Day 2: What...Is This Place?

Kirk and I woke up around four, mostly by accident. We stopped by a 24 hour 7-11 type place for food. The British really like a sandwich. There's about 40 different kinds all premade and packaged, cheap and mildly filling. Now, if you know anything about me, you know how happy I was made by this. I also made another interesting discovery: Cordial is not the brit way to say "juice," but is instead the bri way of saying "very thick syrup juice concentrate". I discovered this after taking a large swig of my Rasberry Cordial. It didn't mix with the falafel sandwich very well. Kirk passed out as soon as we got on the bus, so I busied myself with more Beatles and watched London go by. Our tour guide, MJ, introduced herself and talked for a bit while I stared at the countryside. I still don't understand how a tiny little island like that can have so many people and still have miles of rolling fields. We made it to the cliffs of Dover, which we would take the ferry over to France. I immediately put on The Decemberists "We Both Go Down Together" and gazed at the Cliffs of Dover, which are indeed so high you can't see over. After we arrived at the hotel outside Amsterdam, unpacked, and ate, then got back on the bus for a 20 minute ride into the city. Most of the group went on a canal cruise while Kirk and I wandered the streets. It is a beautiful city, clean and ornate, 17th century architecture and tall narrow buildings make it feel like San Franciso's cool older cousin. Kirk headed home, still jetlagged, while Bharvin, a indian South African student and I proceeded to indulge in a coffeeshop called The Grasshopper, which would have been fun had I known how to better roll a joint. Regardless, the White Widow, which is a Holland indoor I believe, was so strong that one joint later Bharvin and I were fast friends, marveling at just how otherworldly the Redlight district can be. Especially when you're really, really stoned. Bharvin, not I, wanted to peruse the women of the night, and although I would have been just as happy having another joint at another shop, I'm glad we did. The redlight district and coffee shops are a smoker's paradise--food from every corner of the globe, sex shops, head shops, graffiti, and beautiful women who will have sex with you (for fifty euros). Also, if we hadn't, it's likely we would have had no idea how to take the metro station to the free shuttle to the hotel, because we followed some other people from the tour (who had just got out of a live sex show) back to the hotel, where we fell fitfully asleep for about 4 hours before we had to wake up for breakfast.