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Hi All,
From Prague I got a night bus across Germany to Amsterdam. The biggest stress of the whole journey was finding the bloody bus depot. I got a train from the centre of town to where I was told the bus depot was. However, when I got there I was underground and nobody spoke enough English to help me find the depot. As I wandered from exit to exit to became rapidly apparent that I may not be at the correct station and had 10 minutes in which to find the depot, buy my ticket and find the bus. The stress levels were starting to get the better of me and in the end I just decided to go for broke and chose the closest exit and find a cab.
In my search for a cab I found the bus depot. The place was totally hidden and had not one single sign pointing it out. So with only minutes I ran and got my ticket and found my bus. When I go to the stop I recognised some people from my earlier train from the city. I wanted to know did they have the same trouble or was I just stupid. Thankfully, they all went through the same process of wandering around the station and getting ever different directions from those that spoke any English. Needless to say, the bus was 20 minutes late!
When I got on the bus it was almost full with a group of school girls. Now, I know some of you reading this will be thinking something you shouldn't so let me end that thought and tell you that they were all young and bloody annoying. Each of them had taken up two seats and so they were spread out over the entire bus and proceeded to talk to each other over the length of the bus.As much as this was annoying I knew that it would stand to me. Let me explain why. I was able to get one of the last double seats and knew that as the bus filled up the girls would not want to be sitting next to some stranger and would move to sit with a friend. So as the trip went on more and more seats became available and I was never disturbed.
From memory the trip was only 12 hours or so and got me into Amsterdam fairly early in the morning. Rach had booked us an apartment in the city and so I wandered the streets until it was an okay time to go knocking on somebody's door.
When we were looking for hostels in the city there was nothing that had availability for our duration and so we Rach looked into other alternatives. One of Rach's friends and her husband were joining us so we were going to stay on a barge but we were staying longer and so the cost and location became a negative for that option. In the end she found a great apartment that somebody used as an office Mon-Fri but let it out on the weekends. It was a great place and cost us less than a hotel ad we had full freedom in the place.
After three weeks of running around staying in hostels and sleeping on friends floors it was great to have our own place. The location was great as well, it was just around the corner from Ann Franks house and 10 minutes stroll to the city centre.
Amsterdam is a beautiful old city and all the canals make it quite a romantic place. Ever since I was a kid I had always wanted to go and see the van Gogh museum. My dad had subscribed to a journal called the Great Artists and as a kid I love looking through the journals and reading all about the artists. As I got older I became more and more interested and studied art and art history for 5 years. My favourite artist was always van Gogh. His life was plagued with challenges' and his artistic ability was never recognised during his life - he only ever sold one painting.
So I had always wanted to go and see his museum in Amsterdam, so that was top of my list of things to see. Obviously the coffee shops and the red light district were a very close second and third.
Rach had been to Amsterdam twice before but she was cool about going to some of the things she had already seen. When she was there previously she went to the van Gogh museum but had had a cup of interesting mushroom tea and didn't last long and so she was more than happy to go back and see it again for the first time.
Across from the van Gogh museum is Bolls House. Bolls make all the flavoured liqueurs that go into cocktails and although you may not know the name chances are that you have tried one or two of their products. They do a sensory self guided tour that is quite cool. The best bit is that you get a great cocktail of your choice at the end. It is good fun as they have a padded room that you can practice your flairing (throwing bottles around), record it and email it to people. As we were the last people of the day the bartenders did us a couple of drinks and allowed us to try some of the original Bolls products. When we walked out the door I have to say I had a bit of a buzz.
We did the usual thing of having a look around the red light district. It has the feel of a modern museum to it as everyone is walking around looking at the exhibits. What I found funny were the groups of guys. You could see that they all pretty much wanted to sample what was on offer but none of them had the confidence to be the first one to say it in case they get slagged off by their friends. So they wander around just all trying to convince each other to be the first. Once the seal is broken you know they will all go for it.
We walked past one group and I heard a guy saying that he had "forgotten" something at the last bar and had to go back for it. His mates said they would wait but he was adamant that they continue and he would meet them up later. It was quite funny hearing the excuses they were using to break away from their group to go and have some fun.
There are two types of coffee shops in Amsterdam, the cafes and the coffee shops. Each one caters to a different crowd, and all I can say is that there was no way I was going to Starbucks. It feels funny walking into a café and looking a menu purely for weed. I found the staff very knowledgeable and helpful when it came to making a selection. In fact it took longer to get a coffee and to get hold of some pot. Given that this site is open to the public and I may run for president of the world one day I shall let you decide what happened, but I did have a hot chocolate.
Walking around Amsterdam is really nice and so we spent a few hours wandering the streets dropping into little local bars eating and drinking along the way. Alongside seeing the museums and experiencing the real Dutch culture we wanted to see Ann Franks house. The day that we went there was a huge queue outside the building and just as we were about to join it the heavens opened. We decided to leave it and come back another day. Well, with all the fun we were having inside and outside of our apartment we completely forgot to go and only remembered on the way to the airport.
As we extended our trip in Amsterdam I only have one night in the UK before I flew out the next day. So we decided to stay with Rach's brother in London as it was the easiest thing to do. The original plan was the stay two nights in London before I flew out but we decided that Amsterdam was far nicer.
I spent my last day in London running around doing errands and catching up with some friends. It was quite a mad capped day but I got to see some good friends and do everything else that I needed to do.
When I got to London at the start of my trip I was surprised how I felt. I felt really happy that I was only a visitor and no longer a resident. I looked at all the people running around getting to work and felt sorry for them. They looked unhappy as if somebody had stolen their soul but they hadn't even realised, all of them marching to and from work without any signs of passion or vigour. It is something that I have seen in many cities but mostly in England. All of these people on the edge of Europe stuck without even knowing it.
You don't have to go to the other side of the world to get your soul back, just get out of the UK! If you want a real example of this look at an old person in the UK and compare them to anywhere else in Europe. They [UK pensioners] look like they are just waiting to die, whereas other Europeans still have that passion and spice for life.
The point I am making is that if I was ever to go back to Europe I don't think I could go back to London. I know that this is just my opinion and that many people are super happy in London, but I have come to realise that the life I have come to saviour would not work in England. Lets just hope my options allow me to make such decisions.
I also realise that I have no desire to go back home to Ireland. Even if I never go back I will always call it home. I love Ireland and the people but the economy has never been strong enough for me due to the sheer size of the country. NZ is no stronger but the life I have here would be near impossible to replicate at home.
As long as Nick (my brother) has a son born in Ireland than the Walsh name will continue with its Irish heritage. If not I will have to fly back home and find myself a woman and sort that situation out. Either that or get my future girlfriend/wife to fly to Ireland to have our kid.
On that note, I shall finish this postcard.
Until next time, Em
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