BOOM SHAKA LAKA LAY

We woke up on Friday feeling a bit negative. We would´ve slept in a little, but guess who was still snoring?

We got dressed as quickly as we could and headed to breakfast. Our hostel had a free breakfast, which is pretty rare. And it was actually decent. The only problem was the kitchen was blaring loud rock and roll music. I believe it was AC/DC´s ¨Highway to Hell¨ that was playing when I turned to Melissa and said, ¨How appropriate.¨
There´s also nothing like walking through a cloud of weed before breakfast either. Yuck.

Thank goodness the hostel had free WIFI. We got on facebook and found our other friends in Amsterdam, and we were just in time to meet them at the Van Gogh museum. Once we were walking around outside and reunited with familiar faces, we started feeling better about Amsterdam.

No pictures allowed in this museum (I was told after taking this one)


But I had to get a shot of the sunflowers for Lillie. She loves this painting. She even wore her sunflower earrings to the museum.


The Van Gogh museum was great...and as much as I liked his paintings, I didn´t develop the same affection for him as I had with Michelangelo and Dali. So at least now I know that I don´t just fall for any old famous artist. I am still trying to figure out what I liked about the other two... maybe it is that they were both kind of a smart ass. Not completely sure yet. Van Gogh´s first paintings were also a bit boring after a while...painting after painting of farm workers. And Starry Night is somewhere else.

Group picture in front of the I AMSTERDAM sign (minus the I)


Zoomed and cropped


Ok now just Melissa and I in the dam



More canals


More bikes


Fill in the blank. Italy is to Vespas as Amsterdam is to ____________.


Next, we went to a cafe. Cafes in Amsterdam offer more than coffee. I´ll let you guess what else they sell. We sat in the cafe for a while. I enjoyed a Coke while the others did legal things. Maybe you are not believing me. Maybe you are thinking, ¨Yeah right. You just don´t want to put it on your blog. Who goes to Amsterdam and doesn´t smoke?¨
Well, you now have your answer. Me. I´m a total square.


Multi-tasking dog

After that, the group dispersed. Some went to the Heineken brewery. Some went to markets. Melissa and I wanted to see a windmill. That morning, we had asked a guy at the hostel reception if there was a windmill we could go see, and we asked about a cheese factory.

Reception guy: ¨All people think Amsterdam is is windmills and cheese.¨
Melissa: ¨Well, no. We heard from two girls in our room that they went to both.¨
Jerk reception guy: ¨Oh. Well. I don´t know.¨

But some lady standing at the bar did, and she gave us directions to the windmill. So after separating from the group, we took a tram to the windmill (which we almost missed because we were looking out of the wrong side of the tram)
The windmill was next to a beer brewery. Perfection.

Brewery


WINDMILL!


It's a monster!!


Inside brewery


We ordered beers and sat for hours enjoying the beautiful weather and scenery. Amsterdam had improved. This day had been wonderful.

Gazing at windmill


Me and my 9% beer


Both


Oh and guess what else the brewery had, Mr. Jerk Reception Guy?
Special cheese.
So there.
And CLEARLY if ALL Amsterdam had was windmills, I wouldn't have to ask you how to find one. Jerk.


Melissa and I had decided we wanted to either take a canal ride or rent a bike. We voted against the bike since we weren't there long enough, and it didn't seem safe to ride and look at a map at the same time...and we referenced our map A LOT. So we left the windmill around sunset.

What's this? A suburban!?! Biggest vehicle I've seen in months (besides buses and planes)


AND TEXACO! Where am I!?


Beauty



Bikes upon bikes upon bikes



Sunset and canals







We found a one-hour, informational canal tour for 9 euros.


Laying on the cheese pretty thick here



It is beautiful along the canals at night with all the lights from the bridge and the apartments. Many apartment windows don´t have curtains... (better to see the whores) and it makes the streets look really pretty. Pictures from a moving boat suck. Here's the only decent one.


This would be for Anna Marsh. But...then again...she'd never eat it.


After you read how the rest of our night went, you will say we deserved it. That we are idiots. Melissa and I had already paid to stay at the hostel on Friday night. But after the first night, we decided the next morning that we just couldn't do it again. No, it wasn't the WORST thing ever. The bed was comfortable and clean. If it hadn't been for the snoring we would've probably slept fine. But it was musty and I didn't want to be there anymore. Didn't want to use the nasty bathrooms or have to change in them... And at this point in the trip (the WHOLE TRIP.. London, Barcelona included) I was OVER it. I wanted to be in Valencia in my bottom single bunk bed. If I could've gotten on a plane that night I would've. But that wasn't possible. Our solution: go to the airport and sleep there until our 10:00 a.m. flight. So, we boarded the airport train at 12:45.

Melissa so tired.


We changed clothes and ran into two of the other students we'd been with at Van Gogh. They (along with the other 5 or so kids) had not booked a hostel and had planned all along to just stay up all night on Friday. So we all found a corner in the airport to curl up and sleep. This was around 1:45.

3:45ish - the rest of the group joins us

20 or 30 minutes later we are abruptly awakened by CLAP CLAP CLAP CLAP.
A man is standing over us yelling, "THIS ISN'T A HOTEL. GO HOME."
I remember being so confused and thinking, "Is that clapping directed at us. No, he as a dog. Is he a airport worker. No I guess not." .... he did not have a dog. He was not a worker. Just some crazy and possibly drunk dude. He walked away and laid down about 12 feet away. THEN, another guy walks off the lift and 1st guy yells, "Somalia!"
Somalia lays down near the Clapper. They are quiet. We start to doze off.
Then, "BOOM SHAKA LAKA LAY" blasts through the airport from the Clapper.

Somalia proceeds to shout things like:
"This is my house"
"I invited you into my house."
"There is no discrimination in my nation that's part of my civilization and that's my explanation"
We determined Somalia was homeless.
After this, I remember Lillie turning to me and looking at me like, "Is this real?" And that is when I realized I had to take a picture. Because if there were no pictures, we would only be able to remember it as a dream....there's no way it could be real.


Top right corner was my spot. Backpack and doughnut as my pillow (I will never be able to thank Ann Marie Hall enough for that Xmas present) P-coat under me (but floor was still freezing) and my fleece as a blanket.





5:15 - Actual airport security, "Hello passengers...you need to wake up and go down stairs to the check-in counters. Everybody up."
What. Are they serious. What is happening. They wake the Clapper guy up. He is pissed. "This would never happened in England," he yells as he gets on the lift. Why aren't we in England.
They have a harder time getting Somalia up. We left before they were successful.

We go downstairs where we have to wait until 7:30 to check-in. We find chairs. Many of us lay back down behind and underneath the chairs.
6:00 ish - Airport security again, "Everyone in chairs. No laying on the floor after 5. Everyone in chairs." We weren't even allowed to sit on the floor. And he patrolled to make sure.

So we had an hour and a half to just sit. And sit. We could barely hold our heads up. I had found it. This was hell. At some point Melissa said, "I still think this was better than the hostel."
Me: "No. No ma'am. In no way is this BETTER. I will say none of this has made me wish we had stayed in the hostel (which was true)...but this still isn't BETTER. Just a different kind of terrible."

We checked in and STILL had an hour and a half before boarding. Melissa and I found a lounging area with reclined seats. I set my alarm for an hour and we slept.
Boarded the plane at 9:30 and landed in Valencia at noon.


Still trying to figure out the answer to the question, "Emily, how was Amsterdam?"