Amsterdam was then one place I am visiting that I felt I knew the most about, which still doesn’t mean much, but I had my preconceptions. Needless to say they were wrong. Amsterdam is amazing. There is so much diversity in such a small area. The more residential area surrounding the city centre is peaceful and very attractive, filled with parks and mixed pockets of cultures. Everyone seemed so happy and friendly as I wandered through a local market enjoying a refreshing drink. The only problem I had with the place was the language. I don’t speak Dutch, I don’t read Dutch, I don’t understand Dutch. Yet people insisted on talking to me. What were they thinking? In our capital city no one will ever talk to you, but here they do. In my experience the Dutch people are very warm and welcoming, even the burly bouncers at the doors of the sex shows offered me a friendly smile, before giving abuse to the loutish groups of men who refused to frequent their establishment.
The city centre itself is fascinating; you can be quietly ambling down a picturesque street then you turn a corner and get lost in the crowd, dodging the fury of bicycles. I think the Dutch are born with a bicycle attached. They are everywhere. Every piece of railing, lamppost or sign had a bike chained to it. The bicycle lanes had priority over the roads. Businessmen, women in heels, children, tourists, dogs, police, all favoured the bicycle. Here it is a way of life. So I tried it out. Cycling around Amsterdam is more exhilarating and exciting than any mountain biking course you will ever do. It’s mental. I was told to ride aggressively, so I did. The city became a huge obstacle course. By chance I found myself in the red light district. It’s quite a shock to be taking in the canal and leaning buildings on one side and then turn to look the other way to have women in their underwear stood in a shop window, displaying themselves.
Later on in the day the atmosphere in the city did change, it was less subdued, more awake and lively. Netherlands were playing in the world cup which may have had some impact but it was the red light district which became more interesting. Of course it is one of the main draws to the city and they seem to accept it here. But I was told that they are slowly shutting it down: within 15 years only 10% of the sex shops will remain and there will be no more ‘coffee shops’. As a young girl alone I expected I would feel intimidated and anxious in this area of the city, but it was quite the opposite. It was the young men who looked sheepish as they wandered through. It wasn’t a seedy or dirty place, I think because it is so open, lay bare, it doesn’t shy away. It is what it is. At £50 for 15 minutes these women could afford some pretty interesting underwear. However the prostitutes were quite aggressive women, one chased a tourist down the street squirting urine at them because they dared to photograph the shop window she was stood in.
I took a free walking tour which was a great way to hear some interesting stories about the city. Amsterdam is a brilliant place, with or without its infamous red light district. In Bruges the streets smelt like chocolate but in Amsterdam they have a more herbal aroma...
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