07/04 Amsterdam, Netherlands

04 Jul 1985, Posted by Scott An Chora in Travelogue, No Comments.

07/04 Amsterdam, Netherlands


We wandered among its narrow streets that radiated out like spokes to a wheel. Bicycles danced across our path. Up one of these many streets we spotted a small coffee shop adjacent to one of the more picturesque canals. It was a good day for mischief. It had a large window and we noticed that the table upfront was vacant and had a nice view of a small flower market. The local dealer started out trying to sell us what he wanted to get rid of. “Not interested in anything but the very best”, I repeated. Then questioned where do I have to go to find some. Making sure that he understood I knew what we were looking for and was not going to compromise. After the obstacle course of questions, he eventually came forth with what we were seeking. With a pot of coffee, over a game of backgammon and I rolled up I would consider a good one, half marijuana half hash. After the first couple of hits a young German sat down next to us, introduced himself and asked if he could have a hit also. It was obvious he was a little green behind the ears and gave us the impression that this might be his first time. He took a couple of hits and began to relax. Then all of a sudden his eyes grew wide, he stood up and to our surprise ran out of the coffee shop and down the street. It was actually very funny. All the other patrons had no idea what had just happened and by their expressions, they thought he had stolen something from us and questioned why we didn’t pursue him.

We waited that evening in front of Ann Frank’s house, walked around, kept our eye open, but not a single person showed for our little forth of July party.

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    Usually behind a cup of coffee waiting for the world around me to wake up I entered today’s thoughts about yesterday’s activities into my travel journal. I’m not a writer, so I’ll apologize in advance if I jump around or seem confused. These are just the thoughts of a young man who left his possessions behind and who believes that getting lost is how one finds oneself.

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