This is a completely improvised, written as it happens blog post. I’ve never done one of these before so it is a bit of an experiment. I am currently sitting in the front room of a friend’s house in Amsterdam. He’s not here. He’s in Australia. Don’t worry. I’ve not broken in. I’m house sitting for him. It is 11:45 at night. My girlfriend is asleep downstairs and for the last 15 minutes I have been listening to someone in the street watching a very loud movie while I try to write another not so improvised blog post.
At least I assume they are watching a movie. Maybe they are just having a shoot-out/car chase/military incursion going on in their living room. Either way I have become too intrigued in trying to work out what movie they are watching to write what I was originally writing.
I’ve not worked out much about the movie so far but the plot seems to be something along the lines of; “Argh!” Bang! Bang! “Go, go, go!” Bang! Bang! “We have a situation here.” Bang! “Argh! Go, go, go!”
In fact, for the last 15 minutes someone in the movie has been shouting “go, go, go” every few seconds. It must be a very exciting action movie or they really have to go somewhere. Maybe they are very late for a meeting.
I think someone just gave a motivational speech but it’s hard to make out the words. The music was very motivational though and there was a lot of cheering at the end. Could it be Brave Heart? There was a very motivational speech in that movie. Were there any shoot-outs or car chases in Brave Heart? I’ve not seen it.
No wait… That was a roar. I just heard a roar. It must be a monster movie. That or I just heard a drunk tourist in the street… No, I think it is definitely a monster movie. Maybe dinosaurs if I had to make an educated guess.
Someone is shouting “go, go, go” again. They must be really late for that appointment.
I could swear I just heard the voice of Jar-Jar? It’s hard to tell above all the gun fire and screaming. It could have been Shawn Connery. Were they ever in a movie together? Maybe some kind of buddy cop movie?
There was a loud crash but that was not the movie. Someone just fell off their bike in the street.
Now I hear emotional music. I think someone just died. I hope it was Jar-Jar and not Shawn Connery.
And now a car alarm has been going off for the last 10 minutes. There is no way of me knowing how the Brave-Heart-Buddy-Cop-Late-For-Meeting-Monster-Movie ends now. It will be a mystery that will go forever unanswered and torment me till my grave. At least they were nice enough to let me and the rest of the street hear their movie.
I bid you all goodnight.
(Posted at 1:00am. This is what happens when I try to write when I should be sleeping)
It’s gay pride parade day today here in Amsterdam. A day when men and women of all preferences come together to celebrate diversity in sexuality by dancing to the Village People’s greatest hits while trying unsuccessfully to not to crash their canal boats into another group dancing to the greatest hit of The Weather Girls (and no, that’s not a euphemism).
It’s a great parade to check out even as a straight person. The city’s canals turn into one big party of music, dancing and feather bowers. However, it is maybe not a good idea to check it out as a straight person while wearing a t-shirt with the words ‘I Like Me’ written upon it in very large letters. As I discovered three years ago it’s all about context. On any other day of the year ‘I Like Me’ is a humorous T-shirt worn for simple amusement. However, on gay pride day ‘I Like Me’ becomes a T-shirt that unintentionally declares, “I’m here and I’m quire and I’m ok with that,” to other free and single male celebrators. Especially if you start throwing shapes to YMCA like I can never seem to stop myself doing.
So waking up in the morning and deciding to put on such a T-shirt when you know you are going to watch the gay pride parade (as I did) might not be the best informed choice to make even if it is nice to find out that you have options… a lot of options (as I did).
Crew Members Log:
Conditions on board the tour boat are harsh. We have been patrolling the canals of Amsterdam for 20 minutes now and supplies are running low. There are only two French audio guide books and none for the Japanese. Some of us are starting to wonder if we will ever see dry land again.
We just past the Oudezijds Achterburgwal, the oldest canal in Amsterdam and once home to 16 different convents and monasteries.
I’ve heard some of the men telling stories to pass the time, unnatural, dreadful stories that would chill you to the bone. They talk about a ghost ship that sails through the canals of Amsterdam known as ‘The touring Dutchman’. They say it is an omen of doom and the bringer of bad tourist season weather. Hopefully it is a ship we will never meet but judging by the weather I fear it might be trailing our wake.
We just passed the oldest Church in Amsterdam, originally built in 1306.
When we stepped on board this tour boat each one of us swore to loyally follow our tour guide without question (until the Q&A at the end) and defend the waters of this great country, its Queen and its people in keeping with the traditions of the of the great Dutch fleets of old but as tourists I wonder how much fighting spirit we truly have amongst us.
We just passed the former headquarters of the colonial East India Company, now home to the University of Amsterdam library.
I don’t know what I would do if we were ever to engage in combat. I try not to imagine it but the scenarios start to play themselves out with in my mind. Epic and bloody battles, the madness of war, our tour guide pointing out areas of strategic interest; “If you look to your right you will see a fleet of attacking Spanish tour boats, the largest known of its kind.”
Sometimes I think the only thing that keeps me going is the promised reward of a souvenir photograph for the reasonable price of 12.99 (4.99 for reprints) in return for our loyalty and bravery.
The Old meets the new – The inspiration for this post
Today’s lesson: How to deal with tourists in Amsterdam who have asked you for directions to a coffee shop with the intention of purchasing and inhaling marijuana.
Step 1) Pretend to be in deep thought for a moment.
You don’t actually need to think about the question you have been asked, you only need to appear as if you are. To aid you achieving the correct look you may wish to use this opportunity to think about what you would like to eat for dinner or what kind of gift you should buy for a loved one.
Step 2) Choose a random direction.
Any direction will do fine but it must be random. You may wish to use a randomizing technique such as ‘eeny, meeny, miny, moe’. If you decide to do so you must insure that you do not say it out loud. It is important that your tourist does not hear the selection process or know that it is random.
Step 3) Point in the random direction you have chosen.
The arm should be raised and the finger extended to indicate the direction.
Step 4) Repeat the following:
“Yeah. There is a really good coffee shop just a short walk that way. You can’t miss it, mate.”
Be sure to say this clearly and with confidence so that it is believable. Why not practice saying it now in the mirror.
Step 5) Bid fair well to your tourist and wish him a pleasant stay in the Netherlands.
Congratulations. You have just dealt with your tourist. You can now go about your day confident in the fact that they will soon find the coffee shop they desire. After all, you are in Amsterdam and there is always a coffee shop within two minutes walk of any direction. Just because you don’t know it is there does not mean it is not there.
Join us again next week when we learn the advanced technique of giving them directions to Starbucks just for fun.
Children’s cartoons might have convinced some of you that they are nothing more then harmless, cute little balls of fluff and whiskers but I am hear to tell you the true dangers of mice.
Amsterdam has always had a mouse problem. The fluffy little creatures have invaded almost every building through out the city. If you see one mouse there are ten. If you see ten there are one hundred. If you see one hundred there are one thousand. During my time in Amsterdam I have seen a lot of mice and I have been doing the math.
We are out numbered. If the little squeakers become aware of their superior numbers and develop even basic organizational skills and a half decent battle plan we are screwed. They could easily over throw the human inhabitants of this city with their and no feline or Pide-Piper would be able to save us from the hordes of cheese hungry mice.
You might think I sound like the town crazy person whose only friend is a tomato he has called Bob but I am telling you that this threat is very real.
First they would take the cities supply of cheese by force leaving the Dutch café industry crippled with out any dairy products to put in their toasties. With the Dutch morale at an all time low due to the lack of toasties and other cheese based snacks the mice would have no problem driving us out into the surrounding towns in search of a bit of Edam or Gouda. Amsterdam would become a city of mice where no human or cat would dare set foot.
But what next you ask. What would these diabolical mice do with the entire city to themselves? Well I will tell you. They will start to live the lives we left behind. They will start to fill in the gaps left behind by the human inhabitants of Amsterdam.
Dam Square would become filled with living mice statues and other street performers trying to earn money from the tourist mice that come to visit the city. Teenage mice would spend their days in little mice coffee shops; smoking mice sized portions of weed, forgetting their names and squeaking ‘dude’ a lot.
Mice taxi drivers would ignore traffic lights and over charge drunk mice returning from a late night out at the DJ Mouse night club. Bicycle mice would be every where. There would be at least one eccentric mouse who wears bright yellow clogs as every day foot wear when going to the Albert-Mouse super market.
Girl mice would dress in bikinis and pose behind glass windows, bathed in the neon light of the red light district as groups of guy mice on a stag weekend stand outside and squeak dares at one another to go and talk to them.
Sintermouse would bring presents to the good little boy and girl mice in December while Zwarte Mouse will drag the bad ones back to Spain in a sack (and yet again spark the yearly debate about possible racism in the tradition towards African Dutch mice).
Worst of all; this blog would no longer be written by myself. That is right, instead of Stuart B it would be Stuart Little.
Heed my warning.
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