A quick foreword; if you are looking for a description of the photos I use in my blog, simply hover your cursor over the image for a couple seconds, and a brief description will pop up. Sorry for not mentioning it earlier, it’s easier for me to do captions this way.
The quest for cheap transportation drives backpackers to some pretty extreme lengths, like hitchhiking! I initially considered attempting this for my trek from Hamburg to Amsterdam, no doubt a world capital of people willing to pick up hitchhikers (Amsterdam that is). After reading one blog where it was reported to have taken a couple 7.5 hours to make the run (admirable considering the distance of 466km) I was nervous of the distance and time. Never having hitchhiked Europe before; not having the advantage of couple hitchhiking (it really does help); and not willing to be stuck on the highway after dark, I booked a Eurolines night bus that departed Hamburg at 10:30PM, arriving around 5:30AM. Getting back into Hamburg by train at noon-ish, I had some serious time to burn so I headed where all good backpackers like to go, an outdoor equipment store. I had stumbled upon Globetrotter (a German equivalent to Mountain Equipment Coop) during my previous time in Globetrotter, and took off by U-Bahn to explore this wonderland of equipment. Globetrotter is a four storey tall monstrosity, filled basement to top with amazing-ness (I know, I’m doing great so far making up words!). Globetrotters believes that you should be able to try before you buy which has led to the creation of a climate room in every one of their stores, which I believe can extend down to -40 celcius and THEN add wind chill with built in fans. Built next to a river, you can test out any boat in their extensive collection of canoes, kayaks, and small fishing boats outside. Quite surprising to any Canadian were the storey tall advertisement posters for Canada’s wilderness, although specifically targeted at Alberta, funded jointly by Travel Alberta and the Federal Government (at least one province has a convincing advertisement campaign!). There were magazines, flyers, free tour books and more all about exploring Canada the rough way. Also advertised was a video series on exploring Canada’s back country and ski slopes, which are all available online here. Checking out the tents and seriously considering, I was met by a friendly Welsh man who offered me coffee and conversation. After a lengthy discussion, he pointed me in the direction of the travel books (hard to miss at the size of a normal bookstore) and invited me to stay until they closed, handing me a complimentary coffee. I read up on my next destinations, checking out maps, eventually leaving with a new compass (a tool I sorely missed and will never leave home without again). I took a quick trip back to the Meininger Hotel in Hamburg and sneakily hung out in the lobby for a few hours using their internet (I’m bad, yes I am!) until I was ready to meet my bus.
The quest for cheap transportation drives backpackers to some pretty extreme lengths, like hitchhiking! I initially considered attempting this for my trek from Hamburg to Amsterdam, no doubt a world capital of people willing to pick up hitchhikers (Amsterdam that is). After reading one blog where it was reported to have taken a couple 7.5 hours to make the run (admirable considering the distance of 466km) I was nervous of the distance and time. Never having hitchhiked Europe before; not having the advantage of couple hitchhiking (it really does help); and not willing to be stuck on the highway after dark, I booked a Eurolines night bus that departed Hamburg at 10:30PM, arriving around 5:30AM. Getting back into Hamburg by train at noon-ish, I had some serious time to burn so I headed where all good backpackers like to go, an outdoor equipment store. I had stumbled upon Globetrotter (a German equivalent to Mountain Equipment Coop) during my previous time in Globetrotter, and took off by U-Bahn to explore this wonderland of equipment. Globetrotter is a four storey tall monstrosity, filled basement to top with amazing-ness (I know, I’m doing great so far making up words!). Globetrotters believes that you should be able to try before you buy which has led to the creation of a climate room in every one of their stores, which I believe can extend down to -40 celcius and THEN add wind chill with built in fans. Built next to a river, you can test out any boat in their extensive collection of canoes, kayaks, and small fishing boats outside. Quite surprising to any Canadian were the storey tall advertisement posters for Canada’s wilderness, although specifically targeted at Alberta, funded jointly by Travel Alberta and the Federal Government (at least one province has a convincing advertisement campaign!). There were magazines, flyers, free tour books and more all about exploring Canada the rough way. Also advertised was a video series on exploring Canada’s back country and ski slopes, which are all available online here. Checking out the tents and seriously considering, I was met by a friendly Welsh man who offered me coffee and conversation. After a lengthy discussion, he pointed me in the direction of the travel books (hard to miss at the size of a normal bookstore) and invited me to stay until they closed, handing me a complimentary coffee. I read up on my next destinations, checking out maps, eventually leaving with a new compass (a tool I sorely missed and will never leave home without again). I took a quick trip back to the Meininger Hotel in Hamburg and sneakily hung out in the lobby for a few hours using their internet (I’m bad, yes I am!) until I was ready to meet my bus.
The crowd you get on a bus is always a diverse group to say the least, and mine was no exception. From a very nervous looking Pakistani man, four Rastas, a very stern looking Oriental man, to a very pregnant lady and an Aussie backpacker, it felt like being in an episode of Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego (thanks for that one PBS). The bus ride was uncomfortable, long, and nearly sleepless. My sleeplessness was made possible by: frequent stops at which point two very greasy guys would get off and smoke half a pack of cigarettes (made the bus smell nice that’s for sure!); the Rastas’ VERY loud discussion of philosophy of everything that is, is not, and might be if only we smoke enough ganja; my Aussie companion who constantly needed some favour or another; a lady who talked on her phone ALL NIGHT; and last but not least, border guards! Hitting the Dutch border our bus was greeted by five heavily armed border guards, who boarded while I grabbed a few precious minutes of sleep. I was rudely woken by a shove to the shoulder, and greeted with the sight of a submachine gun, approximately in my face. They wanted a passport, and they wanted it now. Seeing my Canadian passport they took only a cursory glance at it, but I watched them go through the rest of the bus. The Middle Eastern man’s passport was examined for a good while and the visa number called in to be checked. Others on the bus received various levels of scrutiny, but none more than the Pakistani man. Here, I will let you draw your own conclusions.
After three broken hours of sleep, I awoke in the still sleeping city of Amsterdam at the grand hour of 5:30AM. Completely unfamiliar with the city but with a very good idea of where I was going (and armed with a compass and a bearing), I set off for my hostel. It was around an hour and a half walk, landing me there at around 7AM when I jokingly asked the receptionist, “I’m sorry, am I too late to check in?”. Apparently all sense of humour lost in this man, he stone facedly asked if I had a reservation (some people...I know...). He suggested I could sit in the reception area until check in (around noon). I inquired about their clearly advertised internet, and he informed me it had been broken for a day or so, but that someone was coming around noon to fix it. When I book a hostel, I have few criteria, mainly that the rating is at least 75% (I have broken this recently and regretted it), and it has free WiFi if at all possible. A little frustrated at this latest news, I decided to walk it off and make the most of my morning in Amsterdam in the lovely streets and along the canals. I
caught the NewEurope tour (free, as always) and enjoyed being spoon fed information about the city. I will blame it on my lack of sleep, but there are few things I remember from the tour. I pushed myself all day to keep awake, not wanting my schedule mixed up, but this effectively made this a day devoid of intellectual stimulation. I returned to my hostel mid afternoon and spoke with reception, learning that no efforts had been made whatsoever to fix the internet all day. The day time receptionist happily informed me that the internet had been out of commission for some time now, and it wasn’t likely to be fixed anytime soon. She happily checked to see if anyone had come that day to have a look, and informed me no efforts had been made recently to have it fixed. I suppose it wasn’t so much the fact that the internet wasn’t working, but that I was lied to that angered me. I politely told them I was unhappy with their false advertisement and more so by the staff member who had lied, and they politely (isn’t it great when we can all be polite!?) offered to ignore any cancellation charges and allow me to leave. No skin off their backs really, but I did lose my deposit through HostelWorld who take 10% deposit upon booking. I found the nearby Hostel Central in Amsterdam, and smell aside, it looked clean enough for my tastes; plus, it was cheap at only €11.50 a night. Once settled I realized there were definitely some hygiene issues in the hostel, but this was one of the better rated, non chain hostels in Amsterdam. There is always the option of the Flying Pig Hostel, or St. Christophers Hostel, but these cost some serious coin, even on weekdays. Weekends? Forget it; you might as well grab a cardboard box and a piece of sidewalk instead of the ~€40/night in a dorm on weekends at these places! I suppose that accommodation was a bit of an ordeal, but while I don’t want to say Amsterdam is a dirty city, it IS a bit of a dirty city and the hostels are just following suit.
After three broken hours of sleep, I awoke in the still sleeping city of Amsterdam at the grand hour of 5:30AM. Completely unfamiliar with the city but with a very good idea of where I was going (and armed with a compass and a bearing), I set off for my hostel. It was around an hour and a half walk, landing me there at around 7AM when I jokingly asked the receptionist, “I’m sorry, am I too late to check in?”. Apparently all sense of humour lost in this man, he stone facedly asked if I had a reservation (some people...I know...). He suggested I could sit in the reception area until check in (around noon). I inquired about their clearly advertised internet, and he informed me it had been broken for a day or so, but that someone was coming around noon to fix it. When I book a hostel, I have few criteria, mainly that the rating is at least 75% (I have broken this recently and regretted it), and it has free WiFi if at all possible. A little frustrated at this latest news, I decided to walk it off and make the most of my morning in Amsterdam in the lovely streets and along the canals. I
caught the NewEurope tour (free, as always) and enjoyed being spoon fed information about the city. I will blame it on my lack of sleep, but there are few things I remember from the tour. I pushed myself all day to keep awake, not wanting my schedule mixed up, but this effectively made this a day devoid of intellectual stimulation. I returned to my hostel mid afternoon and spoke with reception, learning that no efforts had been made whatsoever to fix the internet all day. The day time receptionist happily informed me that the internet had been out of commission for some time now, and it wasn’t likely to be fixed anytime soon. She happily checked to see if anyone had come that day to have a look, and informed me no efforts had been made recently to have it fixed. I suppose it wasn’t so much the fact that the internet wasn’t working, but that I was lied to that angered me. I politely told them I was unhappy with their false advertisement and more so by the staff member who had lied, and they politely (isn’t it great when we can all be polite!?) offered to ignore any cancellation charges and allow me to leave. No skin off their backs really, but I did lose my deposit through HostelWorld who take 10% deposit upon booking. I found the nearby Hostel Central in Amsterdam, and smell aside, it looked clean enough for my tastes; plus, it was cheap at only €11.50 a night. Once settled I realized there were definitely some hygiene issues in the hostel, but this was one of the better rated, non chain hostels in Amsterdam. There is always the option of the Flying Pig Hostel, or St. Christophers Hostel, but these cost some serious coin, even on weekdays. Weekends? Forget it; you might as well grab a cardboard box and a piece of sidewalk instead of the ~€40/night in a dorm on weekends at these places! I suppose that accommodation was a bit of an ordeal, but while I don’t want to say Amsterdam is a dirty city, it IS a bit of a dirty city and the hostels are just following suit.The next day was definitely a late morning. After playing a character from The Night of the Living Dead the entire day before, I had needed a solid sleep. I spent the day wandering around, and managed to get a pretty good feel for the city. Amsterdam is a charming city with its old buildings and canals. It’s canals are fed by river and according to my tour guide the day before, the whole canal system is opened sequentially each week to gradually flush out any garbage that may have accumulated, along with continuous efforts in surface garbage collection, keeping the canals quite clean. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of the streets where garbage is the common scum of the street.
The legalisation of marijuana and prostitution has indeed turned Amsterdam into the “Sin City” that everyone imagines it to be; it is no myth. In a country where English is taught well and early in schools, it is equally common on the street to hear English as it is Dutch, but you can’t
blame that on the Dutch. Of all the twenty something’s on the street, more often than not they aren’t from Amsterdam but a tourist from Europe or North America seeking take advantage of the Netherland’s liberalism. Not that the Netherlands minds. Drugs have long been a significant part of Amsterdam’s culture and for the police, a losing battle. More concerned about the hard drugs on the street than the pot which seemed to have few ill effects, the Netherlands decriminalized marijuana and initiated a policy of non enforcement. Only “legally” purchasable at a licensed “coffeeshop” (easily identifiable by the Jamacain colours usually displayed in the window and the haze drifting from any crevice to the outside), you can only smoke in the coffeeshop or at home, never in public. There is a limit to how much one can have on their person at any time, and anyone caught smoking in public can be subject to heavy fines (but no criminal charges because of decriminalization). The coffeeshops are staffed by helpful employees, experienced in all things pot, and able to assist a first timer or recommend something stronger for a genuine pot head; or so I hear. The effect of the veritable legalisation of the evil marijuana? While the use of hard drugs is up (I blame that on the tourists coming just to get stoned), the prevalence of “problem users” (aka addicts) of hard drugs is half that of the European average. I don’t have a source for this, but I imaging if you were to remove all of the drug seeking twentysomething tourists, the addict population would be even smaller. 
Of course, pot is only half of Amsterdam’s fame. Where would it be without prostitution!? Mainly catering to European businessmen seeking a weekend away from everything, prostitution is an unavoidable part of any visit to Amsterdam. This isn’t to say you must actively participate, but it is hard to feel that you aren’t involved whenever you walk down a street in Amsterdam’s red light. The solicitation of prostitution is illegal on the streets of Amsterdam, as are brothels, and pimping. Every woman works for herself, and advertises in business listings as escorts, or more commonly in the windows of Amsterdam’s streets. Lining the streets of the red light and others, windows allow you a glimpse at what you might have if you are willing to cough up the money. But the system is tightly regulated, and heavily guarded. The women are subject to constant testing for STI’s, and must be registered with the city. The fee system is regulated by time and “services”, and like any other worker, their wages are subject to income tax (so a hooker walks into an accountant’s office... start of a bad joke right?). While pimps may be a thing of the past in Amsterdam, “tough guys” inconspicuously patrol the streets, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble. As a single male traveller, at first it is awkward walking down the streets, as the ladies beckon from their cubicles, preening and holding themselves in such a manner as to suggest what might be if only I were willing to part with €40-200 and just 15 minutes of my night. Initially you divert your eyes, feeling...guilty that you should observe women in such a state, embarrassed that they are looking directly at you. After a while it becomes less awkward, and eventually funny, as you become more comfortable meeting their seductive gazes with a smile and simply shaking your head with a smile. They understand, 
you’re just a tourist out for a stroll and regardless of how hard they try, you just aren’t interested. The prostitution business is thriving in Amsterdam, and since the opening of the borders for work within the EU, many women from European countries are coming to work for a month or so, quickly earning enough money to support whatever it is that needs supporting. This isn’t to say I support the prostitution industry – I certainly didn’t give it my monetary support – but it is tightly regulated enough to ensure that no one is being forcibly exploited in the business. While it would take a psychologist to tell you the effects the industry have on the women involved, they have chosen to be involved, and can walk off the job at any time. From there it becomes an ethical debate, one which I chose not to have with myself on my blog. Feel free to let me know how you feel about the industry in the comments though, I’d love to hear your thoughts!
blame that on the Dutch. Of all the twenty something’s on the street, more often than not they aren’t from Amsterdam but a tourist from Europe or North America seeking take advantage of the Netherland’s liberalism. Not that the Netherlands minds. Drugs have long been a significant part of Amsterdam’s culture and for the police, a losing battle. More concerned about the hard drugs on the street than the pot which seemed to have few ill effects, the Netherlands decriminalized marijuana and initiated a policy of non enforcement. Only “legally” purchasable at a licensed “coffeeshop” (easily identifiable by the Jamacain colours usually displayed in the window and the haze drifting from any crevice to the outside), you can only smoke in the coffeeshop or at home, never in public. There is a limit to how much one can have on their person at any time, and anyone caught smoking in public can be subject to heavy fines (but no criminal charges because of decriminalization). The coffeeshops are staffed by helpful employees, experienced in all things pot, and able to assist a first timer or recommend something stronger for a genuine pot head; or so I hear. The effect of the veritable legalisation of the evil marijuana? While the use of hard drugs is up (I blame that on the tourists coming just to get stoned), the prevalence of “problem users” (aka addicts) of hard drugs is half that of the European average. I don’t have a source for this, but I imaging if you were to remove all of the drug seeking twentysomething tourists, the addict population would be even smaller. 
Of course, pot is only half of Amsterdam’s fame. Where would it be without prostitution!? Mainly catering to European businessmen seeking a weekend away from everything, prostitution is an unavoidable part of any visit to Amsterdam. This isn’t to say you must actively participate, but it is hard to feel that you aren’t involved whenever you walk down a street in Amsterdam’s red light. The solicitation of prostitution is illegal on the streets of Amsterdam, as are brothels, and pimping. Every woman works for herself, and advertises in business listings as escorts, or more commonly in the windows of Amsterdam’s streets. Lining the streets of the red light and others, windows allow you a glimpse at what you might have if you are willing to cough up the money. But the system is tightly regulated, and heavily guarded. The women are subject to constant testing for STI’s, and must be registered with the city. The fee system is regulated by time and “services”, and like any other worker, their wages are subject to income tax (so a hooker walks into an accountant’s office... start of a bad joke right?). While pimps may be a thing of the past in Amsterdam, “tough guys” inconspicuously patrol the streets, ready to pounce at the first sign of trouble. As a single male traveller, at first it is awkward walking down the streets, as the ladies beckon from their cubicles, preening and holding themselves in such a manner as to suggest what might be if only I were willing to part with €40-200 and just 15 minutes of my night. Initially you divert your eyes, feeling...guilty that you should observe women in such a state, embarrassed that they are looking directly at you. After a while it becomes less awkward, and eventually funny, as you become more comfortable meeting their seductive gazes with a smile and simply shaking your head with a smile. They understand, you’re just a tourist out for a stroll and regardless of how hard they try, you just aren’t interested. The prostitution business is thriving in Amsterdam, and since the opening of the borders for work within the EU, many women from European countries are coming to work for a month or so, quickly earning enough money to support whatever it is that needs supporting. This isn’t to say I support the prostitution industry – I certainly didn’t give it my monetary support – but it is tightly regulated enough to ensure that no one is being forcibly exploited in the business. While it would take a psychologist to tell you the effects the industry have on the women involved, they have chosen to be involved, and can walk off the job at any time. From there it becomes an ethical debate, one which I chose not to have with myself on my blog. Feel free to let me know how you feel about the industry in the comments though, I’d love to hear your thoughts!Getting a good feel for Amsterdam took all day, and it wasn’t until after dark that I got back to the hostel, bringing back some pastries to enjoy while catching up with everyone back home.
The next day I again woke late, and wandered to a small cafe (that’s for coffee, unlike a coffeeshop for pot) for a sandwich and coffee. Again, I indulged in my favourite activity, wandering the city the whole afternoon 
and successfully getting lost more than once. While I say lost, one is never truly lost in Amsterdam because of the shape of the canals, all leading eventually to the Central Station. After supper I joined a tour of the red light district with NewEurope tours. As always, the tour was highly educational, went to all sorts of interesting locales, and was good value for the €8 for student fare. Afterwards I hung out with a couple Americans and an Aussie for drinks before we abruptly split and went to our respective hostels; apparently they were exhausted. It turned out I was too, and after enjoying some Dutch doughnuts, I enjoyed the comfort of bed.
and successfully getting lost more than once. While I say lost, one is never truly lost in Amsterdam because of the shape of the canals, all leading eventually to the Central Station. After supper I joined a tour of the red light district with NewEurope tours. As always, the tour was highly educational, went to all sorts of interesting locales, and was good value for the €8 for student fare. Afterwards I hung out with a couple Americans and an Aussie for drinks before we abruptly split and went to our respective hostels; apparently they were exhausted. It turned out I was too, and after enjoying some Dutch doughnuts, I enjoyed the comfort of bed.The next day I had planned to go to Rotterdam, but finding no availability in hostels, I decided to stay another day. Inquiring at the desk, I discovered that since it was the weekend, the bed I was in was no longer €11.50, but around €36. The problem with Amsterdam for travellers is that it’s a hostel owner’s market. There are far more travellers than there are hostels, so the owners can jack prices up as high as they please on the weekends. The cheapest accommodation I could find in the city of sin was in a haven of Christian values. Checking into the Shelter Jordan (a reference to the neighbourhood, not the river), I was lectured on the beliefs of the hostel owners. Possession of, or being under the influence of alcohol or drugs, soft or hard, is prohibited on hostel property; bible study is at 19:00 and prayer is at 21:00 (non mandatory); swearing is discouraged; and by the way, all the staff are volunteers. While prohibiting possession of drugs doesn’t surprise me, I was surprised at the ‘under the influence’ part of their rules. While your hostel may be “Christian” – which apparently means you cannot indulge in alcohol, which I don’t seem to remember being a part of Christian beliefs – I’m not sure it’s appropriate to force those 
values on others which would only serve to discourage youth from Christianity, seeing it as a curmudgeon in a city of fun. Fun fact, did you know that the Pope imports Bavarian beer (he is Bavarian) to the Vatican because he dislikes Italian beer? That’s right, the Pope drinks, so why can’t other Christians? Maybe it’s because “Peter, Im’a da freakin’ Pope!” “Christian” values aside, it was impeccably clean, reasonably priced (€22/night), and secure. Feeling in the mood to be wholesome and pure, I set out for the Anne Frank House, my last sightseeing in Amsterdam. Although I have never read The Diary of Anne Frank, I know the story and was able to appreciate the significance of the publication. Standing in the attic which was the Franks’ prison, and peeking out of the windows which not allowed admitting light in or out, I decided that try as we might, no one will ever truly know the struggle which would have been daily life for the family for two years. I felt a chill which has only been repeated once since, at Dachau. While this was not a prison or death camp, to the Franks it was their prison for two years.
values on others which would only serve to discourage youth from Christianity, seeing it as a curmudgeon in a city of fun. Fun fact, did you know that the Pope imports Bavarian beer (he is Bavarian) to the Vatican because he dislikes Italian beer? That’s right, the Pope drinks, so why can’t other Christians? Maybe it’s because “Peter, Im’a da freakin’ Pope!” “Christian” values aside, it was impeccably clean, reasonably priced (€22/night), and secure. Feeling in the mood to be wholesome and pure, I set out for the Anne Frank House, my last sightseeing in Amsterdam. Although I have never read The Diary of Anne Frank, I know the story and was able to appreciate the significance of the publication. Standing in the attic which was the Franks’ prison, and peeking out of the windows which not allowed admitting light in or out, I decided that try as we might, no one will ever truly know the struggle which would have been daily life for the family for two years. I felt a chill which has only been repeated once since, at Dachau. While this was not a prison or death camp, to the Franks it was their prison for two years. This was my last night in Amsterdam, and I believe it was the best time to see the Anne Frank house. Amsterdam is truly a party city and the best way to see it is to join in. With an unbelievable nightlife and a scenic facade, you can easily spend a few nights in Amsterdam without visiting a single gallery or museum. The Anne Frank house is a good last stop, reminding you that today’s party city has quite a history, some of it delightfully fun, some of it very dark.
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