honestly Amsterdam...

It'd been almost 5 years since I'd first landed in Amsterdam, by myself, that summer in 2006.

I remember taking that train from Paris Nord Station into Amsterdam's Central Station. I recall being lost for nearly an hour looking for my hotel, which was farther away than intended from the downtown area. In 48 hours, I'd navigated the Van Gogh Museum, Canal Ride, Coffee Shop, and Red Light District. Again, from that first trip I told people that if you go to Amsterdam, make it part of a bigger trip. you can do everything you want to do in Amsterdam in about three days. Back there this past Sunday, I have to say that I think that point should be emphasized even more. I don't know if its me being 27, or me not being a weed smoker, or just my utter exhaustion that led to me falling asleep on my bags in the middle of Central Station, but I really kind of disconnected from Amsterdam.

Don't get me wrong, it still remains a beautiful city, full of waterways, and amazing European architecture. But damn, I think I forgot just how much this city is really just wrapped around smoking weed, popping 'shrooms, and sex. Ok, sex fine. (I'm just sayin') But I was walking around at 8am and I already smelled alleys filled with marijuana before I could even wipe the crust out of my own eyes. I don't get it, and maybe I just won't because that's not my thing. The prostitutes at that hour were 50+, yes in age.

After my homeless backpacker nap at the train station, I linked up with the friend of a Nomad•ness faithful, Fabianna. He took my to the beautiful public library downtown, and we re-did the Red Light District and Chinatown. Little did I know that he'd be the black mail photographer of my Amsterdam trip. Again, my first trip there I did alone for the fact that I didn't want anyone judging what I did while there. Now, I had someone with evidence. Moreso than anything I looked at there, it was just that I looked a mess running on 2 hours of sleep. But Amsterdam will wake you up. That's for damn sure. I'm sure I'll be back again, but for now....I'm good.

Where apparently the women put bananas inside of themselves. Guys can peel and eat. Bon appetit.

And my favorite below....

The "Big Dick Rabbit" I swear that is their name.

Photo by Chris.

Photo by Chris.

on a stage in Amsterdam...

If you're in Amsterdam, check out Shannon Artist at The Sand performing in Disco Legends. She's celebrating almost 30 years on stage! Support!

March 25-26th

Amsterdam to Paris, and the conversations in between...

 

(Old School Evie. Fifty pounds heavier than present day. Crazy)

So, I got off the train at Paris-Nord Station and was invigorated by the hefty conversation I'd just had on art, Basquiat, Brooklyn and world travels with the three gentlemen I'd met on the train. One from LA, another from Holland, and the other from Canada. They represented many of my experiences I'd have over the years, traveling. It's the connection with strangers, on random trains, that make the experience all worth while. Once the train stopped we knew we'd never talk to each other ever again. We didn't go through the empty promises of wanting to exchange information and promise to keep in touch. We knew exactly what the purpose was for our meeting, and exactly where it was supposed to end. Here, on this platform in France. I knew I'd never forget them. I haven't.

When I arrived back at the apartment, Brittany had left a message for me. "Take the Purple line from Commerce to the Grand Boulevards stop. We'll be at ___ bar. We're watching the World Cup. You can't miss it. It's huge right when you get out of the station."

"Great!" After arriving back to Paris I wanted to chill, not attempt navigating a new Metro system at 8pm (excuse me 20:00) on my own. I was a good sport though and went anyway.

Expecting to have to search far and wide, I was not in store for what I walked into exiting Grand Boulevards.

It was a mass exodus of people unlike anything I'd ever seen before. People flooded the streets everyone, celebrating. Kegs were brought from inside the bar, to outside on the streets and it was a city wide celebration. Cars couldn't move because of people. I tried to imagine something like this in the States, let alone New York. The cops would have fired shots, arrests would have been made, an no happiness would have gone unshattered. Why are we like that here? We are so fucking tense.

Before my eyes, thousands of people flooded the streets.

I turned to Brittay and asked, "Wow, so did they win?"

She answered, "No they made it to the semi-finals."

"What!? Then what the hell happens if they win?"

penis, pot, and perspective: Amsterdam (NSFW)

So, my Mac does this really annoying thing where it automates the "Mail" application that comes with the laptop when I click on a site to email someone, yet I do all my emailing through Gmail. Any who, I usually ignore it and close the App. Today I didn't and I realized the sole, lone, email that I ever attempted to send through it was back in July of 2006.

It was filled with thirty-six photos of my trip from Paris to Amsterdam. A trip that I have since lost most photos of, if they were shot digitally.

This was my first REAL trip and this is where it all began! Six weeks after graduating from college, I moved all my shit to Paris and within twenty-four hours upon landing, I took a train to Amsterdam for a weekend alone. A very interesting, intruiging weekend I must say. Glad I did the first trip to Amsterdam alone. Ahh the photos don't give it justice. Now that I've found this memory bank, there will be more!

All I can say is that that weekend would have been one hell of a Nomad•ness episode!