To be honest, I didn’t know what to expect before going to Amsterdam.  Sure, I knew weed is legal and so is prostitution, but beyond that I was a blank slate, ready to experience what the city had to offer.  Our hotel, situated on the edge of the famed Red Light District, was just a short walk from all of the coffeeshops.  We went into one, a wonderful, small, moroccan themed shop, and I was not prepared for what I experienced.  The initial shock is everyone in the shop is getting high.  Then, much like any other shop, there is a menu to order from… only instead of drinks or food the menu is a listing of the different types of weed you can buy.  Never having been in this situation before, I asked the gentleman behind the counter which he’d recommend.  He began to compare a few, then took another hit of the joint he was smoking, before proclaiming “I like them all man, I like them all.”

The Red Light District is truly a sight to behold.  Booths line the alleyways, illuminated by the distinctive red bulbs, filled with girls.  They are essentially, slabs of meat on display for public consumption.  Groups of young men, mostly in threes or fours, tourists from the west, psych themselves up on the open streets, only to walk past the booths in a hurried, embarrassed fashion.   Occationally one makes eye contact, garnering a wink from the girl and a tap on the glass.  He may even approach the booth, and ask how much.  He’s informed it will be 50 euros for “as long as it takes,” and he enters the booth, the curtain is drawn shut, and they head to the back room to finish the transaction.   It’s surreal, but the dutch walk by day in and day out thinking nothing of it.

Nightfall in the Red Light District isn’t much different.  I did lose count of the amount of times I was offered coke or heroin in the street, but for the most part everyone is chill.  There isn’t a large clubbing scene, and for the most part everyone retires to a pub or a coffeeshop.   Despite the night population’s high status and the narrow roads, I never once saw anyone hit by a car, vespa scooter, or bicycle.   the booths are filled, customers for women or live sex shows roam the streets.  And then all of a sudden the gorgeous monolithic church chimes it’s bells to the tune of a hymn.  This hymn flows over the city, in it, around it.  It’s religious tone strikes stark contrast to the Red Light District.  It’s heard over everything, by everyone: the prostitutes and their customers, the coffeeshop owners, the smokers, the drinkers, the angel-headed hipsters, the movers and shakers… echoing into the dark night only slightly illuminated by red bulbs.  Amsterdam after midnight, for the night owls.

Amsterdam is an amazing experience to which I would recommend to anyone.  The photos are uploaded and you will find them in the gallery in the first album.

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