travel!
So, I went to Amsterdam with mom! And Scoop and her daughter Caitlin. It took us about 20 hours to get here, including a train ride and some tram-hopping. Only 8 of those hours were actually spent in the air, the rest was unfortunately timed tickets. We're staying for 7 days (the first day was spent in a haze of jet lag), and I feel like writing so I will record all things of interest! Most things of interest. Some things of interest until I get bored of recording, how's that.
After having slept for 12 hours to get rid of that pesky jet lag (the last five hours were spent sleep-defending dad's house from a monster attack, fighting off zombies and witches and vampires and naked nurses), we got up to begin the tourist dance that Scoop and Caitlin have had a few days already to get down to an art. First on the list was the flea market.
Hats: they are expensive! Well, not terribly, not as much as stockings. Mom explained to me that although it was 7.95, I could barter with the guy and tell him I only had 5. I'm a little under confident when it comes to these sorts of things, so we spend about a minute whispering back and forth in the (empty) stockings tent, before I finally get mom to go do it while I look on.
"How much is this?"
"7.95."
"What about 5?"
"No, 7.95."
"Oh, that's too much."
"Alright. Goodbye."
So… that was a fine lesson in bartering. I suppose it didn't really help that our furtive discussion about how to give this man less of his money was held about 4 feet away from him. But I still got a totally sweet hoodie from another tent, so I'll call it a successful shopping venture.
Next up was the Red Light district! I was thrilled to learn that prostitution is legal in Holland, because that's yet another option for paying off all those student loans I'm earning. It looks like a very interesting job, really! You stroll along the right alleys, and there are clear glass doors with sexy, bikini-wearing ladies standing behind them and smiling. Apparently they snatch you up if you make eye contact, so I allowed myself only furtive glances. One of these ladies was very sexily texting, striking a pose and holding a text-based conversation at the same time. Very alluring.
Somewhere along these alleys we ran into quite the tour group. Two of the men were wearing fake mustaches, and one of them was dressed up in a cute little Swedish shepherd girl outfit, complete with a blond yarn wig done in thick braids. As we passed them, one of them called out, "So, is anyone going to have any more weed?" We ended up seeing that group twice more, and the last time Heidi called out with the most charming of smiles, "It's okay, you can look!" To which mom, never one to pass up a charitable offer, cheerfully replied, "Thanks!"
After that it was the Anne Frank museum, which was entirely constructed of sad stories and lethally steep stairwells.
And now it's raining again. This seems to be the part of the world that matches Portland weather cloud-for-cloud, but I don't mind. I might start thinking I'd gone to a different country or something if everything was too different.
After having slept for 12 hours to get rid of that pesky jet lag (the last five hours were spent sleep-defending dad's house from a monster attack, fighting off zombies and witches and vampires and naked nurses), we got up to begin the tourist dance that Scoop and Caitlin have had a few days already to get down to an art. First on the list was the flea market.
Hats: they are expensive! Well, not terribly, not as much as stockings. Mom explained to me that although it was 7.95, I could barter with the guy and tell him I only had 5. I'm a little under confident when it comes to these sorts of things, so we spend about a minute whispering back and forth in the (empty) stockings tent, before I finally get mom to go do it while I look on.
"How much is this?"
"7.95."
"What about 5?"
"No, 7.95."
"Oh, that's too much."
"Alright. Goodbye."
So… that was a fine lesson in bartering. I suppose it didn't really help that our furtive discussion about how to give this man less of his money was held about 4 feet away from him. But I still got a totally sweet hoodie from another tent, so I'll call it a successful shopping venture.
Next up was the Red Light district! I was thrilled to learn that prostitution is legal in Holland, because that's yet another option for paying off all those student loans I'm earning. It looks like a very interesting job, really! You stroll along the right alleys, and there are clear glass doors with sexy, bikini-wearing ladies standing behind them and smiling. Apparently they snatch you up if you make eye contact, so I allowed myself only furtive glances. One of these ladies was very sexily texting, striking a pose and holding a text-based conversation at the same time. Very alluring.
Somewhere along these alleys we ran into quite the tour group. Two of the men were wearing fake mustaches, and one of them was dressed up in a cute little Swedish shepherd girl outfit, complete with a blond yarn wig done in thick braids. As we passed them, one of them called out, "So, is anyone going to have any more weed?" We ended up seeing that group twice more, and the last time Heidi called out with the most charming of smiles, "It's okay, you can look!" To which mom, never one to pass up a charitable offer, cheerfully replied, "Thanks!"
After that it was the Anne Frank museum, which was entirely constructed of sad stories and lethally steep stairwells.
And now it's raining again. This seems to be the part of the world that matches Portland weather cloud-for-cloud, but I don't mind. I might start thinking I'd gone to a different country or something if everything was too different.