Doing The 'Dam

The charm of Amsterdam surely lies in its tangle of the highbrow, the lowbrow, the beautiful, the classy, the tacky and the downright sleazy. Within a few minutes walk, peaceful, picturesque canals lined with specialist shops, boutiques and cafes give way to coffee-shops redolent with the heavy scent of skunk weed and pink-lit windows full of posing, partially-clad prostitutes. A stroll through the flower market and the stalls selling antiquarian and second-hand books can, with one turn, lead to shops selling sex-toys or magic mushrooms and streets lined with porn picture palaces and theatres advertising banana shows. Even though I had a reasonable idea of what to expect, the blatant display of wares which are banned in other countries fairly takes the breath away.

But aside from its unshockability, probably the most alluring aspect to Amsterdam is its ambience. The laid-back approach that matches the gentle pace adopted by the city's countless cyclists as they pedal at joggers' speed through the streets, often chatting into their mobile handsets as they go. People smile tolerantly at the spontaneous outbreaks of group singing accompanying the gaggles of merry-makers and the tables of canalside cafes are full of people gossiping and giggling over cups of coffee or glasses of beer - tourists and residents alike. As a visitor, you aren't made to feel like a necessary evil ripe for a rip-off, but genuinely welcome with smiles and courtesy abounding. Although the endless stream of raucous hen and stag parties heady with intoxication and titillation must wear thin to Amsterdam locals, time and time again I overheard them showing around their out of town and foreign friends, describing their city in tones of pride - window hookers and dope-purveying coffee shops included.

One piece of graffiti we saw as we climbed up to the overpass towards Camping Zeeburg asked, "Why can't everywhere be more like Amsterdam?"
It's tempting to agree.

For the record, we did visit one of the coffee-shops, which provided a novel setting for yet another backgammon session. We chortled over the window displays of a couple of sex shops and read with interest the menu in a Smart Shop, but turned down the opportunity to experiment with hallucinogenic varieties of fungi. We admired the undulations of the red light girls through the glass, but passed by and likewise declined to enter any of the establishments offering live sex shows, although we're told up to a third of the audience at the classier venues tends to be women.

In case you're interested, a spliff rolled with organic hashish or pollen costs from €3.50, a dose of Mexican mushrooms (the mildest type) will set you back around €12, a live sex show costs around €30 (including a free drink), oral favours or a quickie is €30 and a basic session with one of the hookers is €50 for 15 minutes. If you want to know the price of a gramme of weed, you can always ask the city's mayor.

Culture Vultures

As a rule, we're not big on museum and exhibitions. It's not so much a lack of interest in art or culture (current reading- Theo : "A History of Europe" J. M. Roberts, Kate "The Master and Margarita" Mikhail Bulgakov) as an unwillingness to pay the high entry fees, when there's beautiful architecture to admire outside, or to be indoors when the weather's nice (and there's beautiful architecture). Plus, too much gallery gazing would clearly impinge on our European-wide backgammon binge.

However, yesterday we vultured the culture to the max. Picking up an Amerstdam Card each (€33 per card which included free public transport for the day) we hit five museums, as well as availing ourselves of the free canal tour, multiple tram rides and a tea & coffee the card also entitled us to. While we haven't totted it up, the card probably saved us in the region of €30 each, which strikes us as a big of a bargain and probably means we now wont feel too guilty if we don't go into another gallery this side of Venice.

As to those we visited yesterday, I think we both preferred the small Vermeers in the Rijksmuseum to the major attraction, Rembrandt's The Nightwatch, remarkable though that is. I think we both find more affinity with paintings executed according to the artist's own desires, rather than those painted in order to flatter the vanities of the commissioning patron(s). Neither of us is particularly sold on Van Gogh, though it was interesting reading about his life and seeing the progression of his style though the years; Kate found the Fauvist paintings in the Van Gogh Museum's permanent collection far more captivating. The digital map demonstrating the growth of Amsterdam over the centuries in the Amsterdam Historisch Museum was fascinating as were many of the displays, despite their obsession with cesspits. They may be archaeological treasure troves but they are still a pile of old shit. Give me maps goddammit!

In the Nieuwe Kirche - itself a gorgeous attraction - the temporary exhibition, Black is Beautiful, was fascinating from a cultural viewpoint, showing the differing roles and representations of black people in art, even if some of the art itself was fairly mediocre. Finally, we made it to the FOAM Photography museum where there was a retrospective of photos by the Dutch photojournalist Jan Van Ekom, a wonderful juxtaposition of social realism (striking builders, immigrants from Surinam), escapism (theatrical portraits) and intimacy (photos of his, apparently naturist, family).

And so ended our day of ultra-culture. We didn't think much of the restaurants offering a 25% discount with our Amsterdam Card, so plumped for a delicious South Indian restaurant instead. Yum!

Oh, and we still found time to play a few trios of backgammon. Most of which Kate won. For a change.