First Trip To Amsterdam: Part 3 of 3
Followed by more fast threatening dutch. I think it meant, "I'll kill you if you don't stop, moron"
I turned right. Walked faster
I turned left and disappeared like the wind in the dark. I was glad that my poor broken exhausted legs were still able to move so quickly after walking for close to 20 hours over a two day period. I learned my next lesson: if you feel like running, then run. It feels good to still be alive.
The next day was also interesting. I started with breakfast in a nearby back street and watched a group of four British men drinking beer with their fried English breakfast and remembered their demanding, rude behaviour and made a note to remember to make a big deal of saying "danke well" to the waiter at the end of my meal. Having been a bit dismissive of me previously, presumably for being yet another tourist, he became warm and more friendly.
"Excuse me, can you tell me whereabouts I am on the map please?"
I unfolded my northern half of the map, while they looked puzzled.
"However....." I pointed to the space of air beneath my half a map, "I think I'm around here somewhere." They laughed. "Or am I here? or here?" I queried, pointing to air around the edge of my map. "I just wondered where roughly"
They pointed to a space a long way away from my half of a map, "erm, about here, where do you want to go to anyway?" they asked,
"erm....the North" HAHAHAHAHAHA global laughter
"Can you tell me which direction is due north please?"
"Good, then that is the way I shall go! Thank you very much!" We laughed some more and off I went,
due North, very unlike Constable Benton Fraser of the Mounties.
After ten minutes of walking I spotted a girl standing in the middle of a road and more importantly than the girl, I noticed that she seemed to be lost and was looking at a map.
"Hi, I see you have a whole map...could I look at it please?"
"Yes, of course"
"Do you know where you are?"
"NO! Do you?"
"Not really. Are you Polish?"
"What? Are you joking?"
"No. Are you polish?" I asked again
"Why do you ask?"
"Because you sound Polish"
"Yes, I am, how did you know?"
"Just a feeling. Do you also like mountains, walking, rivers and potatoes?"
"What? Who are you?"
"Is it true?"
So a long conversation followed and eventually we walked together to a place somewhere in some direction of there, and had a couple of drinks, and then I walked her back to her hotel (back to within the range of my map) and then back to my own hotel. She had told me a story of how her brother had died a year before and that his ghost sometimes visits her.
That was most of the fun, until it was time to get to the airport. After a few weird moments of boredom at the train station (my train left at 5am), I made it to the airport, where I was asked to take off my belt at security. Whilst doing so I remembered why I had not wanted to wear the black jeans again and saw the creamy-looking peanut butter stain in the region of my crotch. Great.
I made it through security and rushed to the toilet, where I sat, did my business and then leaned forwards to clean my trousers..... ducking beautifully beneath the sensor behind the toilet, which then gave my genitals a shower with recently soiled, dirty, toilet water.
And that concluded my trip to Amsterdam.