And trains to Amsterdam, of course. The next direct train is in half an hour, says the official I ask, after making great play of his handheld whatsit. The implication being that if I'm clever enough to be up to changing trains, I have to ask explicitly about them. I don't feel up to having of those elaborate Dutch official conversations, so I head off to soak in half an hour's worth of Rotterdam with a fag and coffee, if I'm lucky. On the way out I see a train to the Hague that's about to leave, so I get on it; had I asked the man with the whatsit, I'd undoubtedly have missed it. End up in A'dam 20 minutes earlier than I would have done with the direct train.
Can't check in till noon, so I get some hash (Black Bombay, a bargain at €5) from Central and go to Voyager's, where I settle down with 1g of Kosher Kush. I've been hoping to see Smokey again, and make the acquaintance of the other cat with the cast, but they've been eaten by a bear, it seems, who now gallops about the place. Such is life.
So many people had seemed to be on the quest of Kosher Kush that I was expecting something special, but I was disappointed. It was OK, but didn't really come to life before I added the hash to it. For that price I could get 2g of something I wouldn't consider inferior in quality. Perhaps I'm just an uncircumcised philistine, but I want more bang for my buck.
Check into the hotel, go off to de Pijp to start serious shopping. Pick up some Nepal at Papillon. Now where's Katsu and their Black Widow? I've been here before, but can't quite remember. It's 1e van der Helststraat, I know, but that's unmarked on my frugal Dutch map. I'm on 2e van der Helststraat, so the first one must be parallel. Try going east – no, nothing there. West, then – nope. I'm running out of options, and then I remember that the first/second thing means the continuation of the street, not a parallel one the way it does elsewhere. You could almost think they do it on purpose.
Then off to the centre for Nepal Cream from Utopia and various other purchases that, frankly, all get a bit muddled without notes. At some point I thought I'd try to get a pic of Chico/a at Rusland, as I've done on every visit since November last year (hadn't been for 4 years before that). But what's going on here? It seems to transform itself every few months or so – redecorated once this year already – but now it's calling itself Café Russia and opening at 7. Cat bowl in its place, no sign of cat. The budtender says the new owner has changed things. 'Even a different cat?' I ask, which he confirms.
I'm gutted. I'm sure Chico/a's sleeping as happily on cushions somewhere else, but I feel as if I've lost my cat. Perhaps he'd be at 't Ballonnetje, Rusland's sister shop? He's not, though the excellent nederhash is. I go back to my hotel via de Graal, which wasn't open earlier, it being Sunday. My favourite budtender appears endearingly stoned, fumbles about the green and eventually manages to confirm that there's no NYC Diesel. OK, more Nepal, best stick with hash.
Then back to the the hotel. Faced with the 60 steps to my room, I decide to pretend that I'm walking in the mountains around Innsbruck at the top and looking down, about to begin the painful and tricky business of descending (if your legs aren't used to it, going downhill hurts more than uphill the second day). And do you know what? It works, just about. If you've smoked enough, at least.
I'll sum up the next five days in a subsequent post or post, depending on how it goes.
The Voyagers bear, just finishing off one of the cats:
Why cats are a good thing in Mokum:
Looks like I've found Jesus:
We know those stairs, don't we?
My hotel room, somewhere in a time warp:
..................I like your reports 