Amsterdam

My plane departed PDX on Wednesday at 1:30pm. The flight was a little over 9 hours, and extremely smooth. I wish i could have slept, but every time I was just about to drift off the flight attendants came around with more food. I think they try to feed you in accordance to whatever time the olane happens to be in, as opposed to a normal human appetite.

Amaterdam airport is enormous, and with incredibly rational and easy signage. When I finally got outside, the sky was a flat grey we Oregonians are deeply familiar with. Took a taxi in from the airport - all cities look the same on the outskirts. Everyone seems to drive as though they are in an incredible hurry, weaving in and out of traffic at breakneck speeds. I noticed the posted speed limits were 50 and 70, but then realized those must be kilometers. My cab driver was from Turkey, but we didn't talk much. It cost 45 euros, which is about right. 

Got to my hotel (Singel Hotel) at about 9am local time, way too early to check in, but I was able to drop off my luggage and wander.

The only thing I really had thought about before coming here is that I wanted to go to the Torture Museum and take an obligatory run through the red light district. I had looked at the map and oriented my hotel to the train station and to the museum, but it can be hard to gage actual walking time from map distances. So I headed along the canal in the direction of the torture museum to help me get a sense of how far apart things actually are.

Not far at all, as it turns out. The museum doesn't open until 10, so I wandered around for a while. I was trying to keep myself oriented to the canal, but that wasn't very effective since there are so many of them and the streets are all little and crooked. By later in the day I had hit opon orienting myself with the canal and the train tracks, and wasn't worried about getting lost any more. In the first ring, everything tends to spill you out in the main square anyway. 

Torture museum was fun - a lot of just terrible devices and old illustrations of them in use. It's housed within an appropriately creaky and convoluted building, although I'm realizing that all these old buildings are probably creaky and convoluted. 

Then I went and found a coffee shop on a little square and made use of the wifi to email my family, even though it was still the middle of the night in Portland. Had cappucino and watched the world go by. Noticed tht nobody tips anybody.

And it was only then that I realized that in all the hundreds of people I'd seen that morning, nobody was homeless or visibly mentally ill. Yes, some people are scruffier than others, but I hadn't seen anyone who looked like they were carrying everything they owned, hadn't seen anyone look into a public trash can, and hadn't seen anyone panhandling. In all this human bustle and traffic, homelessness was completely absent (later I did encounter some street musicians, but it's not really the same thing).

By then it was about 12:30, so I wound over.to the quiter side of the ring and found a cafe for lunch. Cute little place, very modern design, doors open to the street and to the canal. I was the only person in there. (Oh, and on my way, a light rain started to fall, and, like Portland, everyone just ignored it.) 

Lunch was just delicious; steak and avocado and spinach and feta cheese lightly dressed with some kind of vinaigrette, in a fresh warm bun. Thick-cut french fries (not crispy, really- more like potato wedges) with mayonaise. Of course, I also had a couple glasses of wine (I keep hoping alcohol will help me get to sleep and override my body clock - it's not helping much.) The cafe was run by an absolutely charming Chilean family, who bemoaned the grey weather and said it was beautiful here last week (not the first people to do this, when they find out I'm visiting for such a short time), and the son explained to me why all the buildings have hooks on them. 

While I was there, an old man pulled over his tiny sports car (Pugeot, maybe?), and washed it with a kitchen sponge and a saucepan full of water. And it's just a pleasure to watch the canals and listen to the birds. Maybe it's so quiet here, despite the huge numbers of people, because it's so actively car-unfriendly. Foot traffic and bike traffic and boat traffic have a whole different emotional impact.

Anyway, by then it was 2pm and I was all weird and tired from jetlag. Went to the hotel and checked in, and scored a triple room for the same price as my single because I requested smoking. The triple room is teeny, so now I'm curious about the size of the single. 

Took an interrupted but much-needed nap, and thereby missed (I mean, I saw/heard it, but was in bed) a rainstorm. Got up again at about 7pm and showered and went out again at a little before 9. 

Incidentally, my eyes have been hot and red and inflamed since I got off the plane. I was ascribing it to my contact lenses, but it seemed worse when I woke up here yesterday evening, and worse again when I woke up this morning. Shouldn't have started a whole new brand/prescription the day before I traveled, but these are supposed to be extra breathable or something. Unless I'm lightly allergic to something in these pillows or blankets? I hate it particularly because this is Amsterdam and everyone comes here to get high.

Weird. I just remembered that I also scoped out the train station and visited a beautiful cathedral yesterday, but now I can't think when that was.

Anyway, last night I struck out away from this ring in search of a different cathedral, whose spires I had seen from my hotel room. And that's a really charming neighborhood - it seems much less touristy, and more residential. But I circled back nonetheless, to the red light district, since that's what everyone will ask about. And yes, women in windows, and yes, people in cafes with bongs on the table. But it's like Bourbon street - the crowds are loud and oppressive and unfriendly. And I saw two police officers on bicycles - the only police presence I've seen here. 

So I circled back to a dive bar close to the hotel that I had noted earlier in the day, and had a glass of wine and watched the canal some more.

At the bar, the conversation slipped in and out of English, but I did overhear them talking about Burning Man "In America. In the middle of this huge fucking desert!"

And then I ended up having several glasses of wine with Michael and Kopi. Michael was very drunk, and wanted to tell me what he thinks of Barack Obama. They were charming and fun, and I'm incredibly grateful that everyone here speaks English. We wrapped up with hugs and handshakes at about 1am, and I came back to the hotel and crashed.

What did I say about trying to use alcohol to reset my clock and it not working very well? I woke up at 4:30 am, wide awake, eyes hot and red.

So I've been sitting here with the window open, listening to the birds and writing this blog post. Picures are on my phone, but I'm also putting a bunch of them on google+. At some point I'll edit photos into these posts.