I wont’ bore you (too much) with Amsterdam. I mean, Amsterdam to London is like Macau to Hong Kong, isn’t it? Less than an hour by flight and frankly it took me longer to get to the airport in London than the actual fly time.
Like pretty much most of my holidays, it was very much a stroll and munch trip. Not much of a sightseeing fan, I get more excited over a good pancake than a gigantic cathedral with historical implications that changed millions of lives. Not that there were any in this City of Sin/Freedom anyway. I did, however, venture out of the main city and hit Zaanse Schanse. (Did you go?) It used to be the industrial area of Netherlands, and while most windmills have been taken down, there are still a few left.
It was beautiful in the way that the village was picturesque and the air didn’t smell of weed, but it was not so beautiful with how tourist-orientated the place was geared. Minus the cottages selling diamonds and clogs and the cheese factory that doesn’t really make cheese, it was a brilliant day.
I did some awesome bowling in the windmill that saws wood too. And you know what, I knocked out more pins with this wonky ball in one go than I did in 1 game at the bowling alley. Talk about talent…
I felt awkward walking through the Red Light District, not because I was intimated by the genuinely super hot girls, but I felt bad. Though by free choice, these hotties have chosen their profession. However prostitutes in any other city wouldn’t have hordes of people, with no intention of dealing, giggling/staring and ultimately judging them. True true, they may be well used to it and it probably gets them more business, yet I couldn’t help connecting the experience with a zoo trek or a circus act. It would still be an act with the sexiest and most stunning women nonetheless.
Just as I started wondering if they actually get genuine customers, two cubicles drew their curtains.