My parents came over 2 weekends ago. My mother was wearing 7 layers on top and 3 below, but was still cold. On that weekend, I was swearing that it was not getting warmer; when they landed in Paris on the 12th, it was -3 degrees. If anything, it might even have been getting colder.

They didn't stay long in Utrecht, but then as Jiekai notes, there's about as much to see as in Oxford.


Dom from streets

Graffiti seen in Amsterdam: "No freedom of speech in Police State Holland". Some people have no sense of perspective.

For some reason, there were lots of Americans in Amsterdam over that weekend; I swear every third voice I heard was American (at least till late on Sunday afternoon - maybe it was a weekend trip for most of them). It might've been partly due to Spring Break, but there were also many post-College age Americans around. And of course, where there were Americans there were Americans trying to corrupt souls. Some were chanting slogans and holding placards made of corrugated cardboard (ie Old cartons) - they probably busted the budget flying down. One offered me a "Free IQ Test", which made me suspect at first that she was a Scientologist, until she reminded us that "Jesus loves you" when we declined.


Homomonument. At first I thought this was the "Homo Monument" (monument to mankind), but have since found out that it's a monument to lesbians and gays. The evangelists were running their show near this, so maybe that's why they chose the spot they did.

For dinner on Saturday we went in one big round because my father took a wrong turn. We still ended up at the desired location in the end though - "Golden Chopsticks"restaurant. The food was good, with the exception of the over-salty and lacklustre roast combination, and we had an almost 1kg lobster for €31. And because my father spoke Cantonese to the waiter we got complimentary soup and dessert.



I was musing that the evangelists were trying to be too smart in trying to corrupt souls in the City of Sin, and as I was entering the Red Light District with my parents I was musing that they should try hawking their wares in there. Lo and behold, a large group of them were standing on a bridge in the Red Light District singing "Yes Lord"(or "Oh Lord" - this song is just *two* words long).


Koninklijk Paleis (Royal Palace). The tram power lines are very irritating since they keep getting in my shots.


St Nicolaas Kerk, 1887

In the Red Light District there was a "Heart of Amsterdam" hotel. Hurr hurr. And in the district too there was a bar sited just above a coffeeshop (where alcohol is forbidden). For the complete Amsterdam experience they just needed a euthanasia parlor.


Me and St Nicolaas Kerk

Besides the real Red Light District there's also a small fake one north of it, located around the Prostitute Information Centre. Over there, there were some prostitutes in windows but they were old, fat and ugly. Those in the real one were young, attractive and nubile. In the fake one most of the retail space consisted of restaurants, bars and non-sex shops (even this shop with lots of sex videos in the windows was a bookshop with a big sex collection rather than just a sex shop), but in the real one most of the retail locations sold sex (in one form or another - live spectacles, hands-on action, literature or accessories). Most tellingly, curtains were drawn in maybe 1 in 5 windows in the Real district, while none were drawn in the Fake one. Maybe the fact that I was walking through there in the mid-afternoon had something to do with it, and the windows are rented by less successful prostitutes in the day, but I doubt restaurants and normal shops can be replaced by sex-windows and sex shops within a few hours. Maybe it's the potemkin Red Light District which foreign dignitaries get brought to when they visit Amsterdam - salacious enough to make them feel they've seen something, yet not outrageous enough to offend their sensibilities. Either that or a retirement village for old prostitutes. My housemate, when he went to Amsterdam with ESN, complained about the women being old enough to be his mother, so I guess his tour brought him to the fake one. This vindicates my theory! Incidentally, almost every voice I heard in the Red Light District was American. Desker Road is nothing compared to this - Sex-polis and Sex-hub are the way to go the next time we need to boost the economy!


Church of Scientology!

I saw a guy peeing in an alley. Not far away there was a free urinal, of the same design that I'd seen in Maastricht, so it's not just for Carnival. As a public service they should finance the placement of more of these around major cities.

On Sunday we had lunch in Sarang Mas, an Indonesian restaurant. It was a bit pricey, but the food was excellent, and it was doubly haram too, stocking babi as well as frogs' legs.


The law is not mocked (Verboden Fietsen te Plaatsen)

We then took a canal cruise which was narrated in many languages. The first language in the sequence was Dutch and the last English, which was surprising - since English is the language most of those taking the cruise would understand, it should have been the first, since that would give the tourists more time to get ready.

There was graffiti under a bridge over a canal. That means someone actually travelled there on a boat just to decorate the place. I admire their tenacity.

During the cruise we passed by a cafe established in 1641 along Prinsengracht. Unfortunately it was on the other side of the boat, and I couldn't stand up and take a shot since the boat's roof was non-retractable.

Apparently the reason there're houseboats in Amsterdam is because there used to be a housing shortage. Meanwhile the reason there're low fences dating from the 60s lining the canals is to prevent cars from driving into the water. This still doesn't stop a car a week from driving in though. Wth.


Westermark - "The most famous tower in Amsterdam"


Pulitzer hotel, built out of an old warehouses, but only the gables remain.

I saw a swan looking into someone's houseboat. The person was serving lunch.

When moving house in Amsterdam, people move their furniture in and out of the windows, since the staircases and passageways are quite narrow. This is why so many of the houses have hooks hanging from beams sticking out of their tops. How convenient.


Canal near Leidsegracht-Herengracht


Patrician's house. The door in the stoop was for the staff.

502 Herengracht, the official residence of the Mayor of Amsterdam, doesn't look very special.

The 7 bridges of Amsterdam are nice, but unfortunately I only had a bad angle, so I didn't bother to snap away. Shots I find online are good, though.


Along the Amstel river (the river after which Amsterdam is named), and the Mint Tower - old defence tower built in the 15th (?) century


Zuiderkerk, 1614. First Protestant Church in Amsterdam.


Stadswaterkantoor - another defence tower. The bottom dates from the 14th century and the top from the 15th. The clock is called 'crazy jack' because it kept crazy time.

On Sunday afternoon, I saw another group of evangelists (probably the same as the one I'd seen on Saturday) walking through the streets carrying placards and singing. Good riddance. Too bad their actions are not prejudicial to public health.

I saw a very cheap clothes shop. They had pullovers and sweaters (including zip-up ones) from €5, and even long sleeved shirts from €7.50. I was contemplating buying one or two extra pieces of clothing to keep warm. A month ago, I'd also contemplated that but I told myself it could only get warmer, so there was no point. A month later, I then told myself it really really couldn't *not* get warmer, so in the end I bought nothing. The "Fuhua New Fashion Resist Static Electricity 80% Cotton 20% Polyester" zip-up sweater looked promising, though (Finally! Fashion designers Sweatshop labourers who understand my needs!).

Late on Sunday afternoon, some kurds were holding a concert and displaying pictures of injured children and adults, with the sign "Stop Kurdish Genocide".


The Crowne Plaza hotel tries to sucker its guests into visiting the restaurant. Note the typische Nederlandse bewoording.
"Amsterdam is also a city with various types of fine restaurants. One of these fine restaurants is located in your own hotel. May we present to you: Restaurant Dorrius... Of course you can go to a grill restaurant to eat steak and yes... you can eat sushi in a Japanese restuarant. But is that why you came to Amsterdam???? Why don't you try something the Dutch normally eat"

I saw a huge queue outside 'Van der linde ijs (sinds 1937)', and lots of people walking down the street were eating ice cream from there. The day wasn't *that* cold, and the long alley meant most of the windchill was blocked, so I decided to try it (the BJ fix I had maybe a month ago made me freeze even more, so my massage theory doesn't hold water). I got a Kinderijsje for €0.40 just to be safe from freezing, and it was really tiny; usually kids' portions are decent, but this was just a tasting portion. It was plain, flavourless, slightly melted (the joys of mass production!) ice cream but it was really good and full of richness: sort of like whipped, sweetened heavy cream in ice cream form. I think the closest I've tasted to it is clotted cream hand scoop ice cream, though this was more like clotted cream soft serve. The only downside (beyond the miserly portion) was the (very light brown) sugar cone (which tasted like sawdust and/or tracing paper - basically the one used for S$0.50 McDonalds ice cream cones) it was given to me in. Why can't they use the real dark brown sugar cones (with body, taste and crunch) like normal people?!

The souvenir shop in the hotel was surprisingly cheap. This was because it was run by an outside shop, with another branch down the street from the hotel.

Oddly enough, I felt more homesick in the week after they left than in the weeks before, arrival-melancholy notwithstanding, and anyway that was more of general discomfort.