A few months ago a friend of mine Gary, from Perth Western Australia, let me know that he was planning a winter tour through some of Europe. His tour coincided with my annual black tie birthday event so I was a little excited at the opportunity to have an actual visiting Australian friend at my birthday. Oddly enough my birthday in Edinburgh didn’t seem to have as much appeal as other European destinations. Forgivable only as he had visited me here in Edinburgh a couple of years ago. Looking at his itinerary I suggested this time we meet up in Amsterdam, easy for me to get to and one of the places I keep meaning to see but just have never got around to. It’s 1hr 10mins flight time direct from Edinburgh and I’d heard they had an efficient train link from the airport to central Amsterdam. A few months in advance and my return flight cost £92. I admit it, I’m an anxious traveller, so even though I get really excited about gong on holiday the actual getting there and getting back fills me with dread. I had taken the Friday off work for my 2pm flight, which gave me ample time in the morning to wander about my penthouse trying to decide what to pack. This process took as much time as I thought it might (all morning) but not longer than I had allowed and I was on my way to the airport bus by 11.30am. It might only take 25 mins to get to the airport but I couldn’t chance being late for my flight. I love being on the No. 100 airport bus when it’s heading to the airport, it’s the first sign that a holiday is about to begin. Of course I was so early that there was some discussion at the easyjet check in desk as to whether or not they could take my case as check in for my flight didn’t open for another 10 minutes, they were nice enough about it and agreed to take it however even this made me anxious. I was sure because I had checked in too early my luggage would end up on an earlier flight to any place other than Amsterdam. I was sure they had a Burger King at the airport but that seemed to have been removed since I was there last, which was too long ago. I decided that the only way I could relax was to get myself through security and sit in front of my gate for the next 2 hours. It would seem unlikely I would miss my flight if I was sat there looking at it waiting to take off. Removing just about everything I could at security and putting it in the tray for scanning (I just couldn’t deal with the metal detector beeping at me) I made my way through untroubled by the bored looking security staff. So bored in fact that the guy who was meant to be watching the screen of x-rayed carry on luggage spent most of his time facing and talking to his colleague who was getting people ready for the metal detector. Gosh knows just how many bags went through without him so much as glancing at them. Well I pottered around Edinburgh airport looking at the shops and things, sure I was bored but I knew inside myself that Id rather be bored and really early for my flight then feeling sick with anxiety getting there later than I did. When we boarded I was only about the 20th person to get on the plane so I could have sat almost anywhere yet I found myself heading for my usual preferred seat. Oddly this happens to be the row second from the rear of the plane. I’d take the very last row but those seats don’t recline, not that I’d bother to recline my seat on such a short flight, but the fact that I cant annoys me. I was really surprised by the amount of Dutch speaking people on my flight. Heading to the Netherlands it’s hardly surprising they were on the plane, but it was the thought that there were so many Dutch people in Edinburgh and I never noticed. Edinburgh was grey and overcast when I left, quesorpressa, when we climbed above the clouds I was a touch shocked at just how bright the sun was. It felt like I’d not seen bright sunshine in months and months, well, in reality I probably hadn’t. The flight was smooth and uneventful. I watch ½ of the movie ‘Turbulence’ which I had downloaded into my phone. I love my phone. Arriving at Amsterdam airport I was yet again reminded of how I don’t really ‘know’ how airports work. I just kinda fall through them and magically end up where I hoped I would. I couldn’t tell you the layout, where the shops are or anything. When using a new airport, foreign or not, I just look for signs such as ‘baggage claim’ or ‘new arrivals’ and start walking in that direction. Having made my way to customs I was shocked at just how attractive the man who stamped my passport was. Such strong masculine arms bursting out of his short sleeve shirt. He barely glanced at me, which was disappointing especially considering he gave the Asian guy ahead of me a right grilling. I should be so lucky. He stamped my passport and on I went Having found my case on the carousel (pleased it made the same flight as me) I then looked for signs that would lead me to the train to take me into the city centre. I lost time at the automated train ticket machines, it wasn’t difficult to use them but it appeared I wasn’t the only person trying to use them for the first time. I’m confident the locals must get annoyed at the tourists arsing about with them. I finally got to the head of the queue, had a go, thought I did it right but the dam machines wouldn’t take my cards. I finally decided to give up and find some kind of information desk when I spotted a staffed train ticket desk, I should have just gone there to begin with. Got my ticket from the guy there and looked at the various sighs above the escalators that take you down to the train platforms for one that matched the destination printed on my ticket. Found one that was due to leave in 2 minutes and ran for it. Having jumped on board I asked a couple standing next to me if they knew it went to Amsterdam Central and they confirmed it for me. I had a missed call from Gary so I sent him a text saying I was on a train that I hoped would take me into Central Station. He called me back and began to give me directions on how to find the hotel from the train station “when you step out the train station go left and then go left over the first bridge you come across etc”. I really didn’t want to deal with the roaming charges on my mobile long after the holiday had been and gone so I said I’d call him when I got to the train station and could actually see the land marks he was describing. The train ride only took about 20 minutes and then I emerged like a stupid tourist at Central Station surrounded by busy people rushing from one place they knew to another place they knew. Just before I got off the train there was an announcement in English saying we were approaching central station and to be aware that pick pockets may be in operation at the station. I put everything into pockets with zips before I got off the train but given the warning I didn’t want to look like too much of a lost tourist, which was all together too challenging. I fumbled my way out through a door which was overlooking a huge body of water. As per Gary’s instructions I went to my left where I saw a bridge. I went over the bridge and turned left again. I got out the small map I printed off the web and tried to navigate my way to the hotel, I was keen to show Gary how confidently I could navigate my way through a foreign city and find him. After about 10 minutes of walking while checking the map I gave in and decided that I only have a limited amount of time there so why waste it playing with maps when I can call Gary and he can just tell me where to go. That’s when I discovered I couldn’t call Australian numbers on my mobile! The light was fading, it was a cold evening of about 2oC but about 20 minutes later a stressed out Trey found the hotel.
Having checked in a nice doorman offered to take my luggage and show me to my room, I said to him “I’ve just spent the last half hour trying to find my way here from the train station, I’m very happy for someone else to guide to my room”. It should have only been a 10 minute walk but unknown to me there is more than one exit from the station and I took the wrong one. The doorman knocked on the bedroom door and Gary answered, my pal from Australia, I’d found him. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to tip the doorman, for showing me to my room I didn’t think it was warranted, so I just walked across into the room and Gary sent him on his way. The Grand Hotel Amrath (108 Prins Hendrikkade Street) was brilliant, so unique. It appeared to me to be a mixture of art deco and gothic. Gary said the hotel was ‘Adams Familyesque’, as I found some of the metal detailing along the stairs menacing I’d I have to agree with him. It was beautiful though and I felt privileged to stay there, thanks Gary.
Having dropped my bag off and had a quick catch up, Gary and I walked out into the night to have a look at the place and find ourselves some where to eat. Even in the dark of a winter night I was excited to be there, it was obvious that there was much activity amongst the narrow streets. The architecture is so removed from that in Edinburgh, the canals make it quite different to any place I had ever seen before. I was excited just walking around. Caught a glimpse of the famous prostitutes in their shop front windows. I was impressed with the amount of rainbow flags flapping about the streets. The aroma of marijuana smoke wafting out from the cafes was obvious and amusing. It was quite clear Amsterdam isn’t like other places. We found a restaurant to have dinner in, three delicious courses, but still I was hungry. I should also like to add that I ordered my steak as ‘medium’ and when the waiter brought it out to me and I could see a line of blood running from it and I thought there was going to be a problem. The waiter sat it in front of me and asked “did you mean an English medium or a Dutch medium because we know you English like it less bloody than we do”, I said I’d prefer the English version to which he replied as he picked up my plate “someone in the kitchen is going to hate me”. He was very accommodating and polite about it all, thank you waiter guy. The replacement steak was perfect. We walked into the night again and found a pastry shop, oh my word the treats they had on display. I ended up selecting a croissant filled with custard, decorated with a strawberry sliced into thirds and covered in a thin honey glaze. Messy to eat but delicious, delicious. Being that February is the beginning of my dry season where I quit drinking and smoking for at least a month, eating has become one of my most favourite things to do. As Gary’s not one for late night drinking and I’m playing it sober I think we were back in the hotel by 10.00pm. This worked for me as it gave me time to fill the large deep bath in our room and go for a soak. It had been so long since I’ve had a bath and that was no ordinary bath, it was more like a pool built for one, brilliant. End Friday 5th February Saturday 6th February started early for me, 7.30am to be exact. I didn’t want to wake Gary but given my tendency to take forever in the bathroom getting ready I decided to start that and hope that by the time I was done he would be ready to start his day. The shower was just as amazing as the bath! The 20cm wide shower head flooded down a stream of hot water that made it necessary for my already long shower to take just that little bit longer to truly appreciate the experience. Once Gary was ready we headed into town and I found a tourist café that served us their version of an English breakfast. To say it was distinctly average is to be polite and it wasn’t much like any breakfast I’ve been served up in England. We then walked on to the Homomonument which commemorates all the gays that were singled out and killed during the war, reminds us that there are still gays out there being persecuted just for being gay and to celebrate all the good things that gays do. When Gary told me there was a Homomonument I was expecting to find a statue of a Greek Adonis, the large pink triangle wharf came as a surprise. I loved Amsterdam for having it.
Quite literally just around the corner from it is Anne Franks house which didn’t look at all like I expected. I knew that it was a store when they all stayed there but now the exterior has been changed into what looks like an office block.
I had been so excited about seeing Amsterdam in the daylight it was rather disappointing that we had such thick fog all of Saturday. Made taking photos quite challenging. Cold and foggy as it was we still walked all over the place, but the temperature did make spending time inside stores more appealing which is where I came across Sissy Boy.
I wanted to take a look at their store just because of the name, little did I realise it would become my most favourite store ever. Not only did it have some fun affordable fashions, it also has a complete home wares department full of things every gay needs in their home. Chandeliers, dining tables, dinner sets, throw rugs, so very many pretty things to behold. Loved it. We made out way along to the flower market which was pretty. Here I noticed the DIY marijuana starter kits for sale, not the kind of thing one may bring home with them.
There was a pancake restaurant just next to the market so we took lunch there. I was thinking I might be able to get a pancake stack like in New York, but it wasn’t like that at all. One large thin pancake, this was not nearly enough, not by far. Gary and I shared another one, but again I found this lacking. We also came across a market which turned out to be a fun surprise. There was lots of crap up for grabs, along with a large selection of clothes. I couldn’t help but take some time to look at all the overcoats on display. I love heavy winter coats and I found one that took my fancy, tired it on, had Gary take a photo of me wearing it so I could see it properly, then I made him try it on, decided I really liked it and it was mine for $20 Euros. A new coat like that would easily go for £150 back in the UK so I felt a bit king of the world having found such a bargain. After walking around some more we made our way back to the hotel where Gary was kind enough to lend me his bathers so that I could take advantage of the hotels ‘wellness centre’. I spent an hour going from pool to jacuzzi to steam room and back again. Despite swimming being exercise it felt very indulgent to use their facilities and there went many people about so I had a free run of the place. Having cleaned up again we headed out for dinner and went to one of the many Argentinean restaurants. It was a good feed, they know how to cook meat. After that we meandered through the streets some more, took a walk through the red light district and had a good look at the ladies in their windows and the guys that had come to see them.
While there was no menace in the air this street had a distinctly masculine feel about it and I didn’t feel particularly welcome there. It was along that street that we came across a bunch of English lads in unusual tennis themed attire, some kind of stag weekend I expect. As they walked onto the street one of the group yelled out to his makes ‘right lads, lets go look at some hookers’, they really did the UK proud. Again I felt like just getting a coffee, perhaps a pastry, but we couldn’t find a coffee shop that wasn’t a dope den.
Failing that I thought it would be nice to hang out in a quiet gay bar and look at the local talent. We failed on that one too. The gay bars were heaving and quite noisy, we weren’t up for it so we just made our way back to the hotel again and were in bed by 10.30pm. I know, living life to the max. Still this is what not drinking does to a holiday, that and walking around all day was taxing. I went to sleep hoping that the next day would be sunny, or at least not have any fog. I also hoped that I wouldn’t snore as Gary had mentioned that I had been making a bit of noise the previous night, along with talking in my sleep. I denied these slanderous allegations completely. Sunday 8th February We had breakfast at a rather contemporary café just next to the hotel and that worked really well. Half a baguette with bacon, egg and cheese, latte and freshly squeezed orange juice, but it wasn’t enough. I then ordered a chocolate croissant which was large, flaky and delicious and that’s what I call breakfast. Just as well we ate up good because we spent a little bit longer than we anticipated walking to the canal cruise place/we got lost. In life it would be fare of me to say that I have no sense of direction at all, unless I happen to be in the city of Adelaide, South Australia, which doesn’t happen very often. The fog kept coming and going but the sky remained grey and overcast, the landmarks were all new to me, no sense of direction at all. Gary had the map and we got there in the end.
The cruise cost $20 Euros, was a warm thing to do, very gentile and relaxed. It was nice having the sights come to us for a change instead of us hunting everything down. Your ticket is valid for 24 hours and you can hop on hop off, swap to different boats to take different routes. While it was a nice experience I preferred to explore the city on foot.
Our tour ended at the place the ocean liners dock and we walked to Nimo.
I can’t recall if that was the name of the replica boat or the museum, either way it was an odd thing to see an old wooden sailing ship. I couldn’t possibly imagine travelling from Europe to Australia on it. The thought of just getting from Amsterdam to the UK made me queasy. It was then time for lunch, if fact I’d say it had been lunch time for some time before we got to the pizza place. My pizza was nice, and it was nice to again be out from the cold. I don’t know what came over him but it was at this venue Gary decided to match me meal for meal. So it was a pizza each followed by a banana split each. I’d eaten a 3rd more than him at every meal so far so to watch him eat exactly what I was eating felt like a challenge. The challenge wasn’t to be taken up there though because the banana split they served us was RUBBISH! Yes it had enough whipped cream, yes is had enough ice cream, but there wasn’t enough chocolate sauce and there wasn’t enough BANANA! There were 5 thin circular slices of banana under all the cream and ice cream. Gary’s was the same, we surmised they had split the banana between us. We then went hat shopping for me. We had been looking at hats off and on all weekend for me but I just couldn’t find one I liked. Well I did find one that was perfect but it just wasn’t the right colour. It must have been along this venture that we happened across a mannequin outside a second hand store that was posed wearing a grey jacket. His jacket wasn’t as lovely as my new jacket but it occurred to me that we looked similar enough to match a little, so I had Gary take a photo of us together.
I think it hilarious although I got the impression from Gary that he didn’t see the point in it at the time. Gary bought a black, amazingly soft, lamb leather jacket from a department store. There was something about it being made from lamb skin that seemed a bit off to me but I’m sure the little critter would have been eaten and if not made into a jacket his skin would have been just tossed and that would have been a true waste. Back to the hotel to drop off some kit and then we went out to have an aperitif at a gay bar before heading to dinner. Even at 6.45pm on a Sunday night the bars were packed and noisy, again not what we were in the mood for. We ended up going to renaissance square in our search for the illusive subdued gay venue but alas our search was fruitless. We took a tram back to central station and after wandering some more found some place to eat. I really did enjoy my food on that holiday. On our way back to the hotel we walked past the crowded gay bars again and just couldn’t do it. We were feeling relaxed and that was just too pumping. I did want to see a room full of Dutch gay men but it didn’t happen on that trip. We decided to sit for a time in the hotel bar, which was very nice.
The mocktails were about $5 Euro’s which I begrudged paying for, I didn’t even fancy a coke, but on the menu was ‘Amsterdam tap water’ which I found novel and was free, perfect. Gary went for a cointreau and tonic water. We sat there chatting away while the giant of a young man served us three rounds. He also laughed a little when I ordered the ‘Amsterdam tap water with a slice of lemon and ice’, they couldn’t just say tap water? It wasn’t as adventurous as playing in one of the gay bars, but it was really nice to sit with Gary and just chat about our time in Amsterdam and life in general. I hadn’t seen him since January 09 when I was in Australia. Speaking of Australia and Scotland, I put our hands together there was a clear and obvious tone difference between them. Gary’s an olivy brown, mine pasty white. I’m proud of my Scottish tan. At midnight we called it a night and headed back to our room. Monday 9th February My last day in Amsterdam, well it was really only a few hours. I believe I’ve covered my travel anxieties so it goes without saying that I wanted to be on the train to the airport by 2pm for my 5pm flight. We again had breakfast at the place around the corner from our hotel. I had at this point almost completely run out of money so I only had a coffee and the bacon & egg roll, no croissant or OJ for me. Gary actually paid for breakfast, which I appreciated very much. We then took a walk through one of the parks. It was pleasant but parks in winter generally aren’t seen at their best. The water in the lake had a thick sheet of ice over most of it. Having given it a few thumps with my boot I decided it wasn’t thick enough to hold me and everything I’d been eating recently.
A man did throw a stick across it for his dog to chase after. The dog didn’t fall through the ice but still, I wasn’t gonna test it. There was an odd statue of a guy riding a goat, so I had a Gary take a photo of me riding the goat as well. Then it was time to head back to the hotel and on to the train station.
I would like to point out that, that day the wind started to blow and it was FREEZING! It was that morning that Gary pointed out he had a spare hat in his kit that I could use. Seriously, my heads been freezing for the last 2 days and now, hours before my adventure ends, he tells me he has a spare hat. Not only that but it just went perfectly with my new coat, I should have been wearing it from day one. Gary did a wonderful job of taking me through the streets of Amsterdam, I enjoyed his company very much. He didn’t seem to mind my constant ‘Gary would you take my photo please’ requests, he let me stay in his nice hotel, he’s just a generous lovely guy and it disturbs me that he’s still single. If Gary can achieve all he has and be the person that he is and not find that special someone, what chance do I have? That’s a rhetorical question I’m not looking for your feeback. I didn’t dwell on it but I had a chat about the likelihood of me being redeployed in the near future, the Council being £90 million out of pocket, the UK is still battling with its money woes. Gary went on to say that Perth is economically doing especially well and that I shall have to stay living in Scotland forever as an economic refugee as I could never afford to move back to Australia. No, I’ve changed my mind, Gary is horrible after all. Unless I find that special someone my plan remains to move back to Australia when I’m 40, unless I get sacked and then I might just say ‘How very dare you. Fu ck you Scotland, I’m heading home’. My boss keeps telling me that we are going to be alright, but I doubt it very much. Err, back to the story. With my bag packed Gary took me across to the train station and I picked up a hand full of postcards for a couple people around the world. $8.30 Euro they cost me, £8.30! Brilliant, there goes lunch. So if you get one I want you to realise that I went hungry so you may have a card from Amsterdam. While there was no need for him to, Gary consented to walk me to my platform. I do ache for nursemaiding when it comes to travel. I gave him a hug farewell and then got on the train.
Nothing special happened at the airport. I was anxious about missing the airport station but I managed. I did have to wait for almost an hour before the check in staff to announced the Edinburgh flight before I could hand over my case and go through to departures. I did look around for the best value food options I could find. I was starving and now only had $6.55 to my name. I could have gone to a machine and got more money out but I was loath to do so, there would be a fee from may bank for it and then I would have too much money and be left with stupid unusable Euros to take home. Anyway I found McDonalds had a quarter pounder meal for $6.45, thank you Gods, thank you. The girl who served me asked “would you like to upgrade to a large meal”, bloody hell of course I would, and I’d also like a double cheese burger on the side, but I replied “I only have $6.45 so I’ll have to take what that gets”. She didn’t seem to care, came back with my meal and said “would you like mayonnaise, oh no, that’s extra” and just handed me my meal as is. I sat there cherishing every fry and bite of burger. Like that kid Oliver who asked for more, although I knew there would be no more, not till I got back to Edinburgh. I killed my time by watching more of the movie I had on my phone. It was a little over the top but I really liked it. On the flight I was annoyed at having to fill in a landing card because I had a passport issued outside the EU. I’ve been living here 7 years and I still have to fill in that stupid card, RRRR. Still rules are rules. When we got to customs at Edinburgh the EU passport line consisted of everyone on the plane, except us 4 ‘foreign’ passport holders, who had our own very short line, ha, ha. This was the first time I had used my new passport and I was really pleased to get my Edinburgh stamp in it. It is my home, I do live here and now I have a stamp to prove it. I picked up my case, headed out to the airport bus to take me back to my beloved penthouse and with every step my mood just dropped further and further. It was such fun being away and the reality of coming back to normal life seemed unpleasant. Being away for a long weekend with Gary reminded me of why I’m not ready to leave Europe yet. Amsterdam is one of Scotland’s closest neighbours yet it has taken me 7 years to make the effort to go pay it a visit. I must make more of an effort to explore Europe further. Gary said he still has 7 countries he’s not ventured to, I worked out I’ve only been to 7 countries, pretty lame. Well that was my visit to Amsterdam, loved the place. Would really, really like to go back with a couple friends when I permit myself to consume alcohol again, I’m sure it would make for a very different holiday. Thanks for reading and I'm going to leave you with some random photos from about the place. Oh, I forgot to mention that they are mad on cycling over there, mad for it. It really is pedestrian be ware. Cheers Trey Earl of Dalry
A few months ago a friend of mine Gary, from Perth Western Australia, let me know that he was planning a winter tour through some of Europe. His tour coincided with my annual black tie birthday event so I was a little excited at the opportunity to have an actual visiting Australian friend at my birthday. Oddly enough my birthday in Edinburgh didn’t seem to have as much appeal as other European destinations. Forgivable only as he had visited me here in Edinburgh a couple of years ago. Looking at his itinerary I suggested this time we meet up in Amsterdam, easy for me to get to and one of the places I keep meaning to see but just have never got around to. It’s 1hr 10mins flight time direct from Edinburgh and I’d heard they had an efficient train link from the airport to central Amsterdam. A few months in advance and my return flight cost £92. I admit it, I’m an anxious traveller, so even though I get really excited about gong on holiday the actual getting there and getting back fills me with dread. I had taken the Friday off work for my 2pm flight, which gave me ample time in the morning to wander about my penthouse trying to decide what to pack. This process took as much time as I thought it might (all morning) but not longer than I had allowed and I was on my way to the airport bus by 11.30am. It might only take 25 mins to get to the airport but I couldn’t chance being late for my flight. I love being on the No. 100 airport bus when it’s heading to the airport, it’s the first sign that a holiday is about to begin. Of course I was so early that there was some discussion at the easyjet check in desk as to whether or not they could take my case as check in for my flight didn’t open for another 10 minutes, they were nice enough about it and agreed to take it however even this made me anxious. I was sure because I had checked in too early my luggage would end up on an earlier flight to any place other than Amsterdam. I was sure they had a Burger King at the airport but that seemed to have been removed since I was there last, which was too long ago. I decided that the only way I could relax was to get myself through security and sit in front of my gate for the next 2 hours. It would seem unlikely I would miss my flight if I was sat there looking at it waiting to take off. Removing just about everything I could at security and putting it in the tray for scanning (I just couldn’t deal with the metal detector beeping at me) I made my way through untroubled by the bored looking security staff. So bored in fact that the guy who was meant to be watching the screen of x-rayed carry on luggage spent most of his time facing and talking to his colleague who was getting people ready for the metal detector. Gosh knows just how many bags went through without him so much as glancing at them. Well I pottered around Edinburgh airport looking at the shops and things, sure I was bored but I knew inside myself that Id rather be bored and really early for my flight then feeling sick with anxiety getting there later than I did. When we boarded I was only about the 20th person to get on the plane so I could have sat almost anywhere yet I found myself heading for my usual preferred seat. Oddly this happens to be the row second from the rear of the plane. I’d take the very last row but those seats don’t recline, not that I’d bother to recline my seat on such a short flight, but the fact that I cant annoys me. I was really surprised by the amount of Dutch speaking people on my flight. Heading to the Netherlands it’s hardly surprising they were on the plane, but it was the thought that there were so many Dutch people in Edinburgh and I never noticed. Edinburgh was grey and overcast when I left, quesorpressa, when we climbed above the clouds I was a touch shocked at just how bright the sun was. It felt like I’d not seen bright sunshine in months and months, well, in reality I probably hadn’t. The flight was smooth and uneventful. I watch ½ of the movie ‘Turbulence’ which I had downloaded into my phone. I love my phone. Arriving at Amsterdam airport I was yet again reminded of how I don’t really ‘know’ how airports work. I just kinda fall through them and magically end up where I hoped I would. I couldn’t tell you the layout, where the shops are or anything. When using a new airport, foreign or not, I just look for signs such as ‘baggage claim’ or ‘new arrivals’ and start walking in that direction. Having made my way to customs I was shocked at just how attractive the man who stamped my passport was. Such strong masculine arms bursting out of his short sleeve shirt. He barely glanced at me, which was disappointing especially considering he gave the Asian guy ahead of me a right grilling. I should be so lucky. He stamped my passport and on I went Having found my case on the carousel (pleased it made the same flight as me) I then looked for signs that would lead me to the train to take me into the city centre. I lost time at the automated train ticket machines, it wasn’t difficult to use them but it appeared I wasn’t the only person trying to use them for the first time. I’m confident the locals must get annoyed at the tourists arsing about with them. I finally got to the head of the queue, had a go, thought I did it right but the dam machines wouldn’t take my cards. I finally decided to give up and find some kind of information desk when I spotted a staffed train ticket desk, I should have just gone there to begin with. Got my ticket from the guy there and looked at the various sighs above the escalators that take you down to the train platforms for one that matched the destination printed on my ticket. Found one that was due to leave in 2 minutes and ran for it. Having jumped on board I asked a couple standing next to me if they knew it went to Amsterdam Central and they confirmed it for me. I had a missed call from Gary so I sent him a text saying I was on a train that I hoped would take me into Central Station. He called me back and began to give me directions on how to find the hotel from the train station “when you step out the train station go left and then go left over the first bridge you come across etc”. I really didn’t want to deal with the roaming charges on my mobile long after the holiday had been and gone so I said I’d call him when I got to the train station and could actually see the land marks he was describing. The train ride only took about 20 minutes and then I emerged like a stupid tourist at Central Station surrounded by busy people rushing from one place they knew to another place they knew. Just before I got off the train there was an announcement in English saying we were approaching central station and to be aware that pick pockets may be in operation at the station. I put everything into pockets with zips before I got off the train but given the warning I didn’t want to look like too much of a lost tourist, which was all together too challenging. I fumbled my way out through a door which was overlooking a huge body of water. As per Gary’s instructions I went to my left where I saw a bridge. I went over the bridge and turned left again. I got out the small map I printed off the web and tried to navigate my way to the hotel, I was keen to show Gary how confidently I could navigate my way through a foreign city and find him. After about 10 minutes of walking while checking the map I gave in and decided that I only have a limited amount of time there so why waste it playing with maps when I can call Gary and he can just tell me where to go. That’s when I discovered I couldn’t call Australian numbers on my mobile! The light was fading, it was a cold evening of about 2oC but about 20 minutes later a stressed out Trey found the hotel. 
Having checked in a nice doorman offered to take my luggage and show me to my room, I said to him “I’ve just spent the last half hour trying to find my way here from the train station, I’m very happy for someone else to guide to my room”. It should have only been a 10 minute walk but unknown to me there is more than one exit from the station and I took the wrong one. The doorman knocked on the bedroom door and Gary answered, my pal from Australia, I’d found him. I wasn’t sure if I was meant to tip the doorman, for showing me to my room I didn’t think it was warranted, so I just walked across into the room and Gary sent him on his way. The Grand Hotel Amrath (108 Prins Hendrikkade Street) was brilliant, so unique. It appeared to me to be a mixture of art deco and gothic. Gary said the hotel was ‘Adams Familyesque’, as I found some of the metal detailing along the stairs menacing I’d I have to agree with him. It was beautiful though and I felt privileged to stay there, thanks Gary. 
Having dropped my bag off and had a quick catch up, Gary and I walked out into the night to have a look at the place and find ourselves some where to eat. Even in the dark of a winter night I was excited to be there, it was obvious that there was much activity amongst the narrow streets. The architecture is so removed from that in Edinburgh, the canals make it quite different to any place I had ever seen before. I was excited just walking around. Caught a glimpse of the famous prostitutes in their shop front windows. I was impressed with the amount of rainbow flags flapping about the streets. The aroma of marijuana smoke wafting out from the cafes was obvious and amusing. It was quite clear Amsterdam isn’t like other places. We found a restaurant to have dinner in, three delicious courses, but still I was hungry. I should also like to add that I ordered my steak as ‘medium’ and when the waiter brought it out to me and I could see a line of blood running from it and I thought there was going to be a problem. The waiter sat it in front of me and asked “did you mean an English medium or a Dutch medium because we know you English like it less bloody than we do”, I said I’d prefer the English version to which he replied as he picked up my plate “someone in the kitchen is going to hate me”. He was very accommodating and polite about it all, thank you waiter guy. The replacement steak was perfect. We walked into the night again and found a pastry shop, oh my word the treats they had on display. I ended up selecting a croissant filled with custard, decorated with a strawberry sliced into thirds and covered in a thin honey glaze. Messy to eat but delicious, delicious. Being that February is the beginning of my dry season where I quit drinking and smoking for at least a month, eating has become one of my most favourite things to do. As Gary’s not one for late night drinking and I’m playing it sober I think we were back in the hotel by 10.00pm. This worked for me as it gave me time to fill the large deep bath in our room and go for a soak. It had been so long since I’ve had a bath and that was no ordinary bath, it was more like a pool built for one, brilliant. End Friday 5th February Saturday 6th February started early for me, 7.30am to be exact. I didn’t want to wake Gary but given my tendency to take forever in the bathroom getting ready I decided to start that and hope that by the time I was done he would be ready to start his day. The shower was just as amazing as the bath! The 20cm wide shower head flooded down a stream of hot water that made it necessary for my already long shower to take just that little bit longer to truly appreciate the experience. Once Gary was ready we headed into town and I found a tourist café that served us their version of an English breakfast. To say it was distinctly average is to be polite and it wasn’t much like any breakfast I’ve been served up in England. We then walked on to the Homomonument which commemorates all the gays that were singled out and killed during the war, reminds us that there are still gays out there being persecuted just for being gay and to celebrate all the good things that gays do. When Gary told me there was a Homomonument I was expecting to find a statue of a Greek Adonis, the large pink triangle wharf came as a surprise. I loved Amsterdam for having it. 
Quite literally just around the corner from it is Anne Franks house which didn’t look at all like I expected. I knew that it was a store when they all stayed there but now the exterior has been changed into what looks like an office block. 
I had been so excited about seeing Amsterdam in the daylight it was rather disappointing that we had such thick fog all of Saturday. Made taking photos quite challenging. Cold and foggy as it was we still walked all over the place, but the temperature did make spending time inside stores more appealing which is where I came across Sissy Boy. 
I wanted to take a look at their store just because of the name, little did I realise it would become my most favourite store ever. Not only did it have some fun affordable fashions, it also has a complete home wares department full of things every gay needs in their home. Chandeliers, dining tables, dinner sets, throw rugs, so very many pretty things to behold. Loved it. We made out way along to the flower market which was pretty. Here I noticed the DIY marijuana starter kits for sale, not the kind of thing one may bring home with them. 
There was a pancake restaurant just next to the market so we took lunch there. I was thinking I might be able to get a pancake stack like in New York, but it wasn’t like that at all. One large thin pancake, this was not nearly enough, not by far. Gary and I shared another one, but again I found this lacking. We also came across a market which turned out to be a fun surprise. There was lots of crap up for grabs, along with a large selection of clothes. I couldn’t help but take some time to look at all the overcoats on display. I love heavy winter coats and I found one that took my fancy, tired it on, had Gary take a photo of me wearing it so I could see it properly, then I made him try it on, decided I really liked it and it was mine for $20 Euros. A new coat like that would easily go for £150 back in the UK so I felt a bit king of the world having found such a bargain. After walking around some more we made our way back to the hotel where Gary was kind enough to lend me his bathers so that I could take advantage of the hotels ‘wellness centre’. I spent an hour going from pool to jacuzzi to steam room and back again. Despite swimming being exercise it felt very indulgent to use their facilities and there went many people about so I had a free run of the place. Having cleaned up again we headed out for dinner and went to one of the many Argentinean restaurants. It was a good feed, they know how to cook meat. After that we meandered through the streets some more, took a walk through the red light district and had a good look at the ladies in their windows and the guys that had come to see them. 
While there was no menace in the air this street had a distinctly masculine feel about it and I didn’t feel particularly welcome there. It was along that street that we came across a bunch of English lads in unusual tennis themed attire, some kind of stag weekend I expect. As they walked onto the street one of the group yelled out to his makes ‘right lads, lets go look at some hookers’, they really did the UK proud. Again I felt like just getting a coffee, perhaps a pastry, but we couldn’t find a coffee shop that wasn’t a dope den. 
Failing that I thought it would be nice to hang out in a quiet gay bar and look at the local talent. We failed on that one too. The gay bars were heaving and quite noisy, we weren’t up for it so we just made our way back to the hotel again and were in bed by 10.30pm. I know, living life to the max. Still this is what not drinking does to a holiday, that and walking around all day was taxing. I went to sleep hoping that the next day would be sunny, or at least not have any fog. I also hoped that I wouldn’t snore as Gary had mentioned that I had been making a bit of noise the previous night, along with talking in my sleep. I denied these slanderous allegations completely. Sunday 8th February We had breakfast at a rather contemporary café just next to the hotel and that worked really well. Half a baguette with bacon, egg and cheese, latte and freshly squeezed orange juice, but it wasn’t enough. I then ordered a chocolate croissant which was large, flaky and delicious and that’s what I call breakfast. Just as well we ate up good because we spent a little bit longer than we anticipated walking to the canal cruise place/we got lost. In life it would be fare of me to say that I have no sense of direction at all, unless I happen to be in the city of Adelaide, South Australia, which doesn’t happen very often. The fog kept coming and going but the sky remained grey and overcast, the landmarks were all new to me, no sense of direction at all. Gary had the map and we got there in the end. 
The cruise cost $20 Euros, was a warm thing to do, very gentile and relaxed. It was nice having the sights come to us for a change instead of us hunting everything down. Your ticket is valid for 24 hours and you can hop on hop off, swap to different boats to take different routes. While it was a nice experience I preferred to explore the city on foot. 
Our tour ended at the place the ocean liners dock and we walked to Nimo. 
I can’t recall if that was the name of the replica boat or the museum, either way it was an odd thing to see an old wooden sailing ship. I couldn’t possibly imagine travelling from Europe to Australia on it. The thought of just getting from Amsterdam to the UK made me queasy. It was then time for lunch, if fact I’d say it had been lunch time for some time before we got to the pizza place. My pizza was nice, and it was nice to again be out from the cold. I don’t know what came over him but it was at this venue Gary decided to match me meal for meal. So it was a pizza each followed by a banana split each. I’d eaten a 3rd more than him at every meal so far so to watch him eat exactly what I was eating felt like a challenge. The challenge wasn’t to be taken up there though because the banana split they served us was RUBBISH! Yes it had enough whipped cream, yes is had enough ice cream, but there wasn’t enough chocolate sauce and there wasn’t enough BANANA! There were 5 thin circular slices of banana under all the cream and ice cream. Gary’s was the same, we surmised they had split the banana between us. We then went hat shopping for me. We had been looking at hats off and on all weekend for me but I just couldn’t find one I liked. Well I did find one that was perfect but it just wasn’t the right colour. It must have been along this venture that we happened across a mannequin outside a second hand store that was posed wearing a grey jacket. His jacket wasn’t as lovely as my new jacket but it occurred to me that we looked similar enough to match a little, so I had Gary take a photo of us together. 
I think it hilarious although I got the impression from Gary that he didn’t see the point in it at the time. Gary bought a black, amazingly soft, lamb leather jacket from a department store. There was something about it being made from lamb skin that seemed a bit off to me but I’m sure the little critter would have been eaten and if not made into a jacket his skin would have been just tossed and that would have been a true waste. Back to the hotel to drop off some kit and then we went out to have an aperitif at a gay bar before heading to dinner. Even at 6.45pm on a Sunday night the bars were packed and noisy, again not what we were in the mood for. We ended up going to renaissance square in our search for the illusive subdued gay venue but alas our search was fruitless. We took a tram back to central station and after wandering some more found some place to eat. I really did enjoy my food on that holiday. On our way back to the hotel we walked past the crowded gay bars again and just couldn’t do it. We were feeling relaxed and that was just too pumping. I did want to see a room full of Dutch gay men but it didn’t happen on that trip. We decided to sit for a time in the hotel bar, which was very nice. 
The mocktails were about $5 Euro’s which I begrudged paying for, I didn’t even fancy a coke, but on the menu was ‘Amsterdam tap water’ which I found novel and was free, perfect. Gary went for a cointreau and tonic water. We sat there chatting away while the giant of a young man served us three rounds. He also laughed a little when I ordered the ‘Amsterdam tap water with a slice of lemon and ice’, they couldn’t just say tap water? It wasn’t as adventurous as playing in one of the gay bars, but it was really nice to sit with Gary and just chat about our time in Amsterdam and life in general. I hadn’t seen him since January 09 when I was in Australia. Speaking of Australia and Scotland, I put our hands together there was a clear and obvious tone difference between them. Gary’s an olivy brown, mine pasty white. I’m proud of my Scottish tan. At midnight we called it a night and headed back to our room. Monday 9th February My last day in Amsterdam, well it was really only a few hours. I believe I’ve covered my travel anxieties so it goes without saying that I wanted to be on the train to the airport by 2pm for my 5pm flight. We again had breakfast at the place around the corner from our hotel. I had at this point almost completely run out of money so I only had a coffee and the bacon & egg roll, no croissant or OJ for me. Gary actually paid for breakfast, which I appreciated very much. We then took a walk through one of the parks. It was pleasant but parks in winter generally aren’t seen at their best. The water in the lake had a thick sheet of ice over most of it. Having given it a few thumps with my boot I decided it wasn’t thick enough to hold me and everything I’d been eating recently. 
A man did throw a stick across it for his dog to chase after. The dog didn’t fall through the ice but still, I wasn’t gonna test it. There was an odd statue of a guy riding a goat, so I had a Gary take a photo of me riding the goat as well. Then it was time to head back to the hotel and on to the train station. 
I would like to point out that, that day the wind started to blow and it was FREEZING! It was that morning that Gary pointed out he had a spare hat in his kit that I could use. Seriously, my heads been freezing for the last 2 days and now, hours before my adventure ends, he tells me he has a spare hat. Not only that but it just went perfectly with my new coat, I should have been wearing it from day one. Gary did a wonderful job of taking me through the streets of Amsterdam, I enjoyed his company very much. He didn’t seem to mind my constant ‘Gary would you take my photo please’ requests, he let me stay in his nice hotel, he’s just a generous lovely guy and it disturbs me that he’s still single. If Gary can achieve all he has and be the person that he is and not find that special someone, what chance do I have? That’s a rhetorical question I’m not looking for your feeback. I didn’t dwell on it but I had a chat about the likelihood of me being redeployed in the near future, the Council being £90 million out of pocket, the UK is still battling with its money woes. Gary went on to say that Perth is economically doing especially well and that I shall have to stay living in Scotland forever as an economic refugee as I could never afford to move back to Australia. No, I’ve changed my mind, Gary is horrible after all. Unless I find that special someone my plan remains to move back to Australia when I’m 40, unless I get sacked and then I might just say ‘How very dare you. Fu ck you Scotland, I’m heading home’. My boss keeps telling me that we are going to be alright, but I doubt it very much. Err, back to the story. With my bag packed Gary took me across to the train station and I picked up a hand full of postcards for a couple people around the world. $8.30 Euro they cost me, £8.30! Brilliant, there goes lunch. So if you get one I want you to realise that I went hungry so you may have a card from Amsterdam. While there was no need for him to, Gary consented to walk me to my platform. I do ache for nursemaiding when it comes to travel. I gave him a hug farewell and then got on the train. 
Nothing special happened at the airport. I was anxious about missing the airport station but I managed. I did have to wait for almost an hour before the check in staff to announced the Edinburgh flight before I could hand over my case and go through to departures. I did look around for the best value food options I could find. I was starving and now only had $6.55 to my name. I could have gone to a machine and got more money out but I was loath to do so, there would be a fee from may bank for it and then I would have too much money and be left with stupid unusable Euros to take home. Anyway I found McDonalds had a quarter pounder meal for $6.45, thank you Gods, thank you. The girl who served me asked “would you like to upgrade to a large meal”, bloody hell of course I would, and I’d also like a double cheese burger on the side, but I replied “I only have $6.45 so I’ll have to take what that gets”. She didn’t seem to care, came back with my meal and said “would you like mayonnaise, oh no, that’s extra” and just handed me my meal as is. I sat there cherishing every fry and bite of burger. Like that kid Oliver who asked for more, although I knew there would be no more, not till I got back to Edinburgh. I killed my time by watching more of the movie I had on my phone. It was a little over the top but I really liked it. On the flight I was annoyed at having to fill in a landing card because I had a passport issued outside the EU. I’ve been living here 7 years and I still have to fill in that stupid card, RRRR. Still rules are rules. When we got to customs at Edinburgh the EU passport line consisted of everyone on the plane, except us 4 ‘foreign’ passport holders, who had our own very short line, ha, ha. This was the first time I had used my new passport and I was really pleased to get my Edinburgh stamp in it. It is my home, I do live here and now I have a stamp to prove it. I picked up my case, headed out to the airport bus to take me back to my beloved penthouse and with every step my mood just dropped further and further. It was such fun being away and the reality of coming back to normal life seemed unpleasant. Being away for a long weekend with Gary reminded me of why I’m not ready to leave Europe yet. Amsterdam is one of Scotland’s closest neighbours yet it has taken me 7 years to make the effort to go pay it a visit. I must make more of an effort to explore Europe further. Gary said he still has 7 countries he’s not ventured to, I worked out I’ve only been to 7 countries, pretty lame. Well that was my visit to Amsterdam, loved the place. Would really, really like to go back with a couple friends when I permit myself to consume alcohol again, I’m sure it would make for a very different holiday. Thanks for reading and I'm going to leave you with some random photos from about the place. Oh, I forgot to mention that they are mad on cycling over there, mad for it. It really is pedestrian be ware. Cheers Trey Earl of Dalry 
