When last we left our intrepid adventurer he was on a train out of Hamburg, Germany on his way to Amsterdam.
After a few hours of pinging back and forth on the Dutch rail system and helping out a couple of Scots and an Indian guy(that was the second time I bailed him out, actually. Long story.), I finally got on the right train to end up at my destination. Amsterdam. Centraal Station.
I got off of the train, lugged my bag out and it was perfect. A light breeze, just brisk enough for a nice jacket, a little sun, not a drop of rain in sight.
I went to my hostel, the Flying Pig and found out that I had a few hours to kill. I thought about what I would want to do and my aching everything reminded me that I might want to look into a nice indica.
So my first coffeeshop was Blues Brothers and I got a nice Mango Haze. They have a 10 Euro minimum and that ended up getting me around 1.2 grams. It was a nice smoke. Smooth, nice mellow, good stone. The thing I liked about this one is that it had a pretty quick come up and it was really easy to tell when you were about to go too far with smoking it and could back off a bit.
Once I got checked in I decided to amble around town and take in the sights and discovered...the fair was in town!
That picture was taken right in the middle of Dam Square. I thought about taking one of the rides but thought better of it.
After a nice day wandering around I returned to the Flying Pig to further smoke my gains in the smoking room and met people from all across Europe, learned new things, and answered questions about the volcano and Iceland.
Because I was extremely tired I decided to call it an early night.
The next day was, like the one before it, big and beautiful.
I decided that, since I didn't yesterday, I would get the appointment to get the tattoo I had planned on getting and then hit another coffeeshop.
I headed down to the House of Tattoos and started noticing lots of coffeeshops that I had read about. Green Place, Barney's, etc. It was hard but I resisted the urge to take a quick detour as I wanted to get my appointment done and not get sidetracked.
It was a good thing I did because they had an opening..in about a half an hour. So I discussed my design and was told to get some food, relax, don't smoke or drink, and come back in about a half an hour.
And this was when something special happened.
It was after I got my tiny very tasty vegetarian brunch and I decided that I would head over to a cafe right across from House of Tattoos. I got myself a nice big cup of coffee which came with lots of milk, sugar and a cookie. Some people were chatting away in Dutch, one or two people caught my eye and smiled and I smiled and nodded back. After about five minutes I got this warm and cozy feeling. Like when you are curled up with a nice cup of hot cocoa in front of a fire on a chilly winter night. It was really quite nice. I realized, almost as an afterthought, that I had read about this.
This was gezellig.
Now I wish I could tell you guys that I nodded stoically and smiled grimly or something like that, but that would be a bunch of BS. I had been through fire and ice to get here. I left behind the pub crawls and allure of Iceland. Cold, sleep dep, hunger, the whole 9 to get there. It was finally ok for me to relax. I had made it. I was in Amsterdam. I was grateful for my good stern hat as it hid the one tear I wasn't able to catch before it fell.
I composed myself, finished my coffee and headed to get my tattoo.
For a bit of background, this was my 2nd tattoo. My first one was a bloody and traumatic experience with lots of cursing from all involved. Because of this I was a little nervous about it and Mauritz(the guy giving the tat) made sure to let me know that I could take a break whenever I needed to.
However, something happened between when I got my first ink in '97 and that day in April. We did the entire session with no bleeding, no grumbling, and no breaks. I would even describe it as pleasant.
So I left the shop 180 Euros poorer and one tattoo richer. It was time to celebrate. And that meant only one thing...
HASH!
Since I wasn't a heavy smoker I wanted something nice but not Uber Thunder Terminator. As I was passing Barney's on the way "home" I decided to give them a shot. I sidled up to the bar, full of endorphins and polite bravado and asked for a menu and picked the 10 Euro hash(can't recall the name). My logic was that as the cheapest one it would be a nice not too potent smoke.
The budtender made a face and recommended I step up my game to the 11 Euro hash. The King Hassan. After a moment I agreed, thinking to myself, "Sure, why not. It's my first hash. Let's do it right. Besides. How much of a difference can 1 Euro make?"
Copied from my review on this board of Barney's.
to quote The Pirate Captain from Venture Brothers. "It's like getting sucked off by an angel. Sweet angel with a tranquillizer."
Or put simply. It was AWESOME.
I continued wandering around town and smelled a familiar scent. There was a Buddhist temple nearby. I followed my nose and I was right.
I paid a Euro and got the Dharma bit from the temple(that's a small bit of paper rolled up in a scroll).
I don't have it on me now(I'll update it on the edit) but basically it said that adversity could make you a better person.
I headed back to the FP and again, smoked some of my gains and learned that I love, love, love hash.
I woked up the next day and decided that I wanted..a sativa.
After a lot more wandering about I found the one place I was hoping to visit. Basjoe's!
I went in and..James was there!
I got a Heavenly Haze for 12 Euros. He said it was the best. I sat outside to watch the day go by and smoke it with a chocomel. It was a delightful smoke, a little bit more punch on the inhale and a stronger high than the Mango Haze but not as much of a punch as the King Hassan.
Before I continue, a stoned observation about the Red Light District and the working ladies therein. When I went to a strip club in the US, the person that took me nicknamed the experiencing "feeding the ducks" and I ask him why that was. He took out about 20 dollar bills and started waving them around and he got inundated by strippers, much like ducks swarm someone who has a loaf of bread. The RLD was much like this, except the "ducks" were kept behind glass and tapped on said glass. A lot. This was impossible to ignore but irritating enough to easily resist.
And so another day passed in Amsterdam.
Now the last day of my vacation.
There were a lot of things I had to give up for this vacation. There was one thing I was still able to do.
The Elf Fantasy Fair!
And I got some goood pics.
That is the castle that it took place in.
A pic of satyrs for a dear friend.
Aragorn from Lord of the Rings lying in state.
And no, I did not take advantage of the free hugs. If I did not hit on painfully attractive women while 15 drinks in, I can resist being creepy when mostly sober.
And thus ended my first trip to Amsterdam.
Weed was smoked, fun was had by all.
But next time, I hope to cut out the Northern Europe Detour.
.
