Roman Holiday – Amster Style
Posted by admin in Destinations on Sep 12th, 2008 | 0 comments
Ever since Audrey Hepburn took her Roman Holiday, it has been every girl’s dream to see Italy from the back of a Vespa. I have yet to do this, but you know what they say. When in Amsterdam…
I returned to Holland tired from a night of Belgium beer and a long train ride. But with less than two days left, I still had plenty on my list to see. Most importantly, I had yet to ride a bike through the streets of Amsterdam. A friend had recommended Mike’s Bike Tours as a way to see the city and meet other people. I wanted to do the afternoon ride, then take the bike for the next day. Unfortunately, I was the only one who showed up. So change of plans. I took the bike for the night and took the tour in the morning.
It was a four hour ride into the country. I saw the Dutch windmills, met Dutch cows and ate some Dutch cheese. But more importantly, I got the scoop on the only microbrew in Amsterdam – an old windmill turned into a brew pub. The Brouwerij ‘t Ij was so new it wasn’t even in guidebooks yet. The bike guide told me it catered to the working class, with working class prices, but had short hours, closing at 9pm. So after the tour, I returned my bike and took the tram out for a visit.
It was a locals/neighborhood bar in the suburbs of Amsterdam’s east side. There was a group from a conference, locals and one group of English speaking college kids. I asked if I could join them, and in minutes we were friends for the night. Brother and sister Sara and Joel were from Quebec and just minutes before me had done the same thing, asking to join Emil from Toronto and his cousin Marc. Everyone was leaving the next day except Marc, because he lived in Amsterdam. After a few rounds, it was clear we were going to make the most of our last hours in the city. Marc offered to show us more local spots and we gladly accepted.
The only problem. They all had bicycles and I had returned mine. Could I hitch a ride? Marc was the local and the best rider. I jumped on his back fender and we raced back to the city, past the docks and the train station, up the tourist-filled streets around the Sex Museum, and into the Muntplein. It wasn’t as comfortable as the back of a Vespa, but just as entertaining.
We ate dinner, then made plans to regroup after showers and rest. At 11 pm, we met at the Bulldog hostel in the Red Light district and let Marc lead the way – through the Dam into the Jordaan and into the west suburbs to a local pool hall. We didn’t play, but had some beers before deciding to go to a dance club. As we exited we smelled smoke then saw three fire engines race past. Should we go see what was happening? No. We went the opposite direction, this time Sara was my chauffer, but in seconds I was yelling – “The street is a wall!”
A canal bridge had opened up to let three sailboats through.
We were off again, completing our circle of the city at the Leidseplein. Amsterdam dance clubs are lost in the 90s and we laughed and danced to the music from the past. By 3 am, I had to leave and walked the short distance back to my hostel for a few hours of sleep before my long trip home.
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Tags: amsterdam, netherlands, transportation
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