fiets

I'm writing from Amsterdam, after arriving here yesterday. I checked out of my Bruges hostel on the later side, said goodbye to some of my fellow travelers, and hopped on the train. I spent the afternoon exploring and remembering how to get around in Amsterdam, and then took a much-needed nap.

I wasn't quite in the mood for the crazy Amsterdam nightlife, but I roamed around to check out the spectacle. The streets of the Red Light District supported a steady stream of tourists - nearly shoulder-to-shoulder with people at times - but elsewhere the city seemed almost quiet around midnight. (I'm sure I was just in the wrong places.) I had a couple of beers in a youth hostel bar and then came back to my hotel and crashed. I have 3 days here and I need some sleep!

On Thursday, I rented a bike and rode from Bruges to the Dutch border, about 20km away. I stopped in a couple of small towns, one of which (Damme) was comprised almost entirely of bookstores. I also saw more cows than I've ever seen in a single day. Once you leave the Bruges city limits, it's all a big cornfield; in that regard it reminded me of Ithaca.

The Dutch town at the border is called Sluis. Halfway to Sluis, my bike started making a chirping noise: twice for every rotation of the front wheel. It was a seven-speed bike, but three of the gears were impossible to use because the derailleur wasn't aligned properly. Also, the back of the bike had a metal panel behind the seat, which rattled every time the bike hit a rock. Biking in the rain, I was a pathetic sight indeed.

When I made it to Sluis, I picked up the classic traveler's lunch (baguette, cheese, random meat) and walked through the streets. The town is about 7km from the coast, and it has a "seaside" feel to it: think Cape Cod. The only real attraction is a windmill at the end of the main street, but the town seems to attract a fair amount of tourists nonetheless. Since it's in the Netherlands, there are sex shops sandwiched between some of the nice restaurants, and they're not exactly discreet: the windows feature nude mannequins sporting all sorts of 'equipment'.

The rain had passed, so I took the scenic route back; it's a very peaceful winding bike path that seems to cut through the back of someone's farm. The cows seemed to take offense at my noisy bike, but they weren't very aggressive. I have a few pictures, but I'll upload them later.

For a pre-dinner snack, I picked up my first kroket of the trip. (This is a staple of the Dutch street vendor, and an old standby from my voyage last year.) I'd planned to stop at a supermarket and cook something simple in the hostel for dinner, but when I returned I found a pair of Aussies who had made way too much pasta and insisted on sharing. Jackpot!

The guy and girl who had cooked the meal together had actually met that morning, and spent the day together. (They seemed to "fancy" each other, as the Brits would say.) They both seemed to enjoy the anonymity of traveling, so they had agreed to call each other only by their bed numbers in the hostel. I was introduced to "23" and "21" and never learned their real names. I was "15".