From Berlin to Amsterdam, and Jeremiah’s horrible luck.

I realize I still have to write about Austria, Czech Republic, southern Germany, Spain, and Italy, but this trip is the latest and I just have to get it out of my head before I study for my Environmental Managing 2 exam that I have at noon tomorrow.

I wanted to travel somewhat by myself again after my trip to England alone.  However, I was especially sketched out to go to a place where little English was spoken when my previous experience in Munich, Germany proved our lack of language knowledge can hurt our savings accounts. (see future post about Munich) I did fly to Berlin alone, but I met my hilarious high school friend Derek Fobaire there this time.  He has been living in Germany for a few years now and had the acquired German fluency we needed.  We also stayed with his high school exchange student’s twin brother (phew), Flo, who put us up for two nights on his comfy pull-out couch.

I slept overnight at the airport on April 27th in Shannon, Ireland, which my friends and I all voted was the most comfortable airport of all the airports we had collectively slept in to save some cash.  There’s this cafe to the right of the check-in areas with big cushioned benches and dimmed lights that Tyler Liptack recommended to me, and I totally staked my territory when I waltzed into the airport at 11:30 pm of the 26th.  It’s like they made the benches with poor sleeping students like me in mind! Thanks Shannon Airport, you are the best! I put my Ipod earphones in as a block to the airport noises, as the other less savvy people paced around the airport into the early hours of the morning and the automatic doors swooshed open and closed. With my backpack as a somewhat comfortable pillow, I slept for probably a good 4-5 hours before my trip started.  It was a bit chilly, but I guess I couldn’t expect my over-sized sweater to protect me from the wrath of Ireland’s cold at night.  Overall, it was an experience that crushed my evening sleeping on the metal chairs of the Verona airport in Italy. (also, see future post of my Italian adventure)

I had a layover in London’s Stansted airport for the entire morning, which I spent sitting in the patio outside of the Krispy Kreme Doughnut stand, and I believe I even got some sun on my arms. First tan of the summer in England?? Yeah, right. It’s true though, I don’t think Italy even left a hint of sun on me. (Meanwhile, Jeremiah’s neck was barbecuing itself in the direct sunlight.)  In my boredom, I almost bought a travel-sized Hungry Hungry Hippos.  I imagined myself challenging random people on the plane to a hearty game of H.H. Hippos, but then quickly changed my mind when I saw the price tag.  If only the price was in dollars instead of pounds…

On the plane, I did end up making friends without the aid of H.H. Hippos.  A young Brazilian guy named Denis (I was confused as well; there are Brazilians named Denis??) and I chatted about the Brazilian tradition of Carnival and how my friend Cole Yancey is almost done with his two year mission in São Paulo, Brazil.  He was visiting his Brazilian friend Rodrigo, who was studying car design in one of the top design colleges in Berlin.  Derek had told me that he wasn’t arriving in Berlin from his flat in Lübeck until half past five, so the Brazilians invited me to hang out with them until then.  We took the German U-Bahn (“underground rapid transit,” or the German version of London’s Underground) to Rodrigo’s apartment, and then went to grab a snack at the nearby Brazilian restaurant.  How convenient for Rodrigo.  Basically, I was trying to read a Brazilian food menu, which was written in German, with two Brazilians.  Interesting.  I ate what I like to call a “taco pillow,” in that it was an enclosed fried shell filled with spiced mince meat.  It is called a Pastel de Carne;  however, the one I ate was considered a “wind pastel,” in that there was more air than meat inside the shell.  Oh Brazilians and their jokes.  Then, I ate something like a chicken doughnut, officially called a Coxinha, which at this point I have no idea how it was pronounced.  It was a ball of chicken pieces covered by a crusty dough-like shell, and it was pretty darn tasty.  At this point, Derek called me to let me know he was in the vicinity and we should meet up.  I bid my Brazilian friends farewell, after they gave me a recommendation to visit an upside-down bar where all the furniture was on the ceiling.

Here is the Brazilian snack "Coxinha" I ate with Denis and Rodrigo.

Derek and I reunited at the top of the U-Bahn stairs, in which we hugged and then he immediately pulled out a beer for me from his luggage.  Derek said,” Hey, I’m on vacation too and I want to celebrate!”  I haven’t seen Derek since our 2007 band trip to France after we graduated high school, and it was epic to have a drink with an old high school friend.  We went to his friend Flo’s flat, who took us out for the Berlin fast food of choice, Currywurst, which is basically sausage covered in a curry sauce.  Like most places in Europe, they also enjoy fries covered in mayonnaise, which I find revolting and ironic considering how Europeans view American food.  We then went to the grocery store to pick up some unique brands of beer for me to try, and of course I picked the ones with the most colorful labels like a German beer newbie.  I picked up one called Rothaus Pils, with a geometric stereotyped German beer lady on it.  As I Derek, Flo and I walked out of the store holding our beer, a random drunk street man came up to us and started babbling about how I shouldn’t drink that because it is a “Fascist beer.” That is all I caught, as he started spewing in German after that to Derek and Flo, who were trying to hold back a laugh and take his political advice on beer seriously.  We were so impressed with the rant that we bought the same brand the next night as well.

The so-called "Fascist Beer"

We ended up going to that bar with the upside-down furniture after all.  It was pretty cool, but the long walk there wasn’t.  On the way back, I was chilly with my dress on, so Flo offered me his pants.  He had a long jacket on, so it covered up his boxers and made him appear as if he was a flasher.  I put his cords on over my dress, so I looked goofy, but at least I wasn’t cold anymore.  We then stopped at a Turkish chicken take-out booth.  We didn’t know what to get, so we ordered an entire roasted chicken.  Imagine us, walking around Berlin with an entire chicken and Flo with no pants.  We couldn’t stop laughing, and overall it was a great evening.

The next day, Derek and I went on a free guided tour of Berlin, which ended up being the best tour I have ever been on.  The English-Italian-Indian tour guide was very animated the entire 3 and a half hour tour, and we ran into my silly Brazilian friends Rodrigo and Denis along the way.  We saw bullet-ridden and bombed buildings of the old East Berlin, which was the Soviet side of Berlin in the Cold War.  We walked through the haunting Holocaust memorial, which consists of hundreds of stone slabs arranged in a sort of stone labyrinth.  Among other things, we saw Soviet propaganda paintings, Nazi architecture, the remnants of the Berlin Wall, and a touristy staged Checkpoint Charlie, which was the famous American checkpoint between East Berlin and West Berlin.  It felt so powerful to be in a place where so much history of the past century happened.  We even stood in the grassy area above where Hitler’s bunker existed in World War II.  As I was born in 1988, it was weird to think that I was alive when all this was happening.  Maybe all this first-hand knowledge will help me appreciate the senior perspective class I’m taking next semester, called “The Bible and the Holocaust.”

After both Derek and the tour guide explained what the infamous Ampelmann symbol was, I had to buy something from the Ampelmann store.  In the old East Berlin, the traffic walking symbol consisted of a small man with a hat walking instead of the normal walk/don’t walk electric sign.  When the Berlin Wall came down in 1989, there was an attempt to change all traffic signs to that of the Western kind.  The East Germans protested, saying that if the West Germans took everything, at least leave them their beloved Ampelmann.  I ended up buying a green canvas Ampelmann bag and I’ll be displaying it at the beach all summer.

AMPELMANN !!!

That night, Derek, Flo and I made a delicious hand-made salad and each had another “Fascist beer.”  Flo took us to a German bar with a huge outdoor patio overshadowed by large willow trees.  We sat out pretzel-style on the floating wooden platforms in front of the patio on a river while loud tunes and lights swirled around us. However,  we were tired from the long tour earlier, and Flo had things to do the next day, so we went home early and hit up Burgermeister on the way home.  I didn’t get to hit up the secret warehouse techno clubs complete with fog as my Minnesotan buddy Dave Norman described, but I don’t think I could have danced until 9 AM anyways.  Berlin was a blast and a half, and I’m glad Derek and I got to catch up and reminisce about France trip 2007.  Flo was a great host and I hope I run into him again someday.

Amsterdam. How do I describe it to somebody who hasn’t been there?  I guess it is Europe’s Las Vegas, but with a bazillion times more drugs and sex.  I took a 6 hour train ride from Berlin to Amsterdam on that Thursday  morning, where I met a stereotypical retired British lady having the best time of her life, living from holiday to holiday.  She lives in Germany, but was on her way to meet her Dutch boyfriend south of Amsterdam.  They are planning a trip next year where they are taking his yacht from the Belgium coast to the Caribbean.  No big deal, right?  Along the way, I saw absolutely no windmills, and I was extremely disappointed, but stereotypes often are.  I did spot a few fields of bright yellow flowers as my train zoomed by on a beautiful day in Holland.  (The British lady tried to explain that the term Holland is widely accepted although it really only describes a part of The Netherlands.)

I think I chose the wrong time to visit Amsterdam for the first time, as Queen’s Day is the biggest celebration all year.  It is a day to celebrate the old Queen’s birthday, dress in obnoxious amounts of orange, participate in selling anything anywhere on the street, and party.  This is a city where they have to set up “pee protectors,” which are pieces of metal attached to corners and niches of buildings that are supposed to prevent damage caused by those who chose to participate in public urination.  They also are created to splash the urine back at the person to dissuade them from peeing at all in that area.  I’m pretty sure an intoxicated person wouldn’t care either way, but sure go for it Amsterdam.

I mean, I admit I chose to go to Amsterdam on purpose for Queen’s Day, but there were insane amounts of people that made it difficult to move in some areas.  The night before Queen’s Day is Queen’s Night (so clever), and everybody stays up to unearthly hours and parties how Dutch people do.  We didn’t have the best Thursday night, as after the shenanigans of the evening ended, we ran into a drunk dutch man when the boys were walking me back to my friend Carine’s place (which was unfortunately a 25 minute walk from their hostel).  I was staying at Carine Middeldorp’s apartment because I wanted to see all my Nuts Frisbee team friends from the Siege of Limerick tournament earlier in the semester (see earlier post) and save some money since it was ridiculously expensive to stay anywhere on Queen’s Day.  So we were just minding our own business, when this drunk guy comes up to us, points to Jeremiah and says “Did you just say “ay!? to me??” when we had no idea what he was talking about.  Our friend Brian (if you haven’t caught on by now, I met up with Jeremiah and Brian in Amsterdam) realized that another random guy had yelled the threatening “ay,” and tried to explain to the Dutch man that it wasn’t Jeremiah, but it was too late.  After he yelled something in Dutch at Jeremiah, he punched Jeremiah in the face.  When I say punched, it was more like a really hard slap to his eye, so it still hurt but didn’t break his nose or anything.  We were all astounded at what happened as the man turned his back on us and walked away, and weren’t ready when the man turned around, smacked Jeremiah on the other side of his face, and disappeared.  The drunk guy was clearly looking for a fight for no reason, and we weren’t about to waste time on him.  I mean, I clearly should have used some ninja moves or pulled out some nun-chucks, but this guy was clearly not worth it.  Sorry Jeremiah, is it still too soon to joke about it? He had two black eyes for a week and a half, and had to surprise his parents with that when they came to visit Ireland last week.  I am grateful that they walked me back both nights to Carine’s place even though it was kind of a hassle.  Thanks boys.

In the morning hours of Queen’s Day, anybody is allowed to sell whatever they want on the streets of Amsterdam, like a gigantic garage sale.  I ate some delicious mini pancakes with my Nuts Frisbee team friends, and then continued on exploring with Jeremiah, while Brian was on his own.  There was non-stop techno music blasting from every other house and bar, so my brain was on overload from all the music meshing together into one.  People were wearing the most ridiculous orange outfits, and I looked like a cross between Willy Wonka and that crazy crystal ball professor from Harry potter.  Carine let Jeremiah wear her orange bucket hat that had a Dutch saying “Ga Je Mee” on it, which means “go along with me” in Dutch, and he looked quite handsome in it. (haha)

People were dancing everywhere.  On a balcony, in the park, on the street, in the bars and ON THE BOATS.  There are many canals in Amsterdam, and everybody who owned a boat was on it, plus some.  Boats blasted techno music, and people dressed in orange and other costumes jiggled out on the water and under bridges, waving to anyone along the way.  I saw a whole boat full of fake costumed cops, like it was some sort of odd stripper police party.  At one point, I saw that some people were in the water because their boat broke, and people were trying to lift them out of the canal.  Did I mention that there are open public male urinals that run right into the canal?  Nobody wants to be caught swimming in that.

The boats were overflowing with techno and orange.

We met up with Brian later (and by met up, I mean found because Brian’s phone was taken from him in Rome…another story, another day) and decided to go to the free open air concert by the world’s favorite DJ, Tiesto himself.  He is Dutch, so giving a free concert to his people came in handy to us, a trio of Americans.  By the way, earlier Jeremiah and I had tried to see Ray & Anita, which is the Dutch eurodance duo otherwise known as 2 Unlimited.  If you remember Jock Jams from the 90′s, you would remember jams like “Get Ready For This” and “No Limit.”  My athletic childhood memories come to mind, with basketball camps and watching Space Jam too many times.  We may have seen them, but we were too far away from the stage to tell, and we arrived late so we didn’t recognize any songs.  It will always be a mystery.

Jeremiah and I on Queen's Day.

Anyways, Tiesto was magnificent, and Jeremiah and I danced hardcore.  Brian left because he doesn’t “like techno.”  Psshh.  He missed out on the dance party of the century.  Later that night, we met up with our Belgian friend Jeron, who we met in Rome, and he brought along his friend John Paul.  Jeremiah walked me back with no violent surprises this time, thank goodness.

On Saturday morning, Carine and I ate breakfast together at a local cafe and got to chat about various things.  She went to high school in South Africa, which definitely raised her bad ass rating.  I thanked her for her hospitality and met up with Jeremiah and Brian so we could go to the Anne Frank house.  It was shocking to see a book I read in childhood come to life, and the solitude she had to endure to stay alive.  It was such a shame that she died in the concentration camp a few weeks before liberation.

Jeremiah and I got on the train to Brussels, Belgium in the evening, and accidentally left Brian in Amsterdam (again, he had no phone), but we figured he could find his own way.  Brian is a pretty independent guy, I mean, he IS from New York.  I’m surprised he didn’t plant any American flags in Amsterdam along the way like he said he was going to do all over Europe.  This is where Jeremiah had bad luck: part 2.  Our flight out of Brussels wasn’t leaving until 7:30 AM and we didn’t want to pay for a hostel, so we figured we would just hang out until the earliest bus left the city for the airport, which was at 4 AM.  The boys had spent the first part of their trip in Brussels and Antwerp with the Belgian boys we met from Rome (while I was in Berlin), so Jeremiah knew his way around.  We grabbed a snack and sat down in the main square with our backpacks at about 1 AM, and there were a ton of people out partying still, and the area was perfectly lit so we were should have been perfectly safe.  A group of Belgian guys approached us and started talking to us, and we assumed they were friendly.  One guy was asking where I was from, as I was obviously not from there with my backpack next to me.  I glanced over to Jeremiah, and one of the guys was “drunkenly” hugging him (who knows if he was actually drunk or not) and then we see another guy reach in between and grab Jeremiah’s backpack and disappear.  Jeremiah ran after him but it was too late.  Luckily, they didn’t take my bag, and Jeremiah had all his essentials on him in his jacket.  Jeremiah only ended up losing his camera charger, some clothes (but only a few shirts and underwear as he had layered like 3 shirts on in the rainy weather), his backpack, and his…plane ticket.  We weren’t too worried as we knew people who have re-printed out their ticket at the airport.  Unfortunately, Jeremiah’s bad luck increased when we got to the airport, because they made him pay 40 euro to replace his paper ticket that he originally only paid probably 20 euro for.

Basically, Jeremiah got railed by the Benelux countries.  He said it was great the rest of the time though…