Roam to Reykjavik - Part 4

Amsterdam became a bit of a blur.

I haven't been to Rome yet and I'm not sure what people do there, but in Amsterdam people smoke before and after most standard daily operations. Therefore, we were still quite 'relaxed' when we left the restaurant after dinner. The Coffee shop we went to for a nightcap was a locals spot (arguably the best one in Amsterdam). Devoid of any tourist epiphonies about how 'this should be legal at home'. The thing I didn't understand about the coffee shops in Amsterdam was the austere decor. Hardwood or tiled floors, empty tables, rigid chairs. Then there was the clientele, the bulk of them between 35 and 60, all very much engaged in conversation with anyone who wanted to join in. Not nearly the lava-lamp-lit, plastic fern walled plush grotto I had expected.

Approaching the display counter, Ant advised us that we should order the fresh mint tea to wash our dinner down. We bought a few grams of organic, high laughter kush, with a balanced body-to-mind ratio (according to the laminated menu). 

We enjoyed our tea with honey and had a puff, getting giggly during a punchline that must have gone on for at least 30 minutes. As it turned out, Ant didn't know the difference between a queef, and a quiff (hair style). After a few moments Alexis caught on, throwing me a wide eyed "he doesn't know!!!??" glare. This admittedly vulgar line of enquiry continued until we were so red-faced and teary-eyed that we pulled the pin. Some of the highlights from this crass but memorable moment include Ant saying "Yes, I have a queef on my head what's weird about that?" and "queef's have been consistently cool since Elvis". Oh the giggling.

The rest of our time in The Dam was a blur of frosty bicycle rides and canals.  Our visit to the Anne Frank house/museum was a highlight. On the last night we checked in to a non-refundable hotel room that we had been offered by a friend (THANKS!). It was in a bit of a quiet spot, hidden behind a shiny new, red-brick Mosque. Once settled, we felt the need for wine and cheese. Because, wine and cheese.

Searching around for a bottle shop we stumbled into a what looked like a standard neighborhood deli... Enter cheese and wine Valhalla... Greeted by a dutch version of Basil Fawlty, we tasted all the little samples of artisan cheese, and oversized olives. Our goodies were wrapped with care in butchers paper and we scuttled off.

All hail the cheese and wine... Complete with Carr's brand crackers. Bliss.

All hail the cheese and wine... Complete with Carr's brand crackers. Bliss.

From Amsterdam we travelled to Cologne, Germany by rail. Cologne isn't very exciting. It has but one saving grace: Christmas markets.

It turns out zee Germans are keen on sprouting a Christmas market on any patch of the city bigger than a boxing ring. They are packed with jolly Deutsch-folk sipping Gluwein and laughing with a "Yaaaaahh hooott oot oot oot yaa!". We pottered around and emersed ourselves in Christmas (and wine). We became excited about abandoning our 2 euro commemorative cup 'deposits' to keep our wine stained "Weihnachten in Köln" (Christmas in Cologne) commemorative mugs.

A nativity play was in full swing up on the stage, a crowd had gathered and everyone was cheering and jovially-heckling along. After a few minutes a red-cheek-and-nosed German Woman turned to me, asking "do you know what is the story of this?" to which I replied "It's your country! I was going to ask you!" we both laughed. The Woman, after a short observation of the pageant turned to me again and said "I don't think it matters anyway we just drink MORE GLUWEIN! oot oot yaa oot".

This was a very fun time, but if it isn't December I'd avoid the city entirely.

A mug the shape of Santa's boot and the remains of the most obscenely long something-wurst I've ever excused my casual Vegetarianism for.

A mug the shape of Santa's boot and the remains of the most obscenely long something-wurst I've ever excused my casual Vegetarianism for.

The Pageant... WHAT!!??

The Pageant... WHAT!!??

We decided to avoid the inflated holiday train fares and use to find a ride to Strasbourg, France. After a few hours of periodical-awkward-busting small talk with our lovely, but slightly introverted driver, we were dropped off outside our AirBNB in Strasbourg.

On the 24th, with our two Australian friends now in tow we journeyed out to get supplies for our Christmas feast the next day. It turns out you can get quite a bit of high-quality French plonk and delicious food for 200 euro.


The idea to be in Strasbourg was to have a (Alexis and my first) snowy Christmas day. Morning came, the 300+ year old Church bells went berzerk and we looked under our makeshift tree (a stolen tree branch). Santa hadn't dropped much off, specifically there was no snow, sleet, hail or even rain... Not a sausage! Short of a few degrees the conditions essentially matched those back home in Australia, white Christmas FAIL.

The lack of snow didn't stop us having a crisp, sunny christmas-knit jumper picnic in a well manicured park nearby. We ate and drank consistently all day. Between us we made twelve bottles of wine disappear and a frightful amount of cheese to soak it up. We sat down to watch National Lampoons Christmas Vacation and somehow consume a large-ish box of chocolates. We floated off to bed as happy (sickly) little food balloons. Joyeux Noël!

On the 27th we all packed up and walked out to the train station together, farewelled and found ourselves in Baden Baden, Germany.