and skinny barstools in a thinly-veiled attempt to maximize seating and minimize comfort. What's next, cattle pens where customers huff vapor through a single showerhead extruding multiple whips? I could hear the marketing session in my head: "Let's pack them like sardines, sell them our marked up weed and a few over-priced drinks apiece, and just to make sure they don't stay long, we'll make the seats really uncomfortable. If they complain, send them over to the Farm or Uptown where they can buy the same over-priced drinks." The crew manning the coffeeshop were obviously well-trained and totally in-sync; they effortlessly rotated positions between budtender, bartender, and doorman while I was there. They were ruthlessly efficient at checking ids and at least two parties were turned away for lacking sufficient proof of age. On the other hand, I was surprised that they brought our coffees to our table though they were not very busy at the time. As for the weed, the dealer patiently opened up at least six or seven different tubs for me to sniff. My choice ended up being the Blue Crimea which had a lovely aroma that vanished on the inhale. Crash and I got baked nevertheless and left Barney's as we were ready for some nosh.
For a dining destination, I was inspired by cantona7's description of his favorite canal bench, which, if I have correctly interpreted his description, lies two short blocks south of coffeeshop Popeye at the intersection of the Brouwersgracht and the Herengracht. As we unwrapped our picnic lunch, a group of diners settled into a private table owned by the posh restaurant de Belhamel next to us. The fact that I was enjoying the same view as they and paying just a scant fraction of the cost of their meal, made my simple bread and cheese taste all the better. Afterwards, Crash wanted to go back to Cafe Winkel for more apple pie, but I demurred, a decision which I regret now.
The view from cantona7's fave canal bench (I think)
We decided to hit Dampkring afterwards to replenish our dwindling stocks. On the first day we arrived, I had tried to take a picture of the menu only to discover that they had installed computer monitors displaying the same into the dealer's counter. As the counter came up to my solar plexus, all my pix came out looking something like this. Fortunately, there was a friendly redheaded Dutch budtender on duty that day, 6'5" if not taller, who gladly obliged me by leaning over and snapping this pic:
Although, it doesn't appear legible at first glance, you can actually see the text quite clearly if you zoom in.**
This time, we picked up a gram of the King Hassan and a half-gram of the Cheese Skunk. We took them back by the drinks counter where we ordered two belgian hot chocolates, and proceeded to bong the cheese skunk. The weed did not particularly stand out but the King Hassan tasted like a fine Moroccan hash it was, except that it cost only €7,50 per gram.
Next, we dropped into Homegrown Fantasy where Crash picked up some more Shiva which was not nearly as fragrant as the sample we had from de Graal. We made a quick stop at Anyday afterwards, to pick up another gram of the Durban Poison hash as well as some more Honeydew, before heading south to Grey Area where gapie was waiting. On the way, I decided on an impulse to get more Hindu Kush ice-o-lator from Club Media, as we were running low, and I wanted to stockpile some for the evening's festivities, and for later on. I pointed Crash in the direction of Grey Area and caught a no. 16 tram bound for the Albert Cuypmarkt where I made a beeline for Media and pocketed a gram of their HK ice. Since I was making excellent time, I dashed over to Papillon for another 2g of their tasty Blue Cheese. Much to my pleasant surprise, the dealer gave me a 10% discount for the measly two gram buy; I had never heard of any coffeeshop rewarding customers for such a small purchase until then. I left doubly impressed by Papillon, by both the quality and low cost of their merchandise, as well as for the tastefully subdued decor and plush seating of their interior. In my mind, it compares favorably to coffeeshop Amnesia; both shops strive to be stylish and comfortable -- Papillon just happens to be much cheaper.
By this point, I was desperate for a shower after all this running around, so I hightailed it back to the apartment via tram, stood briefly under the running water, changed, and walked over to the Grey Area. As usual, it was packed. Jon was presiding at the bud counter that day, but he was engrossed in conversation with a regular, so I just said hello and picked up a gram of Greyberry. Crash and gapie were sitting perpendicular at the far end of the counter where small heaps of pre-rolleds lay before them. They were already nicely high and I spent the better part of an hour trying to catch up. Before long, we realized that daylight was fading so we arranged to meet up with Marco at the NDSM Wharf, but not before stopping by Albert Heijn for a few Dommelsch beers.
As we visited during the SailAmsterdam 2010 regatta, we were able to glimpse some of the unique vessels which were crowding the harbor at the time, including a russian submarine that we passed within several meters. As promised, Marco was awaiting us at the ferry landing. One of the first things he did was to thank gapie profusely for the prior day's gift of weed and to assure him that he had smoked every last bit. Marco then led us to the outdoor area where bleak was performing, which I was surprised to see was a largely undeveloped park. There were only two or three low buildings that seemed more like temporary structures than permanent edifices, a makeshift barbeque patio, and a couple of porta-johns set up to accomodate the milling attendees. The rolling terrain was a bit hilly in spots in stark contrast to the flat expanse that is greater Amsterdam, and rose up to a tree-lined bluff overlooking t'IJ. A sizable crowd was already in evidence by the time we arrived. Everyone was having a blast and lots of people were openly smoking joints. During the course of the evening, we met bleak and his girlfriend, Marco's attractive visitor from Austria, as well as the founder of the free arts collective bleak is involved with, before settling down to watch some of the evening's acts, which included a spoken word performance accompanied by violin, as well as live music. After a short break for food, bleak got up to perform. As I had never heard his music before, nor knew that he was a composer for that matter, the experience was revelatory to say the least. To my uneducated ear, bleak blends rhythms, vocal samples, and percussive elements together to create an overall structure that is more akin to a haunting, contrapuntal musical poem than a straight forward melody. It's very chill yet cerebral stuff to listen to, stoned. Very cool.
Our evening at the NSDM wharf concluded with a brilliant display of fireworks that was staged nightly for SailAmsterdam, which we watched from the bluff. By chance, it also dovetailed neatly with the departure of the last regular ferry for the day, which we hastily made for after taking our leave of everyone. On the trip back, we crossed paths with a number of ships before getting back to CS, hopping the Metro to Nieuwmarkt, and arriving on the doorstep of The Green Place.
gapie was quite keen on the Sour Kush which we purchased in addition to a gram each of Blue Berry Cheese and Trainwreck. I ended up liking the Trainwreck very much, both for its fruity flavor as well as for its sunny high. In terms of flavor, the Blue Berry Cheese fell short of the Blue Cheese I obtained from Papillon. As Boner has noted in the past, all of the strains I purchased from The Green Place were underflushed and burned down to jet black ash.
After sharing a spliff, we bade goodnight to gapie as it was very late and hailed a cab back to the apartment. On the way, we picked up a couple of turkish pizzas from Ali Baba, one of the late night doner joints on Rozengracht, which proved to be substantially inferior to ones we had from Mercan Patisserie further down. Unlike the latter, Ali Baba's flatbread was not as flaky and singed, which meant that it rapidly soaked up all the grease, turning it into an indistinguishable tube of meat goo. It hardly mattered at that point however, as Crash and I had had a very long and exciting day full of new encounters and experiences. Sleep was nigh instantaneous. End day four.
* I took some menu pix at Barney's but they came out rather blurry, so I didn't include them. Just as well, since they were identical to the ones Colina took the week before.
** I owe a belated thanks to Crash for the brand new Fuji FinePix 12MP camera he lent me on this trip. Couldn't have done this without you, buddy.
gapie wanted to go home afterwards (no doubt for some extra sleep) and asked us to meet him after 16:00 at the Grey Area where he would be rolling joints. We said our goodbyes, and Crash and I strolled over to the Prinsengracht and made our way to the Noordermarkt where the weekly farmers' market was taking place. The weather was holding up that day though we rarely got to see any sunshine. On the way over, we passed by Winkel 43, which I had been meaning to try for their apple pie. Crash secured a spot at one of the large communal tables facing the plaza while I went inside to pick up pie and coffee. A sign on the counter stated that they would be serving a limited menu that day due to the overwhelming demand for appeltart, which boded well. While they were filling my order, I was tickled to see them squirt mounds of whipped cream from a stainless steel fixture installed in the counter much like a draught beer tap. Really wanted a hit off that thing.
The pie lived up to its billing and then some. Despite being laden with chunks of apples and currants, it had a remarkably smooth and silken texture accentuated by the harmonious blending of cinnamon, nutmeg, and allspice. Crash, who was a baker in a former life, remarked that it was the best he ever had.
Next, we strolled over to the actual market. When we were there last year, one vendor had set up a tent hung with a few fresh hams along with a huge pot of bubbling pea soup, and it was my hope to encounter him again at lunchtime. Unfortunately, he was nowhere to be found, but there was still the same fantastic variety of artisanal breads, cheeses, and fruit for us to choose from. We acquired a small chevre encrusted with fresh rosemary for €3,50, and Crash hand-picked a couple of croissants and a loaf of sourdough. We weren't quite hungry yet and the morning wake-and-bake was wearing off, so we wandered over to Barney's.
At Barneys*, I was horrified at the new re-design. They took out all the tables and chairs; and replaced them with rows of narrow counters and skinny barstools in a thinly-veiled attempt to maximize seating and minimize comfort. What's next, cattle pens where customers huff vapor through a single showerhead extruding multiple whips? I could hear the marketing session in my head: "Let's pack them like sardines, sell them our marked up weed and a few over-priced drinks apiece, and just to make sure they don't stay long, we'll make the seats really uncomfortable. If they complain, send them over to the Farm or Uptown where they can buy the same over-priced drinks." The crew manning the coffeeshop were obviously well-trained and totally in-sync; they effortlessly rotated positions between budtender, bartender, and doorman while I was there. They were ruthlessly efficient at checking ids and at least two parties were turned away for lacking sufficient proof of age. On the other hand, I was surprised that they brought our coffees to our table though they were not very busy at the time. As for the weed, the dealer patiently opened up at least six or seven different tubs for me to sniff. My choice ended up being the Blue Crimea which had a lovely aroma that vanished on the inhale. Crash and I got baked nevertheless and left Barney's as we were ready for some nosh.
For a dining destination, I was inspired by cantona7's description of his favorite canal bench, which, if I have correctly interpreted his description, lies two short blocks south of coffeeshop Popeye at the intersection of the Brouwersgracht and the Herengracht. As we unwrapped our picnic lunch, a group of diners settled into a private table owned by the posh restaurant de Belhamel next to us. The fact that I was enjoying the same view as they and paying just a scant fraction of the cost of their meal, made my simple bread and cheese taste all the better. Afterwards, Crash wanted to go back to Cafe Winkel for more apple pie, but I demurred, a decision which I regret now.
The view from cantona7's fave canal bench (I think)
We decided to hit Dampkring afterwards to replenish our dwindling stocks. On the first day we arrived, I had tried to take a picture of the menu only to discover that they had installed computer monitors displaying the same into the dealer's counter. As the counter came up to my solar plexus, all my pix came out looking something like this. Fortunately, there was a friendly redheaded Dutch budtender on duty that day, 6'5" if not taller, who gladly obliged me by leaning over and snapping this pic:
Although, it doesn't appear legible at first glance, you can actually see the text quite clearly if you zoom in.**
This time, we picked up a gram of the King Hassan and a half-gram of the Cheese Skunk. We took them back by the drinks counter where we ordered two belgian hot chocolates, and proceeded to bong the cheese skunk. The weed did not particularly stand out but the King Hassan tasted like a fine Moroccan hash it was, except that it cost only €7,50 per gram.
Next, we dropped into Homegrown Fantasy where Crash picked up some more Shiva which was not nearly as fragrant as the sample we had from de Graal. We made a quick stop at Anyday afterwards, to pick up another gram of the Durban Poison hash as well as some more Honeydew, before heading south to Grey Area where gapie was waiting. On the way, I decided on an impulse to get more Hindu Kush ice-o-lator from Club Media, as we were running low, and I wanted to stockpile some for the evening's festivities, and for later on. I pointed Crash in the direction of Grey Area and caught a no. 16 tram bound for the Albert Cuypmarkt where I made a beeline for Media and pocketed a gram of their HK ice. Since I was making excellent time, I dashed over to Papillon for another 2g of their tasty Blue Cheese. Much to my pleasant surprise, the dealer gave me a 10% discount for the measly two gram buy; I had never heard of any coffeeshop rewarding customers for such a small purchase until then. I left doubly impressed by Papillon, by both the quality and low cost of their merchandise, as well as for the tastefully subdued decor and plush seating of their interior. In my mind, it compares favorably to coffeeshop Amnesia; both shops strive to be stylish and comfortable -- Papillon just happens to be much cheaper.
By this point, I was desperate for a shower after all this running around, so I hightailed it back to the apartment via tram, stood briefly under the running water, changed, and walked over to the Grey Area. As usual, it was packed. Jon was presiding at the bud counter that day, but he was engrossed in conversation with a regular, so I just said hello and picked up a gram of Greyberry. Crash and gapie were sitting perpendicular at the far end of the counter where small heaps of pre-rolleds lay before them. They were already nicely high and I spent the better part of an hour trying to catch up. Before long, we realized that daylight was fading so we arranged to meet up with Marco at the NDSM Wharf, but not before stopping by Albert Heijn for a few Dommelsch beers.
As we visited during the SailAmsterdam 2010 regatta, we were able to glimpse some of the unique vessels which were crowding the harbor at the time, including a russian submarine that we passed within several meters. As promised, Marco was awaiting us at the ferry landing. One of the first things he did was to thank gapie profusely for the prior day's gift of weed and to assure him that he had smoked every last bit. Marco then led us to the outdoor area where bleak was performing, which I was surprised to see was a largely undeveloped park. There were only two or three low buildings that seemed more like temporary structures than permanent edifices, a makeshift barbeque patio, and a couple of porta-johns set up to accomodate the milling attendees. The rolling terrain was a bit hilly in spots in stark contrast to the flat expanse that is greater Amsterdam, and rose up to a tree-lined bluff overlooking t'IJ. A sizable crowd was already in evidence by the time we arrived. Everyone was having a blast and lots of people were openly smoking joints. During the course of the evening, we met bleak and his girlfriend, Marco's attractive visitor from Austria, as well as the founder of the free arts collective bleak is involved with, before settling down to watch some of the evening's acts, which included a spoken word performance accompanied by violin, as well as live music. After a short break for food, bleak got up to perform. As I had never heard his music before, nor knew that he was a composer for that matter, the experience was revelatory to say the least. To my uneducated ear, bleak blends rhythms, vocal samples, and percussive elements together to create an overall structure that is more akin to a haunting, contrapuntal musical poem than a straight forward melody. It's very chill yet cerebral stuff to listen to, stoned. Very cool.
Our evening at the NSDM wharf concluded with a brilliant display of fireworks that was staged nightly for SailAmsterdam, which we watched from the bluff. By chance, it also dovetailed neatly with the departure of the last regular ferry for the day, which we hastily made for after taking our leave of everyone. On the trip back, we crossed paths with a number of ships before getting back to CS, hopping the Metro to Nieuwmarkt, and arriving on the doorstep of The Green Place.
gapie was quite keen on the Sour Kush which we purchased in addition to a gram each of Blue Berry Cheese and Trainwreck. I ended up liking the Trainwreck very much, both for its fruity flavor as well as for its sunny high. In terms of flavor, the Blue Berry Cheese fell short of the Blue Cheese I obtained from Papillon. As Boner has noted in the past, all of the strains I purchased from The Green Place were underflushed and burned down to jet black ash.
After sharing a spliff, we bade goodnight to gapie as it was very late and hailed a cab back to the apartment. On the way, we picked up a couple of turkish pizzas from Ali Baba, one of the late night doner joints on Rozengracht, which proved to be substantially inferior to ones we had from Mercan Patisserie further down. Unlike the latter, Ali Baba's flatbread was not as flaky and singed, which meant that it rapidly soaked up all the grease, turning it into an indistinguishable tube of meat goo. It hardly mattered at that point however, as Crash and I had had a very long and exciting day full of new encounters and experiences. Sleep was nigh instantaneous. End day four.
* I took some menu pix at Barney's but they came out rather blurry, so I didn't include them. Just as well, since they were identical to the ones Colina took the week before.
** I owe a belated thanks to Crash for the brand new Fuji FinePix 12MP camera he lent me on this trip. Couldn't have done this without you, buddy.
Everyone seems normal until you get to know them.
Titus old buddy! Excellent report I'm loving the detail! I've just got back from a holiday with the fam which was very enjoyable and relaxing. However ive not been smoking while away, so its been great to come back to an oz of Amnesia Cheese and a read of your adventures..I demolished a Q yesterday and was so wrecked I had to wait till this morning to post something legible in response.. I new you'd document and photograph every morsel you consumed!! Excellent.. And there’s nothing wrong with photographing your food! The Mercan pattiserie Turkish pizza looked awesome but I bet you were hankering after a fully dipped Al’s Italian beef or 2! I do most days’ ha-ha. Looking forward to the rest of the story, speak soon
The Mercan pattiserie Turkish pizza looked awesome but I bet you were hankering after a fully dipped Al’s Italian beef or 2! I do most days’ ha-ha. Looking forward to the rest of the story, speak soon
Last edited by NIZZLE on Mon 6th Sep 2010 10:32 pm, edited 1 time in total.