Day 166: Amsterdam

If there is one destination that attracts young people more than any other, it is Amsterdam, or the Netherlands in general. The promise of freedom that reigns in the city is reason enough. Amsterdam is a beautiful city, criss-crossed by canals, with houses leaning and tilting due to the poor consistency of the soil on which their foundations rest. But if you ask anyone under the age of 30 to tell you something about Amsterdam, the vast majority will mention joints, some will remember the legalised prostitution of the Red Light District, but very few will be able to name a monument in the city.

Ten of us set off from Bielefeld in two hire cars at 11 in the morning. The reason we left so late was because one of the cars had a flat tyre.

When we arrived in Amsterdam at 2 p.m., we left the car in a car park and went to explore the city. The best thing to do in a city like this is to get lost, wander through its alleys, and watch the people. Amsterdam is perfect for losing yourself, though getting lost in the Red Light District is not pleasant, since it is full of tourists hunting for prostitute shop windows and coffee shops. In reality, the supposed stronghold of freedom in the Netherlands is nothing more than a trap to drain large sums of money from fools—particularly young people drawn by that “freedom.”

Quite late in the day, we went to eat at a Burger King (these types of fast-food restaurants are praised by many philosophers because, thanks to them, wherever you are in the world, you can always feel comfortable, like at home). Afterwards, we went for another short walk in search of a coffee shop. There, some of us had coffee and others bought cannabis. There is nothing I enjoy more in this world than thinking; I savour every idea that comes out of my head. That is why I do not take anything that might affect, either in the short or long term, how it functions. For that reason, a few of us left that den full of the dull paraphernalia of cannabis and went off to discover a few more corners of the city. Later we all met up again and went to see the Red Light District at its busiest. Afterwards, we collected the car from the car park and drove back to Bielefeld. The return journey was quite a challenge, as I tried to drive at a pace that would allow the quarter tank of petrol we had left to last until the German border (150 km away), since petrol in the Netherlands is even more expensive. I didn’t manage it, and very close to the border we had to put in about 10 litres of petrol to make it back without trouble.

Two things I noticed in the Netherlands: on the radio we came across Portuguese fados, which shows how present Europe is. Everyone speaks very good English, and in the city’s bookshops there are more books in English than in Dutch.

Here are today’s photos:

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