#siblingsabroad

July 31st 2016

How insane. I cannot believe it has come to the last day in Europe. The time has gone so slow but also flown by – pretty much meaning I’m chalked full of mixed emotions about it being over, but craving my bed and a burrito.

Our day was more than full to round out the trip. We booked Heineken Brewery tour tickets the day before, and in our attempt to ask for directions, ended up purchasing tickets to drink more at the Amsterdam Ice Bar. Typical. We grabbed a light french fry snack (yes we made it to the hotel breakfast thank god), and walked around the shops before our appointment at the Ice Bar, all the while sharing a joint (on the street! like what?!) and laughing our bloody arsses off. (It’s such a trip here – anything goes for the most part and you constantly see just about every form of human, old and young, foreign or not, smoking in plain sight). I really haven’t laughed that hard in a while. Ask Jay to do that impersonation I mentioned before of Serj; even if you are dead sober you will pee your pants. Anywho. We got to the ice bar just in time for our booking appointment (this was after the wind picked up near the canal and took my gummies with it, leaving me bummed out, but with something else to laugh about). Once we entered the bar, we were seated in a prep area before the actual ice bar section. We enjoyed our first of three drink tokens and just took in the atmosphere around us. It was so fun to be in a place that was bursting with energy at this time of day…bunch of fellow alcoholics. They gave us jackets and gloves and told us we would receive a glass inside for our drinks. We walked in (mind you, I’m in a dress and sandals), and we see that the temperature says -9.4. Granted that’s 15 degrees farenheit, but still. We froze our buns off. Luckily they were only serving beer and hard alcohol straight so we warmed up real quick. All of this out of pure ice cups. We lasted a cool 20 minutes max in that icebox, and with the strong fear that my toes had fallen off, I dipped out of there quick. Onto the Heineken experience. This was just how the goob I date described it: like a Disneyland animation except worse. The tour was cool and the facts were interesting but there was a simulation where you were “the beer” with a man that “went along for the ride”. The beer tasting and then two drink tokens helped take the edge off of that. We enjoyed our tiny brews and took pictures of the rooftop views, not wanting to end the day or leave Europe at all for that matter.

We headed to our last coffee shop/bar, after enjoying some wok style noodles, that was inspired by The Doors. With great music and pool, the night was tipped off perfectly. (All I will say about what we did right before we hopped our train home is that it was legal, it was disturbing, it was something you have to do in Amsterdam and it was mad real. I’ll leave the rest to imagination. Or not, I’m still having nightmares about it).

All in all, we were exhausted, fulfilled and ready to get to our beds. With heavy hearts full of disbelief that we would be hopping a plane home tomorrow, we nestled in bed and recapped the day…leaving out that last part.

Night night. Tomorrow, America, we reunite again old friend.

July 30th 2016

It is the dumbest feeling in the world to wake up and realize you just missed the free breakfast that the hotel provides…especially when you’re hungry af and #helpmeimpoor. We arose at 10:03am, missing the breakfast downstairs by just three minutes. Classic. It was a much needed sleep despite missing the event Jay and I collectively like the most; his being breakfast, mine being eating.

We eventually started our day much more confident than the day before, knowing full well what we were headed into, and with a plan of where to go and what to do once we hit the city and the looks of the red light district. We were told many times to get our Anne Frank House tickets ahead of time, but unfortunately they were booked (plus I didn’t listen and totally forgot). The good news was it wasn’t as long of a wait as we expected. Jay and I were more than set on seeing this famous museum, so the two hour line didn’t seem so daunting after all…especially when I ventured off to find a six pack of tall-can Heinekens (and succeeded). We sat on the curb, in the drizzle, laughing over our previous day, drinking beer and talking about what Anne Frank meant to us both and how thrilled we were to experience such an important piece of history. Because I am someone who makes jokes when I am uncomfortable (cough mature), and the idea of emotions in public make me uncomfortable, I will attempt not to make any crass comments about such an experience, because it was incredibly moving. Being in the rooms they hid in, within the same four walls, walking the stairs and breathing that same air was insane. The two things that got me personally, were the pictures Anne had pasted on the wall of her room to make it seem more normal were still there and preserved well, and the large photo of Otto Frank visiting the museum years and years later, being the only survivor. How unreal. What a life we live, really. Once we left there, we felt so many different things at one time. The heaviness of the history and the past, the need to do something important, and hungry bellies. Since we still hadn’t consumed food since waking up, just beer, we decided on food. Full and happy, we set out to find a special coffee shop and and a tattoo shop. Okay let me explain both of those. First of all, I might as well just say it because it’s legal there, we were looking to smoke. (For those of you that live under a large rock, weed is legal in Amsterdam and they have Coffeeshops that sell it where you can sit and smoke and be jolly). Not only that, but I, Paige Santangelo, made an impulsive decision on the last leg of my trip; I got tatted. For those of you that know me (who am I kidding this is my family reading this…hi mom), you know that this is insanely strange because I am not impulsive, but I did it, and it was totally weird. I won’t go into too much detail about the coffee shop or the tat (pics coming later, the suspense is much more fun), because those are experiences that need experiencing for themselves, but I will say that the Bulldog was an epic place with cozy and cool atmosphere making it much more comfortable to smoke and enjoy ourselves. After waiting a few hours and eating a little more, we ventured to a tattoo shop that would tattoo fingers (two of which said no…strange place, Amsterdam).

At the close of the day, Jay and I had hit so many bucket list things it was hard to count, making us more than happy to go back to our hotel room and sleep in preparation for our last day. Our best day (duh).

Night night peeps

We made it to Ammy. What? That’s what they call it. Okay maybe not the actual inhabitants of Amsterdam, but just goobery tourists that like to abbreviate things.

Anywho. We arrived on an early bus to our last swagged out hotel near the Amsterdam Schipol Airport. After we dropped our stuff in the room, took a quick catnap, and figured out the metro scenario, we were on our way to the center of Amsterdam city. We first ate a delicious omelette lunch at 2pm (because apparently Dutch people like brunch as much as we do), and then headed out to walk the streets of the Red Light District. It absolutely lives up to every single thing said about it. Not only are there girls in the windows, like cars displayed in a showroom, but there are X-rated shops on every corner and live “special” shows of every size and shape. Next to a delicious fry shop, you will find a coffee shop where weed is sold, and on the other side, a souvenir shop with cannibis lollipops and genital salt and pepper shakers. Absolutely hysterical, and completely unreal. With every wrong turn, we headed down another alley with 18+ windows and the air clouded with weed smoke. This is how we got lost multiple times over, every part of this district looks the same. That paired with Jay’s lack of navigation skills took us the complete opposite direction across town. Not to worry though, I was still able to embarrass myself with my clumsiness, and in a place that every person wants to be called out, a sex shop. Naturally, Jay and I were intrigued by the hilarious things sold, so we meandered around a few, laughing at the things that barely covered a person or that vibrated with a phone app. Of course, the minute I picked up something to look at it, I knocked over three more. This lovely display was flavored lubricant. Yep. I knocked over a bunch of bottles of lube. Everyone looked at me and the store attendant yelled, are you okay? Face beat red and giggling, I answered a reluctant, “uh-huh” and walked the other direction. I was then labeled the “lube girl,” as she put it, by the other employee under her breath and swiftly exited, on the verge of throwing up from embarrassment. You guessed it, I am thrilled to have a new Amsterdam nickname. On that note, Jay and I aimed for the train station, and called it an early night, picking up dinner snacks at the supermarket and heading for bed.

Can’t wait to ruffle more feathers tomorrow in this interesting place. Also can’t wait to bring my grandparents here, that would be just swell.