Vacation Part VI: Are We There Yet?

Oh, Amsterdam. It has a strange, two-sided reputation. Since coming home, I've been asked one of two questions about Amsterdam. Either: "What did you see?" Or: "Did you do drugs?" 

The answers are lots of things and no. 

But to the first question, there were lots of things that I kind of wish I hadn't seen. In wandering around the old center, we wandered into the red light district on accident. Oops. It was eleven in the morning however, and I would have thought that this part of town would be quiet, but no, it was lively and bustling. Well, sort of. We did see some ladies in the windows of sex shops, but they were bored and weatherworn in their unseasonable bikinis, jiggling dutifully behind the glass and checking facebook on their smartphones. 

Then we went to a church. We were still more or less in the red light district, and probably should have figured that it was not a normal church, but all the same I was not mentally prepared for what we found inside. It wasn't sex or debauchery, no, it was...

Modern Art.

Inside this beautiful old work of art, there were lots of little, new, not-so-beautiful works of... something? Okay, so I tend not to be a fan of modern art, in the abstract, deliberately obtuse and supposedly (though no one can say how) symbolic sense. I like my art simple: a painting of a tree with flowers. It's a tree with flowers, it represents springtime. End of story, now enjoy how the artist has used color and space and flowing lines to draw attention.

I dislike modern art because it makes me feel unsettled. I can't get over the "What is it supposed to be" phase and move on to the "what is the artist trying to express stage." Why is a pile of plastic sushi floating in a kiddy pool special? What effort did it take to create that? There is no context, and therefore no meaning beyond what I pull out of my own ass. It symbolizes the fragility of the oceans. Or the solitude of the artist. Or the hedonism of the modern age.

Anyway, there's my rant.

There was one other thing I wish I hadn't seen in Amsterdam, and that was the bill from the pub. Maybe I've been spoiled here in Lugo (yes, I have been) but about 60 euro after tip was absurd. Anywhere else and you'd think we were either alcoholics or fine wine connoisseurs. It was a nice pub, but not that nice.

But there were some things I was happy I saw, namely the botanical gardens. Cycads are awesome!

Also, gofres! (Spanish for waffle, but I like the spanish better) I had had a gofre craving since seeing them in the carts of street vendors in Barcelona, but for whatever reason, I didn't get around to it until Amsterdam, and while it was more expensive, it was also more appreciated as a nice pick-me-up from a cold day of walking.

Annie and Laura got melty chocolate puddingcakes

And so, after one more night in the hostel, we went to this place:

(it's the airport)

And caught our flight to Barcelona again, where we had a six hour layover for the flight to Santiago. Now, it just so happened that the receptionist at the hostel in Amsterdam happened to be from Sitges, that same little town we mistakenly ended up in while trying to get to the airport from Barcelona. We took that as a sign, and navigated RENFE (the amtrak of Spain) to kill an afternoon in Sitges. It's also kind of funny to note that Annie (who studied some Catalan in college) never really had the chance to use her Catalan in Barcelona, but she did in Amsterdam.

Photos of Sitges:

After that, we caught our flight, stayed in a hostel in Santiago, met a crazy lady (she was very nice and friendly though) on our way to the bus who showed us the "penis street" and tried to take us to the soup kitchen, which we declined then caught the bus and finally made it home. 

Dear lord, this has been a marathon of writing. Well, a 5k at least. Thanks for sticking with me.