Step 1: Hitch Hike to Amsterdam

21 March 2009 - 23 March 2009

"But isn't there like a lot of water in between London and Amsterdam??"

Dad was rightly concerned about this unavoidable obstacle in my trek to Amsterdam. The English Channel is no match for technology though; the Chunnel not withstanding, there are no less than 5 ferry departure points in England headed for the continent, and the one we headed for is in Dover where ferries run every half hour to Calais in France. Now that we had one strategic problem solved... we had to get rides!

Before I begin the epic journey that included a fair share of slightly disconcerting and totally non-English rides on the 350 adventure to the land of wooden shoes and windmills, I should probably tell you why.

I got involved with an group on campus called Raising and Giving (RAG) early in the year. Basically their MO is self-explanatory: raise money, and give it away. They do stunts like skydiving, pub crawls, and hitch hikes - along with standing outside with buckets in busy areas - to get money for pre-ordained charities. Charities are chosen in the first meeting of the year by vote among the RAG constituents to ensure legal viability and some other stuff that I'm not totally sure about. Anyway, I approached RAG to do my Lose the Shoes Soccer (Football, here) Tournament and that's how I got involved.

When they declared a charity hitch-hike race to Amsterdam, there was no way I wasn't going to be a part.

My team was tri-national: I am American (duh), Jess is English, and Alison is French. From the beginning we were worried about a three-person team's chances versus our competition working in 2-man teams, but the rules of the hitch prohibit girls from traveling together because they're silly and weak compared to Us Strong and Intelligent Men. OK that was mean, but I think the real reasons are self-explanatory.

Great preparations were involved, including a list of cities on the way to Amsterdam, the creation of a giant banner, and a pre-hitch meal with multiple drinks at the local pub. Needless to say, we were more than prepared when it came time to stick our thumbs out.

Upon departure at 7:00am, I was quickly out maneuvered in strategy as the girls favored a train-based approach to our first destination. Charing Cross Rail Station employees were more than willing to let us hop on the next train to Dover, so we technically did not break the "don't spend any money" rule. Once at Dover, however, our problems became magnified.

Apparently we were not the only team that had opted for a train ride, and on the single road leading to the ferry docks, it suddenly became quite competitive. Our group size automatically precluded us from attracting the attention of cars with more than 1 person in them, but we managed to flag down a ride after nearly an hour and a half... just to see him pull over down the road and let our competition jump into the car! We were devastated, but it was still early and we were determined not to give up. It seemed at times that the higher we held our banner, the stiffer we made our thumbs, it would attract a ride.

Finally, Johann from Ghent picked us up and took us onto the ferry. He promised to take us all the way to Ghent - about 2 hours from Calais - if we couldn't find a better ride on board. He wasn't the greatest driver (which was apparent even in the 2.5 minute drive to the loading docks) but it was better than nothing and he turned out to be a nice guy. We loaded onto the ferry around 11:30 beginning to feel tired, but still with high spirits.

Early in the ferry ride, we were approached by a scruffy bearded man who apparently had seen our poster, asking if we were going to Amsterdam. We said yes, and he offered to take us to Antwerp - nearly 2 hours further than Ghent. Happily accepting his ride and our good fortune, lunch suddenly tasted much better.

It turned out that this bearded man who at first seemed creepy was probably the nicest guy that we met. He happened to be quite knowledgeable about Belgium, the Netherlands, and Europe in general, and being Belgian and Flemish, insisted many times that Belgium was much better than everywhere else - England, France, Germany, Italy, and Spain being his main focus. In all he was quite the nice man, good for conversation, and he drove us for 4 hours all the way to Antwerp! Not too shabby.

Having been dropped at a service station we now faced the reality of finding a new ride, but we had such a good experience that our hope was boundless. In only 5 minutes we were approached by a car and asked, apparently in Flemish, if we needed a ride to Amsterdam. The guy in the car switched to English when I asked him to, and we asked if they could take us to Breda, the next stop on our list. He said they weren't going to Amsterdam, but they could definitely take us to Breda. Amazing.

Or not. Turks are not particularly liked in Germany - which we were quite close to - and I think we may have gotten an idea of one of the reasons why. The new car we were in had tinted windows, shiny rims, and two Turks inside. These men spoke very little English and struggled to talk to us in between their incessant babbling in Turkish. They reminded me of the guidos on the Jersey shore - another minority group not particularly well received by any but the most tolerant locals.

In any case, the driver was going at a clip comparable to the space shuttle without paying particularly close attention to the road. And when we reached a fork in the road - the left side reading Breda and the right side reading Eindhoven - guess which we he took us? That's right, Eindhoven. Check your maps people, Eindhoven is NOT on the way to Amsterdam. Team Holy Herbs (that's us) were alerted of this course change about -10 seconds in advance. We were slightly upset, and also a little scared at this point, so we had them let us off at the next service station, somewhere in the Netherlands.

Bad move number two. This area of the Netherlands apparently has no automobile traffic after dark, and it was quickly approaching dark and looking less and less likely we'd find a ride. Luckily, after 45 minutes of harassing every single car that came to fill up, Jess convinced two Dutch kids to take us with them to Eindhoven. They also did not speak English, but were about our age and headed for the PSV Eindhoven football match, so you know they must be cool. And as an added bonus, they informed us that the train station was located only a short walk from the stadium. After the hour's drive it was quite late, and we were all quite tired, so we made the collective decision to ride the train the rest of the way, figuring a ride to Amsterdam by car would be a rare commodity at this hour. Again, the conductor was a nice enough fellow to let us on for the price of On the House, and we arrived in Amsterdam a little after 10 in the evening.

All told, a mere 15 hours to cross 3 borders and arrive in the Pot Capital of the World.

And yes, it really is the pot capital of the world. We opted not to party that evening in favor of the following nights, but I ventured out with my friend Ben (one of the other hitch hikers... there were 50 in total!) through the Red Light District and it was definitely an... interesting place. But the point I was trying to make was that marijuana is prevalent everywhere in the city; there are "coffee shops," which is a fancy way of saying "weed stores," in nearly every alleyway and you can smell pot on every street corner ostensibly coming from the apartment windows above you or even the people walking ahead of you. The Holy Herb, from which our team got its name, is everywhere.

Unfortunately, Amsterdam's two main attractions (besides the Red Light District) are both rather expensive and have insanely long lines you must wait in. We managed to get into the Van Gogh museum which was a real treat. Starry Night and Sunflowers are much better in person, and his numerous self-portraits and seemingly endless number of peasant-inspired works were all quite good to look at. Worth the 12 euros.

I did not get to the Anne Frank house because the line was simply too long, and I had a shorter visit than my cohorts because of my imminent travel plans. However, I did get to wander around Amsterdam which is a remarkably beautiful city. I feel it's gotten a bad reputation for its relaxed attitude towards drugs, but it really is one of the gems of Europe. Situated in the center of a number of concentric canals, the scenic bridges and walkways that lie under seemingly falling buildings is quite a sight to see. Because Amsterdam - indeed most of the Netherlands - lies below sea level, the houses and buildings are built on an angle and fitted with a giant hook on the roof. When the city floods, or flooding is imminent, these hooks provide to be a wonderful pulley to lift furniture from the lower floors into the upper floors... and because the building is "leaning," sofas and the like won't crash into the side of the building. Brilliant!

A closer inspection of the Red Light District simply got the lot of us invited into a number of different peep shows and sex shows that none of us was willing to pay for, but I must say that it was all quite professional and, actually, clean. Apparently the whole industry is regulated by the government and there are strict standards to prevent disease and STDs. While I can't say from experience, what I did see seemed like it was cleanly. Also, a man hopped out of one of the stalls and began walking in front of us, before turning and asking for a cigarette. I thought that was funny.

Amsterdam is a very, very interesting place. It is a beautiful city, and the home of some great museums, but it certainly wouldn't have been the same experience, and certainly not the same city without its less admirable traits. I liked it though, and I'd enjoy going back, especially in summer. It was a tad bit nippy while I was there, and I feel that if the whole city was in bloom it would add to the beauty.

Definitely go to Amsterdam. Maybe not to live permanently, but a visit is well worth it.

Next Stop: Roma!