It's 1990 and wanderlust stirs again in the heart of the young man. The City of Sin calls out, across the miles of ocean, to his still-questing soul. A little older, perhaps a little wiser, but his memory of the sparkling lights has never faded. He has a new bride, and behold; she is a European of fine Old World stock. Transplanted to these frigid shores by misadventure, she yearns for the cultured ways of home.
As with all new Love, the stories of their lives pour out, forming a kaleidoscope of colour upon the canvas of their future plans. Patterns emerge, and a desire for world travel stands out boldly. The young man ponders long, but finally casts his Fate to the winds and tells her about the Promised Land. The (somewhat edited 
) tale of the young man's follies stir her desire for adventure and a flight into fantasy is proposed.
This trip actually starts and ends in May in London, England, land of tea and crumpets. Born a Cockney, but dragged to The Frozen North in my youth, I wanted to show the bride around the old stompin' grounds before moving on to Amsterdam. So, we munched fish & chips (still served in newspaper then), strolled the crowded streets of London looking at monuments daily and crawled the pubs nightly.
One really great spot we found for a quiet smoke was right in London, off Roehampton Lane. We ducked behind this row of huge skyscrapers and found an old bombed-out medieval church that had been converted into a park. St. Dunstan's in the East, with beautiful flower gardens, benches, cobble-stone paths, a fountain, it was amazing!We sat for 3 hours and only 1 other person came in. An oasis in the middle of London! It was free to enter then, but they charge now, so maybe no smoking either(?). [Maybe some of the local lads could let us all know?] Soon the combustibles ran low and it was time to move along. We have a grandiose plan that goes something like this; we spend 3 days in every country in Northern and Central Europe, see everything, do everything, but we're going to start in Amsterdam. Yeah, I hear you all laughing.....
We start out from Victoria Station, London. Before we board the bus, we decide to eat some typical crap American food and head into McD's. The local colour kicks in right away, as a young female panhandler approaches our table. She's stumbling badly and has a can of lighter fluid to her lips, which she is drinking
! Partway to our table she's distracted by someone's leftovers and stops to eat. By the time she looked up we were gone. On to the bus and headed to the ship.
Gotta be honest here, I'm drawing a complete blank on the ship journey. Might have been a Willie Nelson moment (got a vague memory of a movie in a small theatre, but I think that was 1984 trip). The bus is now on European soil, and we're motoring for The Dam. The stops in Den Hague and Rotterdam were informative, but we're sober by now and looking forward to the destination. I still don't know too much about this place, but I'm better than last time. We arrive (at Damrak, I think), and walk all the way to the Leidseplein and do business at the Bulldog. (well, I said I didn't know much...
)
I can still picture the menu, written on a blackboard, everything the same price (16 guilders, if I recall) just differing amounts. This was kid-in-candy-store time and I bought one of almost everything. Back then we had reasonable hash at home, but crappy weed. The black was worse than at home (too dry), but the reds and blonds were far better. However the weed was exceptional, by my standards, and I raved about it for years back home. Imagine if I'd found a REAL coffeeshop! Still, it was working very nicely, thank you, and we ordered drinks. A quick twist-up and I've got the 2nd one burning, but half way through it my darling bride's eyes roll up and she pitches off the bar-stool. The friendly Israeli chick we'd been chatting to helped me carry her up onto the square for some air. I don't remember a glass awning or tables out front back then, so it was a short carry. She revived shortly and we decided to head to the hotel (yes, I actually booked one this time, sort of, read on).
A quick stop at a tourist information booth gained us the directions (those girls spoke over 30 languages!) and we found ourselves at a beautiful canal house, right at a cross-street, on the top floor. A bit of a walk up the stairs, but what a view! Tudor style, all stucco and wood beams, gorgeous! Unfortunately it was only available that one night and we had to move to another hotel.
And this is where the story gets Amsterdammed again, but this time in a good way. We go to our new hotel to find that they've double-booked our room, and the others are already here. No other rooms are available
. The owner of the hotel (a youngish woman) apologizes strongly and says “I have a loft apartment in my own home, and it's empty at the moment. Please take that for the same cost as here.” Sounds like a nice deal, but you never know, she does look well-dressed, though. We jump in her BMW and drive to her house, backing onto the Rembrandtpark. The loft is four rooms with most of the roof as balcony and looking into the park! We had worried that it wouldn't be alright to smoke there, but as she shows us in, we spot a blade-scarred mirror glued to the coffee table. Yes, it's gonna be fine
.
You all know the next question I asked; Can we stay longer? And she said stay as long as you like. There went Germany, Italy, and Spain off the schedule, Amsterdam it was, for the next 10 days. We still made it to Belgium and France briefly, though.
The city was being beautified at this time. Building faces were being cleaned, the canals were being dredged (some surprising things appeared), and it was really showing up nicely from under the grime of centuries. Looked even better in the sun after the typical morning rains in May. We would go to breakfast, let the rains wash the streets and come out to a fine sunny day. That's my main memory from 1990; sunny skies with freshly rain-washed streets, flowers blooming in the tiniest spaces, and happy bustling people. However, this is the time when I learned about Amsterdam traffic. Being raised with wider streets, and no bike lanes, it was disconcerting to learn that at any given moment, the space you're occupying might become filled by 2 buses, 3 cars, 5 bikes and a crowd of drunken tourists!
Cameras had film then, and we took 10 rolls of pics in 2 days(still figuring out how to post them here). Mainly we did the touristy things, seeing the famous sights and museums, taking photos, walking, drinking, smoking. Discovered new coffeeshops, but no particular place stands out in my mind except the RLD area. We wandered around it several times, discovering it was larger than first thought, and the tiny narrow streets were so intriguing. We got an education from the sex-shop windows, and I had a time explaining what some of the things were for
.
A fun restaurant memory; This place claiming to sell the “world's largest hamburger” drew us in right around Happy Hour one day. They were absolutely correct, we just barely managed one burger between the two of us, and the entertainment was epic! A New Zealand rugby team was there drinking 2-for-one beer by the tray-full, they had so many trays on their tables that the waitress kept asking them to drink faster, so the glasses could be used by others. I'm sure this upset them badly
. They were fun to watch, I don't think they damaged too much of the furniture, but when the trays started to get airborne, we left.
All around a more gentle version of the 1984 trip, with an important bring-home item; our daughter was born 9 months later
. We still tell her she was made in Amsterdam!
Cheers, Eurotripper
. I was just being daft, thinking that the edit wouldn't touch the topic heading. Now I'll start on 1990's trip.
. I'll investigate a hosting site and see what I can do.....