A Weekend in Amsterdam | Amsterdam Travel Guide
When I try and recall my adventures in Amsterdam, I'll admit my memory is a little hazy. In fact, the day I left, I wrote in my journal asking myself if I would remember the city after I had left - does Amsterdam even exist at all, but in the dreams of travellers such as myself?
I do remember as I wandered into the city from the bus stop, I found myself in an expansive and beautiful dog park. There were pooches of all shapes and sizes running around happily, ears and tails wagging. It was a sight to behold. I was then hit with the smell of dope, and so I believe it was about then that I found out everything I had heard about Amsterdam was true - the city is completely mad and free and wonderful.
My hostel was right next to the infamous Red Light District, although I didn't know this at the time. As I walked warily down the winding cobblestone streets, lined with tall spindly buildings, pot smoke billowed out storefront windows. Everywhere next to every coffeeshop was an eatery or dairy selling glazed doughnuts and hot waffles, their neon signs glowing wantonly in the early evening air as crowds of glassy-eyed tourists stumbled inside. I settled in a sweet shop and inhaled a huge meringue and cherry coke, watching the locals zoom outside past the canal on their old-fashioned bicycles.
That night I met up with a friend I had made in Slovenia - a fellow backpacker like myself. Two Italians and a strange little Romanian man from my hostel tagged along. We ended up at The Bluebird Coffeeshop, which first opened in 1982. Although by now I considered myself a seasoned traveller, I was still wary of going into The Red Light District alone. My Australian friend had been to Amsterdam before and was more than happy to show me around. In retrospect I needn't have been afraid - what was once a community considered by outsiders to be filthy and depraved is now embraced by many with open arms, not only as a normal part of the city but also as a draw for tourists. The crowds of curious onlookers rivalled the masses I had seen at The Louvre.
The Red Light District in Amsterdam was bizarre. I am first and foremost a Feminist, and had little problem with the women themselves; it was the way in which passing tourists were looking that I had a problem. Back home, I have friends working in the sex industry - they are often chastised for their source of income, not the people who seek out their company. As to be expected, the discrimination I witnessed in Amsterdam was worse.
If you don't know, the Red Light District in Amsterdam is an area where those working in the sex industry sell their wares. There are windows, glowing like fire with red light, where the women stand on display. If one takes your fancy, you simply walk up, knock on the window which doubles as a door, and ask for a price. The curtain is then drawn to signify a business transaction is taking place, and to give both the employee and the customer some privacy. There is also a lesser-known Blue District where individuals who identify as LGBTQ+ work, and of course there’s the live sex shows - I don't feel like I need to explain this one.
My main issue with the Red Light District was the onlookers - mainly men - looking at the women like animals in a zoo or a particularly appealing muffin in a bakery shop window. Not only that, but they banged on the windows, pulled faces and yelled at the women, laughing amongst themselves. Some were even patting one other on the back and egging each other on. The total lack of respect disgusted me, but like the women behind the glass, as well as many of the other female travellers I had seen scattered around the neighbourhood, I stayed silent. That's not to say all the men I saw that night were behaving in this way, but there were enough acting out that I noticed.
On top of everything I witnessed, one particular building stood out to me - a church. Smack bang in the middle of the Red Light District, a so-called symbol of depravation and sin, was a place of worship - bells ringing on the hour every hour. Later when I recalled all of this over the phone to my Mum, she snorted.
Welcome to Europe
The next day I headed straight for the Rijksmuseum - the national museum and art gallery. As expected it did not disappoint, and unlike the Louvre there weren't hordes of tourists pushing and shoving. The Van Gogh museum was equally if not more of a joy. I could have easily stood and stared at his sunflowers all day, with his early work The Potato Eaters (1885) being a highlight. There was also a painting provided that you were allowed to touch, which was for people with visual impairment to enjoy although others are encouraged to partake.
My last night in Amsterdam, I found myself at Bluebird again. This time I was with a Canadian, and again with that funny little dude from Romania. I'm not joking or being condescending when I call him little - he was shorter than me and wore boots with little Cuban heels that clickity clacked on the wooden floors of our hostel.
Despite having never been high or even smoked a cigarette in his life, the little Romanian decided he was going to eat a space cake - this is stoner slang for happy baking, if you get my drift. Although the Canadian and I warned him that he might just want to stick to Amsterdam’s finest for now, the wee man insisted he wanted to party and inhaled the muffin at such a rate I thought he might choke. An hour later we were sitting in The Bulldog, the oldest coffeeshop in Amsterdam, when the effects began to hit.
My head is so heavy
It is made of concrete
I can not lift it
My head, It is so big
Slowly at first then all at once, my once talkative friend sunk into himself. He crossed his arms and buried himself into his inner elbows. His eyelids didn't move but his eyes flickered back and forth - it was obvious he was seeing something but whatever it was, he wouldn't tell us. By now the Canadian was off his chops as well. I asked them both if they would like to go for a walk. After a while, the Canadian and I dropped the Romanian off at the hostel and walked around till 1 am. I've met a lot of people travelling, but I'll never forget those two.
I'd like to say something inspiring or thought-provoking, but to be honest, my trip to Amsterdam ended just like that. I woke up, I ate possibly the best breakfast I will ever taste and I caught the train to the bus stop. Amsterdam is like that. It's very deliberate with a lack of mystery - abrupt and unabashed. A city of so-called sin, history and culture, where every decadent desire you could possibly harbour is ready to be indulged.
A Quick Guide to Amsterdam
What to see in Amsterdam
When in Amsterdam, don’t miss The Bluebird Coffeeshop - even if you don't like to get high, this place is a sight to behold. It's a tall and thin building with murals all over the walls and a spiral staircase that’ll lead you up to a charming if slightly smokey wee cafe. The best thing about Bluebird is it's reasonably priced and out of the tourist zone. If you can survive the staircase after a few joints I'll be impressed. Also, watch out for the toy store next door - that monkey is not your friend.
Avoid the coffeeshops in the city’s infamous Red Light District - including The Bulldog. They'll rip you off. Also, do your best to avoid street dealers and never smoke on the side of the road - believe it or not, marijuana is still illegal in The Netherlands, as is prostitution. The Dutch have a word for this is gedogen, the closest translation of which is tolerance or toleration in law. Basically, the authorities put up with it. Don't be that asshole on the side of the road ruining the party for everyone. Stick to your chosen coffeeshop and know your limits.
I would also strongly recommend a visit to the Van Gogh Museum - his sunflowers are even more mesmerising in person and The Potato Eaters is hauntingly beautiful. It reduced me to tears.
Where to stay in Amsterdam
I stayed at The White Tulip Hostel. I can not recommend nor condemn this hostel - it had it's positives and negatives. There isn't a common area nor an elevator, so you'll be climbing the infamous Amsterdam-style stairwell bag and all whether you like it or not. The bathrooms were a little dirty and smelly, and the staff weren't all that friendly. Lastly, the beds weren't all that snuggly, and the noise from The Red Light District does travel. However I would stay here again for the location alone. I also met some cool people and it's very cheap compared with other hostels in the city. Bear in mind the bathrooms are uni-sex - whether or not that's a deal breaker is up to you. If the receptionist tells you the trains are free, he's lying.
What to try in Amsterdam
Make sure you try breakfast at Omelegg - the first omelettery in The Netherlands. It's a little expensive at about €10 for a basic omelette and you'll probably have to wait for a table, but it's well worth it.