Right so I better write this down before it nearly becomes a WEEK away and I forget everything.
So the 3rd and final trip we made was to Martin in Amsterdam. Jéan would be joining us that night (Saturday) and we would hang out with the 4 of us and leave Sunday. At which time we would just hang out with M & M and leave for home on Monday.
Well, I woke up (in my massive orange hat) on Rens's floor next to H. that morning, both of us fully dressed and Michiel on the floor 3 ft away from us and other random boys scattered throughout the apartment. We struggled around the house for a few hours, not really accomplishing anything of any quality, but finally managed to eat a few sandwiches and drink some coffee and laugh about the night before. Then Evert left for Eindhoven, Gert went to the boat races, and Michiel had to go home to Utrecht. So Rens and H and I were left to go to the beach and sweat all the crap out of our system. It was, after all, a beeeeautiful day. And very relaxing to sit in the sand and dream away, while sobering up.
So after getting rid of our Hague hangover (by something like 5pm, my baby and I hopped on a train to A'dam, where Martin was only JUST waking up from his massive night before. So it was all good timing. We had a couple beers waiting for Jéan to arrive, and took it easy.
UNTIL J. showed up. Without going into the boring details, let's just say we sat at M's kitchen table drinking and talking & catching up (our 1st reunion with all of us in 1 place in 6 years) until the sun came up. WHY did I have to drink nearly 3 bottles of Rosé??? WHY!??! Because I was sick of beer from the 3 days before? Because it was so cold and refreshing and delicious? Because it would be really cliché to share 3 bottles of Rosé with my gay bf Jéan, rather than drink beer? WHY?!?! Um, because I LIKE puking in the kitchen sink? Oh definitely.
So the next morning, J. left, and M & M & H & I went to this huge hippie/cultural festival in the central park of Amsterdam. It was a great way to recover. a million billion booths of ethnic food and wears and stages with alllllll types of music playing, from Cajun to Congolese, on another beautiful day, in one of the most beautiful parks in Europe.
I didnt even drink anything all day... we just laid in the grass on a big picnic blanket. And rested. Listening to great music, eating at sporadic intervals over a period of 6-7 hours, watching all the different thousands of cultures of people (and all the different varieties of hippies!) wandering through the park, relaxed, and happy. We ate little fried breads from Surinam, delicious crispy loempias from Indonesia, and (ok I admit it) a BRILLIANT Banana beer from somewhere in west africa (Malawi maybe?) Happy happy day. Finished it all up with a late dinner in a Lebanese cafe near M's apartment, and went to bed at a decent hour. Just perfect. I love amsterdam.
So the 3rd and final trip we made was to Martin in Amsterdam. Jéan would be joining us that night (Saturday) and we would hang out with the 4 of us and leave Sunday. At which time we would just hang out with M & M and leave for home on Monday.
Well, I woke up (in my massive orange hat) on Rens's floor next to H. that morning, both of us fully dressed and Michiel on the floor 3 ft away from us and other random boys scattered throughout the apartment. We struggled around the house for a few hours, not really accomplishing anything of any quality, but finally managed to eat a few sandwiches and drink some coffee and laugh about the night before. Then Evert left for Eindhoven, Gert went to the boat races, and Michiel had to go home to Utrecht. So Rens and H and I were left to go to the beach and sweat all the crap out of our system. It was, after all, a beeeeautiful day. And very relaxing to sit in the sand and dream away, while sobering up.
So after getting rid of our Hague hangover (by something like 5pm, my baby and I hopped on a train to A'dam, where Martin was only JUST waking up from his massive night before. So it was all good timing. We had a couple beers waiting for Jéan to arrive, and took it easy.
UNTIL J. showed up. Without going into the boring details, let's just say we sat at M's kitchen table drinking and talking & catching up (our 1st reunion with all of us in 1 place in 6 years) until the sun came up. WHY did I have to drink nearly 3 bottles of Rosé??? WHY!??! Because I was sick of beer from the 3 days before? Because it was so cold and refreshing and delicious? Because it would be really cliché to share 3 bottles of Rosé with my gay bf Jéan, rather than drink beer? WHY?!?! Um, because I LIKE puking in the kitchen sink? Oh definitely.
So the next morning, J. left, and M & M & H & I went to this huge hippie/cultural festival in the central park of Amsterdam. It was a great way to recover. a million billion booths of ethnic food and wears and stages with alllllll types of music playing, from Cajun to Congolese, on another beautiful day, in one of the most beautiful parks in Europe.
I didnt even drink anything all day... we just laid in the grass on a big picnic blanket. And rested. Listening to great music, eating at sporadic intervals over a period of 6-7 hours, watching all the different thousands of cultures of people (and all the different varieties of hippies!) wandering through the park, relaxed, and happy. We ate little fried breads from Surinam, delicious crispy loempias from Indonesia, and (ok I admit it) a BRILLIANT Banana beer from somewhere in west africa (Malawi maybe?) Happy happy day. Finished it all up with a late dinner in a Lebanese cafe near M's apartment, and went to bed at a decent hour. Just perfect. I love amsterdam.
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