Travel, 50+, Netherlands

Netherlands, Dutch, Swamp Germans, orange fetish, the people who took "eat the rich" very seriously that one time in the 1600s (see Johan de Witt)... What can I say about this place, then?

I first visited the place for business purposes many years ago. Got familiar with a lot of walls and windows. They sure love those windows in the Netherlands. The most eventful moment of those times was a lady at the airport. I was splurging like a big dogg with a purchase of water. To establish dominance, I demanded a receipt. The lady behind the counter stared through me with a full on blank all over her face as she processed the water and named the number I owed her. I paid and she tossed the receipt. Her face began to, slowly, change as she asked "Would you like a receipt?" Doubt? A faint memory of what I had said earlier? I responded with an affirmative. Her face was engulfed in rage, all of the sudden. Now she had to dig through her trash. Slow wires with a detonation at the other end. How curious.

Later on, only quite recently, I could afford to enter the country as a tourist. Or "cancer" as the Amsterdam locals seem to prefer to call the people who bring money to them in person. Just wire the money in, alright? They have even gone as far as pay for advertisement campaigns "to keep the cancer out". Especially the alcohol, drugs and red light district kind. Yet, at the same time, that is what they sell. Quite aggressively, mind you. It is a trap of their own doing to which the "others", in Dutch view, are guilty (or that is how they have presented the case to my ears).

Despite, I had to see it once. And it was glorious!(-ly filthy.) The popular spots slapped me across the face with depravity and decadence like it was a German porno in the making. Too many people everywhere. Too much trash all over the place. Shops selling everything sex and drugs, with a shocking lack of rock -n- roll. Just finding a card to send back home took a full hazmat suit with a double layer of thick rubber gloves and a mask that would dilute your average covid into nothing. Less than nothing. Lady parts ripped open so hard I could see her tonsils from below, a young male presenting his digestive system nether bits with no need for doctors with cameras, everything made of drugs and/or in relation to the paraphernalia. Finding nothing I could send back home without having to explain with a full series of lectures on "dude what the f- and why would you do this to us" ... I was attempting to escape. The shopkeeper threw laughing appeals at me: "Come on! At least the edibles! At least buy some edibles!"

Rushing through a blur of movement, noises and putrid matter, I finally succeeded to slam my heinie on a bench in a sort of a park. Hand on my chest to prevent the heart from pounding the chest open like it was a scene from Alien, I received another shock. A lady trying real hard to throw her head off her shoulders. Another victim of the "cancer" treatment, I'm sure. On another note, I wonder if the postmen receive therapy for all the cards they process through to unsuspecting friends and relatives far and wide. Or maybe it's all machines, now? Either way, I could never afford a shrink. The alternative was to go slam my skull with a few blades of windmills to do the MIB flash in real life. And so I did.

Just outside the capital, I found serenity. Besides the main square and a couple of bigger streets, there was almost no one there. In comparison, anyway. The weather reciprocated the overall change in tone and everything became better. Except for the affordable accommodation solutions. The room itself was a closet at best, and then there was the toilet/shower solution. Which was inside an actual closet. Never seen anything like this before, but somehow they made it work. I mean, sure, you could barely move in there and the doors were always unlocked because it was an actual closet, but otherwise.

No matter, the canal strolls, the food and the much better weather and everything else balanced out the shell shocked state of being. I would begin to, almost, feel like a human being again.

The Judgment:
Netherlands is a very expensive place to visit. Sure, you can fly in cheap, but that's where this sort of fun ends. You will have to negotiate between your wallet ripping apart and the standards of accommodation as you choose the place to turn your body horizontal. The food is a hint on the expensive side, but survivable. You will get to choose between the rich Dutch world of "did you even put salt in it?" and varied ethnic options. It is hard to find souvenirs to take back home due to price, subject matter and legality issues, but I suppose people mostly come for the experience.

While Amsterdam surely delivers on the action and some of the more notable museums and other similar establishments, I preferred to stay outside. The difference of experience towards amicable was so massive. Outside, you will get cleaner surroundings, more peace, personal space and it is far safer, too. The night time around the capital was a tad hairy and would not recommend it to anyone traveling solo. Unless, perhaps, you are able to ward off junkies, opportunistic thieves and some hen and stag parties on a bar/"café" crawl. My experience is so far pretty exclusive to the actual Holland, so take my words, and Dutch cuisine, with a grain of salt.

Would I go again? Yes. There are places I must check off my list. Also, they could barely only just find a couple of coins with W-A face. What is it with that? My collectors demand a long list of "not-Beatrix" and it's not really circulating.