logicbutton (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
logicbutton) wrote2005-05-20 05:48 pm
logicbutton) wrote2005-05-20 05:48 pm
Back now.
I was going to go to Hamburg, but couldn't get reservations there, so just stayed an extra day in Amsterdam and then came back to Freiburg early. But that's okay, for two reasons: I can afford Freiburg much more easily, and really, it's just nice to be back. Seriously, I'm perfectly happy just being here, and I'm not the only one; upon coming back from wonderful trips around Europe, several of us in the program have been known to step off the bus or train and say, "It's so good to be home!"
But you know what? Amsterdam was awesome. And that's what I'm really posting about.
So the first thing I noticed was just what an international city it was. The second thing I noticed was the smell that seemed to be everywhere, which I usually hate (a lot of people are surprised to hear that I hate it, which I don't understand--it would certainly be much more counterintuitive to hate, say, the smell of baking cookies) but which I knew I'd just get used to, especially staying in a hostel. Anyway, these observations led me to my first conclusion, which I still hold: Amsterdam is the land of pot and asbestos, yo.
Happily, since I spent no money on the former, I was able to blow quite a bit more on the latter. And I did, between the two Chinese import stores in the city center and this market I just happened to run across outside the Rembrandt house. I don't imagine there's anywhere else in the world with a higher concentration of asbestos. Except maybe China. Anyway, at the market I got this shirt, if you can call it a shirt, that I'm planning to wear sometime during Black Cat, because that's when exhibitionism is encouraged at Agnes Scott. I can hear Dr. Lewin now: "Oh, Diana! I see you've forgotten to get properly dressed this morning!"*
Oh, and the sex. There's a lot of sex stuff, such as the sex museum (which has an admission fee of only two and a half euros) and the red-light district, which I walked through at night with my parents, at their suggestion. I also have a relevant photo to link, the only picture I took on the whole trip actually, of one particular establishment that happened to be just down the street from my hostel.
My computer's backlight is being even more temperamental today than usual, so rather than continue making my arms sore from holding it upside down and shaking it vigorously every five minutes, I'm just going to end this. But really, I was just going to ramble incoherently anyway, probably about how it turns out that Van Gogh invented fanboy Japanese (this is true!) but seemed like a really cool guy anyway, or something.
The end.
*She really does say this to people, and she will say it to me too.
But you know what? Amsterdam was awesome. And that's what I'm really posting about.
So the first thing I noticed was just what an international city it was. The second thing I noticed was the smell that seemed to be everywhere, which I usually hate (a lot of people are surprised to hear that I hate it, which I don't understand--it would certainly be much more counterintuitive to hate, say, the smell of baking cookies) but which I knew I'd just get used to, especially staying in a hostel. Anyway, these observations led me to my first conclusion, which I still hold: Amsterdam is the land of pot and asbestos, yo.
Happily, since I spent no money on the former, I was able to blow quite a bit more on the latter. And I did, between the two Chinese import stores in the city center and this market I just happened to run across outside the Rembrandt house. I don't imagine there's anywhere else in the world with a higher concentration of asbestos. Except maybe China. Anyway, at the market I got this shirt, if you can call it a shirt, that I'm planning to wear sometime during Black Cat, because that's when exhibitionism is encouraged at Agnes Scott. I can hear Dr. Lewin now: "Oh, Diana! I see you've forgotten to get properly dressed this morning!"*
Oh, and the sex. There's a lot of sex stuff, such as the sex museum (which has an admission fee of only two and a half euros) and the red-light district, which I walked through at night with my parents, at their suggestion. I also have a relevant photo to link, the only picture I took on the whole trip actually, of one particular establishment that happened to be just down the street from my hostel.
My computer's backlight is being even more temperamental today than usual, so rather than continue making my arms sore from holding it upside down and shaking it vigorously every five minutes, I'm just going to end this. But really, I was just going to ramble incoherently anyway, probably about how it turns out that Van Gogh invented fanboy Japanese (this is true!) but seemed like a really cool guy anyway, or something.
The end.
*She really does say this to people, and she will say it to me too.