Uno: Holla, Holland!

"I wonder if Amsterdam would get mad at me if I took a brick from their street." --while staring at a loose cobblestone on my way to the Vincent Van Gogh Museum.

It was Thursday, March 24, and this is the sight that I woke up to a couple of hours before my plane landed in Amsterdam. Well, I wouldn't really call it waking up since I did not actually get any real sleep. My flight was scheduled to be 9 hours and 40 minutes long so the plan was that about an hour into my flight, I would knock out only to wake up from an restful, 8 hour slumber at 7:55 am in Amsterdam. Perfect, right? Except I didn't know that so many passengers were bringing their babies on board and that many of them had the capability of crying for 9 hours straight. About two of them exercised this ability quite liberally. Ah, well, you know as they say, "The best laid plans of mice and men often go awry."

So close...

In the end, I decided not to think too much about it. The moment that my brain acknowledges how exhausted it is and how much my body is yearning for a bed, it is always game over. After all, this was my first day on European ground and I only had eight hours to spend in the city so I wanted to make the best of it. Pretty sure this wasn't the healthiest decision that I could have made... but I don't regret it at all.

However, as soon as I stepped off the plane, a couple of facts gave me a swift hard kick to the face:

• I can't speak the language 
• I don't even know which language is used (I still don't know which language is used)
• I hardly had any euros on me
• and I didn't have a map of the entire city

Bikes! Everywhere! And behind those trees? Even more bikes!! 

With all that in mind, I shrugged my shoulders and looked for an atm. Strange I know, I'm not sure if it was from the exhaustion, my god-complex, or knowing that God is with me no matter which country I venture off to, but I was sure that I was going to be okay. Absolutely sure.

Good thing I was insanely confident or else I would have been discouraged when people gave me confused looks when I tried speaking to them in Italian. Or when I remembered I packed all of my vitamin C supplements into my checked in bag, oh, that was disappointing. When I realized that I should have taken my mother's advice on showering before I left because it meant I wouldn't have showered for.... longer than I would have liked, that's all I'll disclose with you. That was a pretty low blow too. But no! None of that seemed to phase me. Even when I missed the train that would have brought me to the travel agency on time to go visit the Keukenhof (Tulip Festival), I kept on going!

Eventually, I made it to Amsterdam Centraal and started my trek through the city. If I were asked to define the city using only three words, I would say that Amsterdam is made of bikes, windows, and canals. As you can see in the picture above, bikes are everywhere! In fact, I think that it's a problem in the city because on my way to the boat tour, I passed by a truck being loaded with bikes after their locks were cut and their license plates were recorded. Ouch. Anyway, canals cut through the entire city with thousands of bridges connecting the little islands. Elms anchored the walls of the canals down giving the streets a romantic feel as I watched the shadows of the branches play on the sidewalks and forget how the canals kind of smelled for a second. And the windows. Oh, the windows. The buildings that line the streets and canals are hardly buildings in the sense that a space is enclosed with a set of walls. No, the buildings of Amsterdam are more like frames for their vast amount of beautiful, large windows.

For only spending one day in Amsterdam, I managed to fit a 75 minute city cruise, a 20 minute run through the Vincent Van Gogh museum (I gave Monet and Picasso a glance too), and a 2 hour stroll through the Keukenhof with an easy hour to spare in the airport before my flight to Rome. A few quick things about my short adventure through the city: each canal in the city has a name. For example, Breweries Canal is the canal that all the breweries were on! Surprising, right? The odd thing is, the water in the canals used to be so polluted that Amsterdam actually had to import barrels of water to drink. The water went bad fairly quickly though so rather than sitting around wondering if it was okay to drink the water, the citizens drank beer instead since it kept for a lot longer! I'm pretty sure they didn't mind too much. 

Van Gogh's Almond Blossom is exquisite. No other word will give that piece of art justice. Just thinking about it now a week and a half later, it still takes my breath away. Monet's works are a close second. And I'm still not sure how to approach Picasso. He's... different. And as I sprinted through the four floors of the art museum, all I was able to think about was how much my best friend would have shaken her head at me if she were there with me. 

The Keukenhof was cute! And my plan of visiting on its opening day sounded grand and all... except none of the flowers outside were blooming. In fact, some of the plants were barely peeking their leaves through the clods of dirt. I was pretty sad until I saw some quirky "designer" gardens, climbed a windmill, smelled all of the orchids in the Beatrix Pavillion, and skipped by the blooming tulips in the Willem Alexander Pavillion. I really had to resist the temptation to pick the flowers, especially this really bright and happy yellow tulip that looked like it was crossed with a peony. It was as if someone knew I was going to be at the exhibition and decided to combine my two favorite flowers, which was a little creepy. 

As I said my goodbye to Amsterdam, I resolved to visit again sometime soon. Maybe when it's warmer because I would actually like to see flowers at a flower festival. Ten minutes into my flight, I fell asleep only to wake up landing in the Rome Fiumicino Airport. 

If I wanted to look at dirt, I could have just stayed in Seattle.

Upon exiting the terminal, I took a cab to my hostel, checked in, and smashed my duffel bag into the lift to get to my room. Despite feeling disgusting, despite being exhausted, and despite not being able to feel my legs anymore, all I really wanted to do at that time was to call home and say, "Mommy, all the packages of instant ramen you crammed into my bag are crushed."

I had made it. While peering into my reflection's bloodshot eyes as I brushed my teeth in the bathroom, I wondered about the distance that I traveled. The miles that I flew, the revolutions of the wheels of the trains, trams, buses, and taxis that I rode, and the steps that I took all within the span of 24 hours. A seemingly endless number that brought me to where I was standing, the eternal city that no longer existed only as an idea in my head.

I wasn't fully awake, but I definitely wasn't dreaming.

(As for that day's travel tip, you're not supposed to just plop your 1 quart zip top plastic bag full of 3 oz. bottles of liquids on top of your backpack. A TSA agent will probably scold you like you're a little child. Not that I'm speaking from experience or anything. Also! I can never have too many €1 or €2 coins. Lots of automated ticket machines take coins only, which is part of the reason why I missed the earlier train when I was trying to get out of the Schiphol Airport....)