Amsterdam Travel Blog› entry 4 of 20 › view all entries
And so the long awaited Amsterdam.
We were once again dropped ages out of the centre of town but being as well-travelled as we were, we were able to find our way into the centre- Dam square. This is where it got a little harder. Trace had decided it was a good idea to not write the address of the hostel down. More of a challenge really than a problem. We wandered up and down what we thought was the right street but upon the fourth go we decided to ask for directions. The people we asked had no clue but pointed us in some other direction and lo and behold, there was Bob's Youth Hostel just parallel to where we were.
Now Bob's YH. What a shithole. I mean it. We first had to find our way though the clouds of smoke to the reception to where some doped out bloke behind the counter gave us our key. Next was the hike up the four floors which was reminiscent of the stairs of the Belfry. Yet again the thighs got a work out. The room was quite nice, um, except for the death defying bunks with no ladders and the mattresses on the floor with the whacked out guys passed out on them. Bob was really getting his money's worth of the space. The first night I thought trace was gonna fall straight thru the top bunk which didn't actually seem to be attached to the bunk.
At the last minute we decided to go on a bar crawl that night before Dom, Rogan and James got there the next day. Made a dash into the city and made it just in time for some warm beer which tasted like VB. All the bars were dance bars which unfortunately we had not dressed for. We had decided to don the more warm attire and boy was it hot. Met some crazy people for bulgaria. Trace was very disappointed to leave the "soooo hot" egyptian because they were having such a good "conversation". This converation extended to 'hello' and a lot of shuffling to the music. The last bar was some aussie bar in which they had decided not only to recreate the red glow of the country but also the temperature. Fuck it was hot. So much so that we had to leave stopping by the Frites stand (freakin good chips) and asking a policeman for the directions home.