Amsterdam

"Hey ladies! How about some SEX?!"

I had tried to come to Amsterdam with an open mind. I don't think its fair to prejudge a city based on other tourists' opinions. Because surely there has to be more to Amsterdam then drugs and sex?

But when a man dressed in yellow pleather is proposing a threesome from across a sleepy neighborhood street at 9:30 in morning, it's hard not to file this city in my mental list of travels under "debauchery".

Truth be told, Amsterdam does have a lot to offer. And it's not entirely about drugs and sex.

Our train pulled into the central train station early Friday afternoon. My parents were waiting on the sidewalk in front of the station, valiantly fighting off the jetlag from their early morning flight. After hugs and kisses all around, we proceeded to our rented apartment, baggage in tow. My mom had reserved a charming corner apartment, windows overlooking the bay on one side and a canal on another. My father hadn't slept on the flight, so we left him to nap and took a walk with my mom.

Our first impression of Amsterdam was charming. We strolled along the canal, admiring the quaint bridges, unique architecture, and many bike paths. We soon learned that Amsterdam is very bike friendly, and that bikes are in fact the transportation of choice in the city. Which provided a new challenge to tourists like us who accidentally wander into the bike lanes. Not surprisingly, all bikes are equipped with bells.

After our walk we returned to the apartment to wake up my dad, then head out again for dinner at a barbeque restaurant in the city.

The next day started early for me when a text message beeped onto my phone at 6 a.m. My friend Terry was en route to Stuttgart for a business trip and had taken a layover in Amsterdam. At 7 a.m. the cab had pulled up to the apartment and I was groggily staggering down the stairs to let her in. After hushed giggles and hugs hello, I jumped into the shower and we took a walk around the area while my family woke up and readied for the day.

It was on this quiet early morning stroll that we were generously propositioned by the man in yellow. If corner-of-my-eye memory serves correctly, he was accompanied by a similarly dressed French bulldog. After we laughed and continued down the street, he persisted:

"I'm not from the red light district! I'm a normal guy!"

We returned to the apartment and found everyone else awake and ready to go. We walked down to the central station together and bought tickets for the canal bus and the requisite Amsterdam canal boat ride.

The canal boat was long and wide enough to give its passengers the feeling of not being on the water at all. As the boat grumbled along the canals, we stuck our cameras out and took photos of everything. Soon we came upon the Anne Frank house, and from the water we could see the line wrapped around the building. So we quickly made a group decision to wait until the next day for the Anne Frank house and continued along the canal.

We decided to take the boat down to the southern edge of the city, where we hopped off. We walked past the Heineken Experience (not enough beer fans in our group to warrant a visit) on to the Albert Cuypmarkt, which was not unlike many of the other markets we'd seen in Europe. Although they did have some tasty fruit juices, which Terry and I were all too happy to buy in the warm afternoon.

After lunch we took the canal boat back to the center of the city. From there we walked to the Bloemenmarkt, the floating flower market (in fact, much like the canal boats, you can't even tell it's actually on the water). We browsed the stalls filled with hundreds of plants and bulbs, admiring the more exotic plants and wishing we could manage to take them all home. I bought a single strange seed for a castanospermum australe, or Queensland black bean, which - if it grows - looks like it will be a beautiful apartment plant.

From the market we started walking back to the apartment, which eventually led us through the red light district. We had to have a pass down the streets, picking out the best looking girls and trying not to make eye contact. We saw some Japanese tourists point their camera toward some of the girls, and the girls immediately hiding behind curtains. Modest, these ladies.

That evening my mom made everyone dinner, then Terry, David and I went walking in the city again. Of course night time in Amsterdam is when everyone comes out for their fixes, and we were soon walking amongst the drunk, the stoned, everyone else heading toward the red light district. We had drinks on a quiet bar along a pedestrian street, walked through a closed shopping district (bummer), and took another pass through the wildly popular red light district, where crowds of tourists were packing the streets and even more girls wriggled in their windows.

The next morning we got ourselves up relatively early and used the last of our 24 hour canal bus passes to ride back to Anne Frank's house. Unforunately, we weren't there early enough and had to wait half an hour in the cold and rain before we got in. But it was well worth it to see the house, the secret annex, and Anne's original diary.

Soon thereafter we escorted Terry to the central station, where she hopped on the next train to the airport. We went back to the apartment to regroup, then decided to spend our last afternoon at the de Hortus botanical garden, one of the oldest in Europe. The gardens were a short walk from our apartment, and we especially enjoyed the tropical greenhouses and butterfly house. However, by then I was starting to feel the effects of a cold that Terry had brought from the US, and I spent a lot of time sitting on a bench feeling groggy and sorry for myself.

David walked me back to the apartment, where I promptly crashed on the couch and napped until my parents returned, my mother over-worrying like mothers do. By dinnertime I was up and conscious, so we walked to Café In de Waag for dinner, an old weigh house that had been converted to a trendy restaurant.

After dinner David and I took a last walk through the city, spending time to admire the canals and taking photos in the evening light.

The next morning we packed our bags and dragged them back to Central Station. We found my parents' platform, put them safely on their train to Brussels, and hung around for half an hour until our train arrived.

So I'm sorry if I disappoint anyone by admitting that I didn't buy any drugs or sex on this trip, but if you're planning a visit to Amsterdam, I can recommend a few streets.

P.S. Click on any of the photos to see more on our Flickr site