Falling in love again – November 2011

[Smith2]

I'd been to Amsterdam a lot in the '80s; then once in 2008, mainly because I had a passport that was going to expire without having been used, so sedentary had I become. But my four-day trip, though fun, left me thinking that I was too old for this city, which wasn't the same any more in any case.

But in November 2011 I began toying with the idea of a day trip to Mokum. Why not? People did it from London to Paris or Brussels. It was just slightly more gruelling to do this one, at least if you avoided flying. My local sources were a dealer who was out of town and someone paying me back money in the form of medical marijuana cunningly disguised, but this had become increasingly 'the cheque is in the post' stories. The £40 that I spend on the fare was on a par with what I'd paid for day trips to Derby and Altrincham, which are completely bare of attractions of any kind. And if the wietpas was brought in, this might be my last chance. It was simply an unconventional shopping trip.

I looked up the date I was going to see if there were any free concerts on that day, as there often are, and discovered something interesting: the day I was going was a 24-hour transit strike affecting every form of public transport. And I was going to arrive at Amstel Station, which I knew moderately well, but only as something miles out, accessible by dreary bus (as it was back then) or the one Metro line (ditto). So I'd have to walk, or take a taxi, but given that I'd be arriving so early, there was nothing really to take a taxi to. (Didn't know about Central coffeeshop or the other early openers at the time.) Oh joy.

By the day of the trip, I was a nervous wreck. How could I ever have thought this was a good idea? What would start ringing bells more loudly than a day trip to Amsterdam? Would my impossible-to-fail technique turn out to be not that clever after all? Besides, I'd be arriving after nearly 12 hours on a coach and ferry, so probably tired, and have to be out and about for the next 15 hours, after which I'd do the long trip again, but this time looking fairly wrecked, and probably feeling it. I'd arrive back on Monday – assuming Her Majesty's agents hadn't found me an interesting interlocutor – and have to go to work later in the day. At best it would be an exhausting and horrible weekend.

At least pessimists are never disappointed, and sometimes they're pleasantly surprised. I'll continue this later.

[Sailor59]

Sometimes the day trips turn out to be epic. I've had a few.

Our American cousins would give a right bollock to be able to hop over the ditch for a one dayer when the mood takes.

[Slim d]

[quote="Sailor59"]Sometimes the day trips turn out to be epic.


+1

[Smith2]

At Victoria, with proleptic smoker's paranoia, I could swear that the woman who looks at my ticket does a double-take when she sees that I'm coming back the next day. Then the dreary slog down to the coast, always longer than you think, then the ferry where I smoke the last of my tobacco and have a couple of beers. Always the most civilised part of the trip. Then back on the coach for the harder part, the French-Belgian-Dutch plains of nothingness. At least I don't see it in the dark. As we pass Antwerp, I give a symbolic wave to my welshing non-correspondent.

The bus arrives early, at 6.30am: it's cold, and heavy fog makes it hard to see how the streets correspond to the map that I need for this unfamiliar side of Amsterdam. I could walk straight down the Wibautstraat, but that's dull; I've opted for the scenic route through de Pijp, where I've never been, to my shame. My mood lifts as the fog does, and I wander through Sarphati Park with the ducks and the joggers. I don't expect anywhere to be open this early on a Sunday for respectable things like coffee and tobacco, and there isn't, but as I come out of the park a bookshop appears to be open. Not believing this, I go to take a closer look, and discover that the actual shop is closed, but there's a shelf of trust outside: take a book, leave a couple of euro.



By the time I get to Weteringschans I'm beginning to feel the grogginess that one might expect after walking for hours taking photos after a night of little sleep and no breakfast. I'm nearly asleep on my feet as I cross that vast expanse that reminds me how far I still am from the centre. But as I walk down Vijzelstraat, I see that Mellow Yellow is already open. Never been there, but I need coffee and a smoke very much. So I go in and say that to an impassive budtender, who serves me lifesaving cappuccino and a special €10 deal for 2g of White Widow.

Suddenly I'm alive again. A local woman comes in, obviously a friend of the people who work there, expressly to have a moan about some problems she's having with the council. It's one of those slightly surreal Mokum moments: she's middle-aged, Dutch, smoking a pure tobacco cigarette (yes, MY is a non-smoking place), and the staff are – not sure, Moroccan? – and young enough to be her grandchildren, or mine, probably. The surreality is heightened by the fact that she's saying that she needs a ticket from the school because of the women she's got tied up in her flat. Well, to be honest, she's probably not saying that. I don't really understand Dutch, but I can sort of follow bits of conversations because I know German. Except for the crucial words, unfortunately. Never mind. Whatever she was really complaining about was undoubtedly less interesting. And I know I'm back in Mokum, and I'm happy.

And more stoned that I'd thought possible, as I explain to the still impassive budtender while searching for my lost lighter. I find it and wander down towards the centre, determined not to be seduced by any more lovely but bulky greenery as I go in search of hash. Start at the Rusland, traditional for me, where I get some Afghan and meet Chico/Chica for the first time:



To be continued.

[Smith2]

From Rusland to Siberië for more black hash, though can't remember what – Nepal, probably. And I prize their atmosphere, and coffee, and their spacious non-tobacco section. Noticed that Sunday trading had apparently come to Amsterdam since I'd last been there, and of course the Dutch do this sort of thing much more sensibly than the English, and supermarkets were open until 10. And thanks to the transit strike, I could experience it as few people ever would – without trams. Definitely an improvement.

Very dull picture of an Amsterdam Sunday taken while sitting outside an Albert Heijn:



Eventually wandered back towards the station. Went to Sarphati Park again, and got told off by a rather strange type for taking pictures of his dogs frolicking with other dogs. Took a picture of a lost cat poster, mainly because I thought that it said that the cat was small and thin like a junkie, which I found a bit harsh on the cat in question, but later learnt that it meant young one rather than junkie. The surreality of inadequate Dutch again.



Family scene in the park:



Arsehole retreating with his camera-shy dogs:



Sampled a few of the shops on Van Woustraat and enjoyed some splendidly awful eurotelevision. At one place I was immensely flattered by the attentions of a cat, who ignored the two other customers watching English football with the sort of interest I never really understand, but hey, they had their football, and I had a transitory friend:



I left my pipe in an otherwise empty tobacco tin on the street – wonder if someone found it who might use it – and went to Amstel Station. Man behind the counter, probably bored, trying to put the fear of God into everyone: 'You must put your name on every bag, even the carrier bags with food! They will inspect everything!' Well, they could.

But they didn't. This time I got more sleep, and of course on the ferry you can stretch out – luxury! And as the coach goes past my house, the driver let me and someone else nip out at that point – strictly against the rules – saving me from the pointless crawl to Victoria and back. Truly a magic trip. I relaxed in a well-deserved bath, knowing that I had a good variety of smokables to get me through the foreseeable future.

I was in love with Mokum again, and would make eight more trips over the next year. I took trips to Haarlem and Lemmer and Leeuwarden, went to museums I hadn't seen before and revisited those I had. I discovered bitterballen and ate very good Surinamese-Chinese food, and dipped my toe into the world of pubs – in principle I never drank in A'dam, as one can drink anywhere in Europe, and I refused to waste open smoking time on an inferior intoxicant. But it's part of the culture, so I'm glad I did.

I'd do a day trip quite differently if I did one now: I'd take the Metro, or walk down Wibautstraat if there were another transit strike, to Centraal Station, and start my day at Central. Then wander through all the coffee shops I've learnt to appreciate from this forum: Utopia, de Kuil, Voyagers come to mind. On the way back to the station, I'd visit far better shops in de Pijp, like Katsu, de Graal and Club Media – again, because this forum has pointed me towards them. But I still treasure the wonderful serendipity of Mellow Yellow turning up when I thought my first smoke was a fairly long way away in both space and time, and can remember exactly how I felt as it turned out to be a very nice smoke indeed.

I'm sitting here smoking shiteweed, and can't set a date when I'll be back, but I know that I will.

[Sailor59]

Lovely. That's why I love one dayers/overnighters. My overnighter in December was similar to your planned one. Parked up at the Olympic Stadium and trammed into Centraal. Voyagers, Anyday, Paradox then down to De Pipj. Media then onto Yo-Yo where there was a birthday party of locals which we were swept up into. We weren't allowed to buy anything it was all being passed about. Back to t'Nes for a beer or two and a smoke. A quick meal and back to the hotel. Drove back in the morning. Knackered but very happy.

[toker31]

Good stuff, thanks for the report.

I really like the picture outside of Adolf Heijn.

Where is the picture with the white fluffy feline? Not the strung out junkie like lost one... lol.. I like your interpretation of dutch

[Smith2]

It's the most unflappable cat in Amsterdam at the Rusland. It was my ambition to get a picture every month last year, and I didn't quite do it, but I gave it my best shot: https://picasaweb.google.com/kurwamac/C ... 6PfprmBtAE

[toker31]

Wow man, rough life of a coffeeshop cat!

Great pictures, again

[Big C]

[quote="Sailor59"]Sometimes the day trips turn out to be epic. I've had a few.

Our American cousins would give a right bollock to be able to hop over the ditch for a one dayer when the mood takes.[/quote

Couldn't have said it better myself.

[Sky]

Very enjoyable report.
Every coffeeshop should have a kitty. They add a special warmth, welcome and love to the environment.