Making sure that all time constraints were abided by, I set all alarm devices that had energy. Waking at the first sound of the first alarm, I went about turning off all noise making devices and reorganising bags accordingly. Breakfast was possibly a buffet style, hence I chose it and went about indulging in the products not too fatty, not too high in sugar concentration or not to carb friendly. The Japanese style of food was hence one of the higher visited areas (versus the Western/ American style), some good fish products.
Once again, “To my room please,” for my bill. With everything all sorted in my bags in my room I actually had ample time to play around with, so I went downstairs and sorted out my bill. My room was at a cost of 8000 Yen and the entire bill came to 10,500 Yen, where 1AUD is about 100 Yen. I was happy it was cheap relative to Japanese economy, but still wanted a bill a third of that.
The bus was another 20 minutes, so I slept in the lobby until then. At the airport, all was smooth, with the lady giving me a bit extra paperwork then I felt was necessary to go just to Amsterdam. We did have a few complications with the difference in language skills, once again, but all seemed OK. I say that because she had asked me if I wanted to have the ticket Amsterdam-Accra and I said “I will be fine to get the Accra leg later.” It is at this point I should have looked at the documents and not just stuff them somewhere. Well, both the waiting and the flight to Schiphol Airport, in the Netherlands, was about as good as watching grass grow. Too much TV was watched (300, Land of Women, Blades of Glory, 3 minute man).
Everything was smooth sailing at the airport, with the only sign of customs being the stamp used in my passport (I had walked through the nothing to declare station). In the public walking area I managed to find a Euro ATM and get enough for the 20 hours in the country. The guy at the information desk was able to speak a number of languages, and all with a strange sense of humour about it (knew this because of the facial expressions of people who spoke the different languages, French, German, English). Saying that I was impressed with his light hearted approach to his job and asking how to get change, he directed me to a specific person at the ticket booth machines who would give it to me. To buy a ticket from a person costs an extra 0.50 Euro, and I want budget. So I got the shrapnel of Euro coins and went about purchasing a ticket to Amsterdam. The trip showed an array of sights, majority non too exciting until getting into the more built up areas.
Getting off at Amsterdam Centraal, I wandered out to the streets and referred to my bible of Europe; ‘Europe on a shoestring’ (EOAS) should prove a worthy buy. It was able to get me slowly located towards the first hostel via the view of architectural history, canals and bicycles. This place was a prebook place, but it seemed the most economic hostel. The second was nearby, and proved successful. I was impressed at the 21 Euro price including brekky, but not as much so with the pot smoking in the lobby. Ahh, small sacrifices. So, after paying for my room, I was informed my room was a block away from reception. Dumping everything, and getting cleaned up from so many hours of flying, I made it back to the lobby and got my water, Heineken and soup (with 3 slices of bread) costing me, respectively, 1.30, 1.20 and 1 Euro.
While near the end of my mini dining, the girl next to me (Martine) began chatting to me. After chatting for a short while we ended up venturing around the city of Amsterdam a bit. The guy I had also been talking to was Brian and he was totally toked up. On the streets of Amsterdam, Martine was trying to find the food joint ‘Wok to Walk.’ The immediate failure was quickly remedied by the purchase of some hot chips that could be doused in up to 15 kinds of sauces, where I may have had some kind of chili flavoured topping. On teaching holidays, Martine had come over from LA, USA to enjoy 8 weeks of Europe and here was the closure of her trip. Funny isn’t it, one person ends their story right where one person pretty much begins theirs, we had little involved with each other and will never see each other again, oh well.
While on our walk several things were brought to my attention, the most obvious one was when we were walking through the Red Light District, and the second as obvious attention grabber being the ladies in the windows. The other thing, that Martine asked me about, was the national monument and what I thought it was. Unfortunately I said the first thing that came to my mind (male appendage) and the funny thing was the number of people who had also said the same thing.
Heading back to the hostel, we managed to stumble across ‘Wok to Walk,’ to which Martine’s efforts now seemed so worth it. She ordered her food, we went back to the hostel and chilled back, with Brian and some other guy being additions to our table. While we were all talking to each other, I closed my eyes and suddenly was being tapped. Martine was telling me to get to bed as I’d been asleep for the past 10 minutes. Well, I did exactly that.
It was 10pm and the sun had just settled, with the colours in the sky showing that there was still some effects, from the sun, still in play. Climbing the steep stairs to my dorm, and tripping a number of occasions, I finally got to the room and stumbled in. A French guy and girl were talking to each other, we said g’day to each other and I feel to bed. While lying there in ignorant bliss of the soon to be partying world just out of my window, the sudden essence of smoke teased my nose. Looking up some dude was smoking in the non smoking rooms, I was too buggered to say anything. After he had finished I closed my eyes. Suddenly the smell strengthened, I opened my eyes to see the French guy now smoking… what the hell!
He made more of an effort to blow out the window and also hang out the window, but still that is a 250 Euro fine.
