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 Posted March 13th, 2010 at 12:20PM
This is an account of my weekend trip to the Netherlands the last available weekend during my semester abroad in Freiburg, Germany, fall semester of 2005. I’m able to piece together that it was December 9th through the 12th, although additional details beyond that get hazy. This is the second part. Here’s the first part. Note that no admission of guilt or wrongdoing in any territory should be taken as stated or implied!
The first indication that I had truly arrived was the moment I stepped outside of Schiphol, Amsterdam’s international airport, where a fragrant scent permeated the evening air, which I could only credit to travelers (flight stewards? Pilots?) smoking up their remaining wares before boarding their planes. I remember thinking that I could really get behind the kind of societal ethos permissive of this! I ducked back into the airport to figure out which rail line would lead me to Centraal Station, where I’d then be in the heart of the city and within walking distance of practically everything.
Schiphol turns out to be 20 minutes southwest of Amsterdam (unbeknownst to me at the time) so while I initially determined the correct rail line to board, I turned antsy after riding for a short while. An interminable period of time later, I decided to depart and hoof it at what appeared to be a populated station – an erroneous decision. I found myself in a generically industrial outlier to Amsterdam late in the day, with only a sense of where the train tracks led (and an illuminated sky in that direction). There was no human activity on the streets and little traffic as I set out in the general direction. I ended up in an industrial cul-de-sac, and with no better options, turned back to the train and re-boarded after spending maybe an hour traipsing along a strange part of town. But whatever apocalyptic factory land that it is I sampled, it wasn’t particularly threatening (dawdling through parts of Budapest or Bratislava alone at night were more questionable moves). My ticket wasn’t re-checked and I arrived at Centraal, no harm no foul.
My hostel was situated in the heart of de Wallen, and while I can’t remember the name, I can still narrow down the location to a few square blocks on a city map. My prior hostel experience in Dublin turned rather negative, but I was doing Europe on the cheap and it doesn’t get any cheaper than a bed for 10 euro or so a night. This hostel shared headquarters with a hazy coffeeshop, filled with muted travelers. My room turned out to be a block down in a different building (adjacent a second shop). Fortuitously I only had to share the room with one other boarder, and only the last night I spent there – he was a cheerful sort, immobile the one time I met him, laying flat on his cot in the middle of the day.
While making preparations for the trip, I had researched a variety of attractions. Among them were the Het KattenKabinet, a museum populated entirely with cat memorabilia; Stedelijk and Van Gogh museums, modern art and Van Gogh, respectively; and Vondelpark, the purported “central park” of Amsterdam.
Albert-Cuypstraat Market, a pedestrian open air market, was also on the itinerary as an enjoyable way to spend some time. And heck, time allowing, Anne Frank might have gotten a visit too. But with a base of operations established and bearings properly adjusted, I began with my customary touristing method – of arbitrarily wandering the streets. In this fashion, I had found a picture-perfect square in Bratislava where I took up a park bench for hours, and listened as an orchestra played from an adjacent building, watching humanity stroll past, and puffing on my (tobacco) pipe – a satisfying way to end the evening and absorb the local atmosphere at no cost.
As expected, Amsterdam proved to be an excellent locale for this type of sightseeing, particularly because of its beauty, architecture, sights… and coffeeshops.
Saturday morning came and I began to wander, aided by good food and any number of coffeeshop, both of the earmarked and conveniently encountered variety. Five years later, in no particular order, I can recall making it to Dampkring – whose design is straight out of a Tolkien novel and where a scene of Oceans Twelve was shot; Kadinsky – more of a chain, which I surely patronized, along with the various ‘Bulldog’ locations; and Katsu – which I remember as a welcomed sight after traveling down to Albert-Cuypstraat Market only to find everything closed: either wrong day or wrong season I am unsure.
I also remember visiting the shop owned and operated by two American expats, and also the place renowned not only for good pot, but good breakfast. And it was.
Strolling along the canal-ways, taking discrete tokes, I walked by the house turned Anne Frank museum. I also took in Amsterdam’s famed flower markets, hocking not flowers this season but arborvitaes – row upon row of perfectly pruned trees, for sale to locals gearing up for the holiday season.
And my eyes were opened by the Netherland’s methodology concerning prostitution. Regulations as they exist are left to local jurisdictions, and there are no such constraints state-wide as there are in Nevada, for comparison’s sake, regarding condom use, STD testing, or zoning. (I claim no authority on this topic in either instance, I could stand incorrect today.) Yet it’s still a functional system, again seemingly better responding to a demand unconstrained by government proscription.
The infamous ‘red lights’ are found throughout de Wallen, clustered in small groups, visible from far down the block, all the better for the morally presumptuous to avoid. They herald small glass cubicles: inside black light-lit, freely advertised, diverse women on display. The cubicles are rented, include security (I don’t want to say surveillance per se, but of some sort to ensure safety), and the whole practice normalized as just another occupation.
With such a laissez-faire attitude concerning prostitution and drug use, it may come as no surprise that the people could not have been more open, friendly, and hospitable (and no, I’m not just talking about the ones paid to be). Whereas France and Switzerland get bad raps from foreigners, the Netherlands seemed as congenial as eastern Europe, on the upswing after decades behind the iron curtain. The food, as promised by previous visitors, was uniformly good. The public transportation, light years ahead of anything I’ve encountered stateside. So to, was the marijuana.
My trip was conveniently scheduled in this respect, as I arrived following the annual Cannabis Cup. My research afterward found some druggies put out when they arrived in the weeks leading up to the event, and certain eye-popping strains taken off the menus in the interest of saving some for the awards. Visiting afterward ensures that everything still in stock will be made available, and also avoids the bulk of tourists hellbent on similar intentions. (When I went to New Orleans in 2003, it was the week before Mardi Gras got under way in earnest, and I felt the same then. No matter if you’ve actually come for the same reason as all the other people – they’ll act like asshats en mass and it’s best to avoid.)
(In determining plans for the weekend, I had consulted the Amsterdam Coffeeshop Directory. I notice that it might not be as well updated now as then, and perhaps there are better resources out there today.)
I left on Monday having had my fill, a positive hangover to bode me through finals week. That Friday I was off for my flight, back to the states. My experiences abroad brought home the fact that people are basically the same no matter where you go. And similarly so are the places. Paraphrasing h. h. the Dalai Lama, “No matter how powerful our sensory experiences might be, they cannot overwhelm our state of mind; mental experience is superior to physical.”
Posted February 10th, 2010 at 2:36PM
This is an account of my weekend trip to the Netherlands the last available weekend during my semester abroad in Freiburg, Germany, fall semester of 2005. I’m able to piece together that it was December 9th through the 12th, although additional details beyond that get hazy. The retelling got long so it’s split into two parts. Here’s the second part. Note that no admission of guilt or wrongdoing in any territory should be taken as stated or implied!
It was the middle of December 2005 and I was wrapping up my time abroad in Freiburg, Germany. The following week was final exams, and I would be on a Lufthansa flight bound for the States immediately thereafter. I felt all of the tumultuous, conflicting emotions of a student whose time abroad was drawing to a close. There was relief of some end in sight, being able to see friends and family, and the simple joy of understanding the errant stranger that might ask what time it was. There was trepidation over leaving the former French barracks and surrounding neighborhood that I came to know as home, and the several dozen other exchange students in the program that I had, with varying degrees, grown fond of. I had emerged unscathed from the supposedly unadulterated ‘anti-Americanism’ of a Europe still reeling from Dubya – even given the thumbs up on a train by a Turkish immigrant after revealing my nationality. I had my regrets, but they were mostly of the ‘opportunities missed’ variety.
The study abroad program I entered – IES‘s European Union program – nearly finished my Politics degree and included a host of program-sponsored travel throughout Europe, concentrating on EU seats of power and influence. We traveled in groups throughout Europe from west (France, Germany, Switzerland, Belgium, Luxembourg) to east (Hungary, Slovakia, the Czech Republic, Estonia). In addition, I had spent a free weekend in Dublin, leaving with the pukey smell of the Guinness factory clogging my nostrils and some disorderly Irish kid’s piss soaking my shoes. By the end of the program, my wanderlust was all but sated. There was a single item left on the proverbial bucket list for my then 21-year-old self, and that was to experience Amsterdam.
Now, one fortuitous result of the European Union has been the slackening of borders, to the extent where travel of persons and goods throughout the Union is practically unfettered by traditional political boundaries. Because of this, and because of some particularly enterprising fellow students who had taken a train northward earlier in the semester, I was already familiar with the exceptional products coming from the Netherlands’ coffeeshops and smartshops. In quick summation for those not aware, the Netherlands has had for decades the clear-thinking drug policy of decriminalizing natural substances you might find whilst walking in the woods (or desert, as the case may be). Any free adult is able to walk into a coffeeshop and purchase small amounts of marijuana, or the equivalent smartshop designated for psilocybin mushrooms, hallucinogenic cacti, or any of the numerous other specimen that might alter perceptions and which the Christian god purportedly gave man dominion over.
Being one not shackled to puritanical ideals of consciousness, I felt a strong obligation to blow some legal weed while giving the DEA the figurative middle finger. (The legality of so-called ‘soft’ drugs in Germany is a murkier area, much like the rest of Europe.) Sure, I had some other things planned for my trip to the Netherlands, but then I’d already read Anne Frank’s diary and heard of the unfortunate incident involving Van Gogh’s ear, so there were certain priorities above and beyond the museums and canals.
I booked a flight via one of the budget airlines and looked forward to the Amsterdam experience, still temperate mid-December. I would be missing the legendary flower markets, but giddily I could already imagine the picturesque canals snaking through the oldest de Wallen district of the city, the friendly prostitutes soliciting from their black-light-lit rented cubicles, and the now ubiquitous coffeeshops peppering the landscape.
This trip, however, was almost not to be. My status as rookie globe-trotter glaringly revealed itself after I mistakingly left my passport on top my bureau. I discovered this fact just short of arrival at Frankfurt airport, a two hour-odd train ride, and despite the sincerest regrets of airport staff, I had nowhere to turn but back. So back I went, arriving in Freiburg late at night, playing the dejected fool.
“Soul-crushing” would be proximately the correct term, but after weighing the pros and cons, phoning my parents for solace, and in consideration of the dirt-cheap cost of the original ticket and the (slim) likelihood of getting another chance to go, I booked a one way flight the next day and fervently held onto the passport. It was going to happen. I phoned the hostel where I would be staying and told them I’d be a day late. Even factoring in two tickets to Amsterdam, the cost of flying was ridiculously low, to the point where it doesn’t even make sense for an airline to fuel the damn planes. But they did, and so I went.
Posted April 9th, 2007 at 11:09AM
I was doing some reading on green building today, for a profile I’ll be doing on an alumnus for the IC alumni magazine (now ICView, formerly the IC Quarterly). I read through all of the material on the guy’s site, did some googling, and then hit up Wikipedia for more on the basics. Well, what did I stumble on but several references to Freiburg, in the Germany section of a wiki page. It mentions the “Solarsiedlung” which sounded vaguely familiar, and then Vauban, which is where I actually lived during my semester abroad in the fall of 2005.
I’m not sure if I ever actually blogged about it, but Vauban was a French barrack until 1992, when it was turned into housing. 16 of the 20 units are for students of Albert-Ludwigs-Universität. The remaining four were expropriated by.. well, squatters basically. The entire complex is quite green and sustainable: portions using greywater, passive and active solar power, and all of the related tricks.
Regardless, I followed links till I happened upon pictures of Vauban. And, believe it or not, I sort of miss that place. Vauban, Freiburg, and Germany were certainly pretty interesting. I wish I did more while I was there.
Vauban, Freiburg entry at Wikipedia
Some info in English
Photos of Vauban (Click on the street names (the long ugly German words mostly ending in “Straße” at the end of the page)). And here’s where I lived! This site is great.
EDIT: Looking over my Germany category, you know another thing I miss? Glühwein. Ach!
Posted January 15th, 2006 at 11:56PM
At long last — the last in the western europe trip series. The “Germany” category on this blog is quickly coming to its end. Expect a post or two about Amsterdam, and maybe a few retrospectives about my time in Europe, and that’s it. I liked blogging about my study abroad experience, but now feel like I could have done a much better job. And I wish it wasn’t dragging out like this, months after the fact. 
Franktfurt
Paris
Brussels
Luxembourg
Luxembourg reminded me strongly of the last leg of the Eastern Europe trip — Estonia. Both Luxembourg City and Tallinn were remarkably small capitals, cold, with small populations and no real night life. Well, Tallinn probably had a better nightlife than Luxembourg City.
Anyways, unlike the previous posts, I can’t give a day by day write-up for Luxembourg. I left the itinerary for the trip at home, and can’t really remember what we did, exactly. This is probably for the best, since the other posts were a bit too methodical, dwelling on time frames instead of actual experiences.
Also probably for the best — We only spent one night in Luxembourg. We arrived Thursday, November 10th. To my recollection, it was already dark out when we arrived at our hotel. This hotel was very funny. It was on the outskirts of a small pedestrian shopping area. The rooms were small (stereotypical European hotel small), the building itself was very tiny, and while they offered a continental breakfast, they had no dining area to speak of. This meant that the night before, each lodger had to go to the front desk, and tell them what he wanted for breakfast (the only choice was between beverages) and when. Then, the next morning at the allotted time (for us; for some their breakfasts arrived late, or not at all), you opened your door and there was your breakfast, sitting at the doorstep. Free room service.
This night in Luxembourg, me and the roommate set out to find a late-night snack, and perhaps a bit to drink. It was hard to find either.
It was only about ten or eleven, but nearly everything was closed. A few token restaurants remained open, and we finally ate at some random Italian place. There were also a handful of bars, but nothing too inviting. There were other comparisons to be made with Estonia. The time we spent in Luxembourg, it was pretty cold, with a nice wind whipping about. That late in the year, it got dark early in Luxembourg (similar to Tallinn, where — compared to what I’m used to — it gets dark early pretty much year round). And there was hardly anyone walking around. Ever. But especially at night, this was true.
The day after, we had a lecture or two, to justify spending time in Luxembourg. There was a city tour, but I ducked out, intent to find some grub. We went to a Chinese buffet (all you can eat, in Europe — odd, no?) and were disappointed when we found out that nearly everything had meat in it. A lot of seafood, shrimp even in the rice. Ah well.
Sometime midday, on Friday, November 11th, we set back for Freiburg. I forget how long the drive was, somewhere between four and five hours would be my guess. We got back late, but a lot of us were glad to be back. This trip was expensive, and while we didn’t have the busy schedules that we had in eastern Europe, it had been a draining experience (a lot of time spent just traveling?). Combine all of this with the fact that a week or so after we got back, all of our term papers were due, and you’ve got a generally so-so tour of western Europe. Still, I can finally say I’ve been there.
Posted January 12th, 2006 at 2:44AM
Franktfurt
Paris
Brussels
Luxembourg
I had a better time in Brussels than I did in Paris. True story.
We arrived in Brussels around 8:15pm, on Monday, November 7th (how long it’s taken me to finally get around to this). The hotel in Brussels was fine, I remember little about it. I do remember we did have trouble finding it however. It was right next to a church, and every morning, at six or seven, the church bell would begin ringing — a deafening sound in our room, waking us up. It was apparently rung by hand, since it was uneven, and even worse was the fact that it seemed to ring until whoever was in charge got tired. The first morning in Brussels, it had to of went on for five minutes!
I was only rooming with one guy in Brussels, and he was a cooler head than my previous roommates in Paris. That Monday night I was feeling a bit better than I did in Paris, so I went out and walked around. Nothing memorable, the hotel was in a tiny Asian section of town, so I ate some Chinese, bought a bottle of wine, and headed back to the room. We watched TV, called it an early night.
The next day was Tuesday, November 8th. We had to wake up early, for meetings at NATO headquarters. We had three meetings here, and two of them were actually excellent. The first was informative, who presented a lot of valuable info (he was “an American, but representing NATO, not America”). And the third turned out to be a fairly conservative diplomat (“representing America”). He was fairly provocative — the first speaker left his personal opinion out of it, whereas the third’s presentation was full of it. There were three or four Germans in the room, and he ruffled their feathers quite a bit. But the guy made me want to come back, take the Civil Service Exam, and work for the government. He was smooth.
This was one occasion where a sort of cultural difference appeared, which was interesting to watch. While the American students were relieved to meet someone who wasn’t full of officious bullshit, the Germans in the room were offended with his casual, opinion-laden style of presentation. The two different groups had hugely different reactions to this guy. It’s possible that the age difference came into play — although one of the Germans was one of our teacher assistants, who was in his mid-twenties. I mark it up to cultural differences — the sort of difference that makes “outsider politicians” like Bush winners in the US, while career politicians like Schroeder and Merkel earn Germany’s top spot.
After spending awhile at NATO, and having an hour lunch break, we traveled to the US-EU Mission. And these two meetings were a complete waste of time. The first women treated us like preschoolers — I felt dumber after leaving the room. While the second person, who was soon about to be transferred to the diplomatic mission to Kazakhstan (or some other backward -stan country (big freaking deal)), kept the self-important attitude of the US diplomat at NATO — without any of the charm, intelligence, or information of the former.
After this, we departed for a city tour of downtown Brussels. The tour was pretty good; the guide was nice and informative, although she recommended a really crappy restaurant that a friend and I tried and were totally disappointed with. We got a nice historical overview, and an explanation of all of the official buildings. Brussels is a city of bureaucrats — and that’s not said in any sort of disapproving manner. Brussels is the center for three or four governments and major organizations (Belgium being a heavily-federalized country, I believe both the national and state governments are housed in Brussels).
I can’t really remember what I did this night, since it’s been such a long time (damn it, half of the reason of blogging all of this was so I’d have a place it was all written down). I believe I just walked around downtown Brussels a bit with the roommate. We bought a bottle of wine, and sat on a park bench drinking. We had dinner somewhere that was unsatisfying (I swear, I didn’t have a single decent meal on this entire trip) and probably called it a fairly early night.
Wednesday, November 9th, we had a light program at the European Commission. I can’t remember anything remarkable about these lectures, so I imagine they were just marginal. Originally, we were suppose to have a meeting with Greenpeace, to see how an NGO interacts with the EU. But those plans apparently fell through, and we didn’t get to go. One I was actually looking forward to too.
This night I do remember, because it was sort of a let-down. In the morning, I checked the cellphone, and found a message from someone — alerting me about a nearby bar which had one Euro pints. Damn, we missed out. But a lot of people were going back again, so after doing the requisite wandering around trying to find food with my roommate (he was one of the other few vegetarians in our group, so that problem was shared), we headed to the place. It was sort of early, nine or ten I think, and we only caught a few people that we knew there. After a few drinks, we split. Later on, I heard about another couple of friends who showed up later, and had an absolutely crazy night in Brussels. If only we had stayed a bit longer.
Thursday, November 10th was our last day in Brussels. We met with the Council of the European Union early. Another unmemorable time. A lunch break, then we met with a representative of the European Anti-Poverty Network. This meeting was really bad. Absolutely nothing remotely interesting or informative. We left Brussels and headed towards the last leg of our journey, Luxembourg, at about five in the afternoon. Brussels was actually quite a nice city, and I would have loved to explore further. Maybe I’ll get another chance someday. Pff.
Posted December 19th, 2005 at 11:19AM
Just a quick note to say that I’m back in the US. I still need to write about a bunch of things, mainly Brussels and Amsterdam. And probably a holistic look back at the semester abroad. But for now, I’m not going to be too active, since I’m home, on dial-up, and have better stuff to do.
Posted December 14th, 2005 at 9:04AM
It was a long time coming, but I need to quickly wrap up the second big field trip. Over a month after it happened.. *cough*
Franktfurt
Paris
Brussels
Luxembourg
We got into Paris on November 4th. It was a Friday, and we arrived at about eight in the evening. The hotel was alright, although the elevator was broken and I was in a triple. This night we set out to see some sights. I was not feeling all that great, and after eating at a crappy Chinese restaurant, and seeing the Eiffel Tour lit up, I walked back alone. Paris was a bit intimidating at night – moreso than any of the eastern European cities.
But Paris’ subway system is amazing. I used it every day, and it was pretty easy to use / understand. Very nice.
Saturday, the 5th, we had completely free. I did all of the typical tourist things – Eiffel Tour, the miniature Statue of Liberty, the Arc D’Triumph, Notre Dame, and half a dozen other attractions. A lot of walking. And I still felt bad.
Sunday we also had free, except for a formal dinner in the evening (expenses paid, naturally). I visited the Louvre, and had the amazing luck to get in free (first Sunday of every month). The place was packed, but I saw some art. Mona Lisa. Woo. (I guess?)
The formal dinner was pretty bad, since the other vegetarian and I had to request “special” dinners, which meant crappy leftovers of the sides of everyone else. I’ll say it right now – French cuisine is bad, and overpriced to boot.
Sunday night I walked around the neighborhood around our hotel (NE of the city center area). It was sorta ethnic, sorta funky. A little creepy. Found a used clothing store, bought some pants and a couple shirts.
On Monday the 7th, we had two lectures, which were quite good. One dealt with the French rejection of the European Constitution, and the future of European integration, while the other was a meeting with a group from the EU Institute for Security Studies. The focus was on EU Common Foreign and Security Policy, and it was quite enlightening.
At about three thirty, we departed Paris for Brussels, and I was glad. The weather in Paris was bad, alternatively overcast with occasional rainshowers. I felt terrible the entire time, having some sort of stomach bug, or, more likely, just as a result of a terrible diet on the trip (vegetarian options in Paris are scarcer than any other place I’ve been. Only options were Italian, which I soon grew tired of). And Paris was just generally.. “EH”. The tourist attractions were alright – the Eiffel Tour and Arc D’Triumph being particularly impressive – but the general atmosphere sucked.
I had very low expectations for Paris, since it is such the typical tourist spot. Generally, I think it was probably better than I was expecting. But it still wasn’t all that much fun.
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