I am starting to post 
Here is day one. Enjoy 
Day 1, Wed April 8th, 2009
It was a dark an stormy morning! Dare I use it? Oh hell yah! Because it most certainly was. Dark, rainy, windy & semi-cold! Eueuwww! Dropping into Shiphol airport the weather didn't look too promising (so what) wait and see. Good weather usually follows me. So be a little more patient Hestia, let the Sun catch up with you! Off the plane and onto a train. Passing terrain getting ready to absolutely burst with spring. The air and earth smell pregnant wit a new coming blooming time. I had almost forgotten it, the smell of ending winter, My nostrils widen and pulse quickens. A-dam, here we come.
I'm so lucky. This time L. Is able to come for a week, just lovely, we always have such a good time together. He's a wonderful fellow and gets me when no one else can. I'm serious when I say that I don't have to play lotto, I've already won when I met an married L. So! Let's party babe, although it's only a week, we're going to make hay while the sun shines (as the old saying goes) While L. Isn't a smoker, that's OK, I don't drink but he will. So we each get out buzzes on.
First stop after central station was a gift shop to get a cheap pipe, then Picasso's. I had been told that Picasso's was the place to go for good vibes, orange bud, free breakfast and early opening. Well, I guess 1 out of 4 ain't bad! What a drag! Open early, sure. But why? No orange bud, but I tried another type, what kind I can't say, reminded me of lawn clippings. The bud tender had all the charm of a board! And no breakfast, despite a sign in the window advertising one. He made us feel like we were putting him out, but he didn't have any problem taking 10 Euro from me for crap weed. This place was so UN-cool I actually felt sorry for the toothless hooker.
Needless to say, we to the hell out of there and walked over to the Freeland coffee shop. Now this is more like it, good weed (LA confidential), good hot chocolate, Internet access, nice people willing to point us in the right direction, to the good taxies and what not to pay over. While there I smoked a spiff with 3 very nice people from England and Australia. Happy 30th English!
Also told the bud tender that the rain would stop that day, starting tomorrow, nothing but Sun,.he looked at me like I was out of my mind! More on this as we go along. Freeland is busier upstairs in t the smoking area than down in the pure weed area.
Walked about a block to the taxi stand the bud tender had recommended and took a Mercedes taxi to the room we were renting in the Jordaan. Without the luggage, without the rain it would have been an easy walk, one we made several times through the week. Cold, wet, unfamiliar with the area, not knowing the busses or trams yet, the extra was worth it to get right to the door. We rented a room in a private residence from a lady who rents her Son's old room to help make ends meet now that said son is out on his own. Nice room, opening onto a terrace on a canal. The only thing I might have changed about it would have been to have a toilet on the same floor, the shower was right there, but the john was up some steep, narrow stairs.
After talking to the lady for a while and a warming cup of coffee, we wandered out into the drizzle again to a restaurant she recommended on the prinsengracht. She said it was a good lunch place, probably not the best for dinner. She was right. We got a window seat with a view of a canal and people walking in the rain and some good chicken vegetable soup with some hot tea. Good stuff on a cold day. Then we wandered back to the room and crashed out for a bit, to allow out bodies to adjust to the different day. When we left it was Tuesday morning, several house of flying later it was Wednesday and we were in a different country. Sleeping in coach can be difficult.
After our much needed nap, we started by sharing a cup of coffee with our landlord. Or at least I did. L took her up on the offer of a Heiniken. Talk somehow drifted to Jenever. The dutch get upset if you mistake it for gin, they claim they are entirely different things. Gin from potatoes, jenever from grain. Jenever comes in 3 grades, jounge jenever, Oude jenever which has some aging to it, and kornwein jenever the old aged smooth stuff. L was introduced to the Dutch equivalent of a boilermaker. I don't know the spelling of the Dutch name, it comes out sounding like "cop shot", jounge jenever chilled backed w/heiniken. It definitely caught L's attention.
We set out to explore in search of dinner. We wandered down Marnixstraat to Rozengracht, hung a left and followed the crowds to a more bustling area, where we were able to pick from several restaurants. We chose an Argentinean steak house to splurge and splurged on a nice steak w/ shrimp dinner. They had a resident cat who helped with any extra nibbles that needed to be disposed of. Amsterdam has some tough cats with attitude. This one's attitude was "feed me or else". It tried to take a chunk out of L when he didn't feed it fast enough.
Walking back after the feast, we stopped off at the Bronx coffee shop, since it was in the neighbor hood where we were staying. It was OK, I guess. I got a blueberry cheese, it was a fair buzz but a bit harsh on my throat. Also it was too hot in there for a comfortable visit. And "well just to be honest", we didn't feel the vibe in there. I' sure it's a nice enough place. But I just didn't stop in but the one time, and that was fine. Enough said about the Bronx, back to the room.
Couldn't figure out how to get the TV to work, too tired to mess with it much, tomorrow's another day. Just set on the terrace, rolled up a spiff and called it a night.
