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I was excited to have the chance of a day trip to Amsterdam, immediately thinking of visiting Anne Frank's secret annex, the Van Gogh museum, and eating Dutch pancakes. However, things did not go quite according to plan... Dale and I farewelled Karen and Dave, who were off to Canada on a caravanning holiday, at Schipol airport and then we continued to Amsterdam. Unfortunately due to 'line maintenance' we had to catch a replacement bus service and then another train, so the entire journey door-to-door took us about 2 hours.
From there we walked down the grotty main street, full of fast food chains and shops selling junky souvenirs, past a strip joint already crowded with beer drinking punters and pole dancers, and into the heart of Amsterdam in search of pancakes. However, all we saw were grubby looking bars that had menus offering cooked English breakfasts and coffee shops of the kind for which Amsterdam is famous (and it's not for the coffee!). Eventually we came across a bright, modern corner cafe that looked out onto a canal. It didn't serve pancakes, but it did have Dutch apple pie served with what can only be described as lashings of whipped cream! We ordered coffee and shared a piece of this delicious homemade pie - a thick crust of golden short pastry filled with chunks of cooked apple, sprinkled with cinnamon and drizzled with a light caramel or toffee sauce (and of course that cream!) Ready to venture forth once again, I outlined the options to Dale of things to do. Turns out what he was most interested in seeing first was the red light district.
Seeing as it was a Saturday, the streets of the red light district were already busy with loud drunken British stag parties, costumed hens parties, groups of Asian men, a swarm of sailors, and tourists like us who were more spectators than participants - ranging from couples pushing prams to clusters of little old ladies. As expected, erotica shops were everywhere, as well as clubs and bars offering various forms of adult entertainment. There were also the notorious 'windows' where scantily clad women either sat bored looking at their fingernails, or posed suggestively, eying up potential clients.
We continued walking and discovered a Saturday morning market in full swing. Fruit, vegetables, breads and cheeses, as well as the largest selection of mushrooms I have ever seen! Further on we found another market - this one selling second hand goods ranging from clothes and books, to military memorabilia. We did a lap of the flower markets and made our way back towards the city centre in search of lunch. After much walking in circles, we found a promising looking cafe with chairs and tables in the sunshine. After sitting and ordering drinks, we sat, and sat, and sat, and sat. Half an hour later we had finished our drinks and still hadn't ordered any food. So we paid the bill, left, and returned to the farmers' market for some street food.
By this stage, we had both lost our enthusiasm for museums and so contented ourselves with another wander through the picturesque maze of streets and canals, slowly making our way back to the railway station.
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