.........This wasn't one of those mornings, this was one of those, peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth and hobble to the toilet despite the fact that you have slept in a dodgy position for only about 4 hours and you wish that you wouldn't miss anything if you just barricaded the door and curled up for the whole day.
Unfortunately you're not allowed mornings like those with Niña around. Despite the fact that we ran out of expresso yesterday and Diddley has a look in her eyes that i remember from my sister(Who also doesn't like mornings), Niña appears to be dancing.
I suggest that we quickly get showers and head off to the supermarket for something for breakfast - but I am reminded that we are 24 hour party people and don't need to showers to go to the supermarket.
We head off - dancing and skipping as we go. Niña is like me - an iPod devotee. She has almost always got at least one ear phone in:
So we are hungover, but ignoring it and skipping through the streets of a very quiet area of Amsterdam on a Saturday morning with Niña singing Brabara Streisand at the top of her voice.(yes nine inch nails sit side by side with Barbara Streisand on this iShuffle)
The locals are giving us some bizarre looks. I have to explain to Niña that the strange thing about Amsterdam is that while complete nutterness such as naked roller blading is acceptable, mild nutterness such as singing Brabara Streisand at the top of you voice isn't acceptable.
We make it to the supermarket and go through ingredients for about four possible breakfast(Pancakes, fry up, smoothies etc), until we settle on something called "Country Breakfast". It is an invention of Niña and involves potatoes.
"Taters?? What is.... Taters??"
From looking at the ingredients it appears to be some kind of morning stodge.......
Did she see it on a cookery program? Did she have it in a fine restaurant? Did she assimilate it from a book of assorted breakfast stodges? No she used to eat it in a supermarket cafe, and they discontinued it. So to spite them, Niña is cooking it for us.
I could do a whole blog on a trip to a Dutch supermarket, but I'll try not to. Bizarrely, although, this is the cheap supermarket, they have more exotic ingredients than the expensive supermarket - i.e. Mature Cheddar Cheese. I'll know not to pay about 15 euros for a huge block from a specialist next time I'm having a dinner party.
We hop skip and jump back up the road, stopping along the way for a Turkish bread.
I can't tell you what a great invention Turkish bread is. They have Turkish bakers on every corner over here. the bread tastes so good and is designed in such a way that its perfect for tearing, which ties in so well with all the Scottish soups stodges etc. It's also a great bread for the park.
Anyway - we're back home, me and Diddley clearing up last nights carnage while Niña cooks breakfast. We watch a few DVD's and eat great breakfast - dipping bread, mushrooms fried in Lemon, garlic potatoes, bacon - no wonder we can party and drink so much - look what we have for breakfast!!!!
Before long we are freshened up and ready for the off. We skip out the door walking in unison to take the tram 13 to the end of the Prinsengracht to walk through the Melee of the Gay parade as it's just warming up. we get off the tram in the rain - I'm wearing shorts, as it was sunny three blocks away(Maybe I overdosed on Country Breakfast).
There is very loud music - Doris Day singing "Que Sera Sera":
Although we're an hour early, there really isn't anywhere else that is likely to play Doris Day through a PA other than the Gay Pride festival of Amsterdam.
The Gay Pride festival happens every year in Amsterdam. It centres around a boat parade where various themed boats(The theme usually being scantily clad buff men), cruise around the prinsengracht which is one of the canals which for a ring around the centre of Amsterdam. Everyone gets involved, and it's quite a lot of fun. I can't really imagine Glasgow being as liberal as this, but that's why we travel I suppose. Theres various street parties. It'ss very much like Konninginnedag except instead of wearing orange, they wear pink.
Basically it's a weekend when an influx of gays from other countries make the city just a little camper for the weekend:
SO we wander along the Prinsengracht with the girls ogling lots of naked men in the rain. I think it is terrible the way men are objectified as pieces of meat during the gay parade, but anyway - we continue along the Prinsengracht to a friends house which is a great vantage point for watching the parade:
The parade is pretty weak compared to previous years. It get's weaker for me every year, because I get more used to it, but this year was the first year I was at the parade when it'd been raining. The girls, however, sat at the window glued to every boat coming past. They clearly have a real interest in the different types of canal boats in use in Dutch canals:
After a few drinks and some boogying to gay summer hits(In the rain), we hit the streets again to lap up some of the atmosphere. We walked down to where the boats were congregating on the Amstel River. We decided that since it was about 5.30 we'd get the tram back to the flat where the girls could get showered and dolled up for a night of dancing and partying.
I start to get worried. Amsterdam has a different culture than Glasgow. In Glasgow women usually get dolled in min skirts and lots of make up for a night out that isn't that special. In Amsterdam, you can wear ripped jeans and converse trainers to some of the most prestigious events on the social calendar.
It takes about three hours for the girls to curl their hair and put on makeup and do various women's things. We have went very Scottish and are drinking vodka and red bull. We take advantage of my Polish Souvenirs:
While we are drinking away dancing to music and the girls are getting ready, as they take longer and longer, I worry that we they are going to be ridiculously out of place in the relaxed Amsterdam. Eventually they emerge from the bedroom. My fears were ridiculous - they look stunning, the have spent hours dressing down to some sort of Bo-Ho fashion. As we leave the flat, I am escorted to the tram stop by two beautiful women, making me feel very proud of being Scottish for some reason.
We return to the party which is now in full swing Salsa mode. Niña is straight onto the dancefloor with the Colombians while Diddley and I have a few drinks before settling into the atmosphere, within a few songs my shoes are off and I am salsa-ing and sweating with the best of them. This goes on for about 5 hours. Drink flows, songs flow, dancing carries on. The commonality to it all is that people keep on asking me "Are all Scottish women like this??" I of course reply in the affirmative. If all Scottish women are like this, then my memory is blurred, because I don't remember Scotland being this much fun. The salsa kings are now winding up for the night(i.e. Acoustic Shakira songs)
It's about 3am. The girls have decided that they want to go clubbing. They are looking for some R and B. I suspect the answer might be in my vinyl collection, but I keep quiet cos I'm not much of a clubbing person:
The most famous club in Amsterdam is Escape. That's all I know. When people ask for a club the answer is Escape. With this in mind, many people have recommended that the girls go to Escape:
From the word go, the neon lights bring back so many memories of my student days when the only place that anyone was going was these student clubs. I could never fit in to this world where you're only point of communication was your looks and you dress sense. Remove your ears, your voice, and make the lighting dark; it really puts me on edge. Maybe it's because I like music so much and this is one genre that I don't have a passion for, but I detest clubs.
Anyway - we pay whatever the charge is and go up the neon lit stairs to get the standard E'd up rave view. Repetitive music and people with no pupils in their eyes dancing manicly:
Luckily the girls detest it as much as I do - I knew they were classy burds, so we finish our Jack Daniels and go. My theory is that people are more interested in showing that they can name a club in Amsterdam so they name the big popular one. I would give the same answer. It's the centre of the clubbing scene. What you forget is that this is Europe so tastes are different. i.e. people like their bad Ned-like techno.
I'm now shattered, but the girls are determined to seek out Amsterdam's elusive R and B. After the advice of a bouncer we head off to Sinners:
This is better. It's at least marginally interesting in it's decor, music and people. It's still not R and B apparently. It's after 4am, and I am reallly starting to wane. the music doesn't pick me up the same James Brown and Colombian did an hour ago. Even the girls' Duracells are dulling in this environment. After a few drinks we take our goodie bags at the door and we're skipping into the street again with balloons tied to our wrists.
We get in a Taxi to go home, and the Taxi driver provides the last entertainment of the evening. He has a voice that sounds very like John Belushi's in the Restaurant scene of the Blues Brothers.("How much for zee veemin???):
We get in the car and he starts on the girls. His accent has me in Knots:
Taxi: So you have good night? See nice boys.
Girls: Lots of pretty boys - it was the gay parade - but they're not interested
Taxi: You try to change their mind
Girls: Yeah sometimes, they are so good looking you are convinced you can....
Taxi So... you like zee geerls?
Girls: ....Theres just no changing them tho.....
Taxi: You eever been weeth zee geerls?
Girls: .....You flirt, you make passes....
Taxi: Like - a - you love zee geerls together? You like zee weeemin?
Girls:.....nothing. They're not interested in your body....
Taxi: I have philosphy. You like zee men cos you can't have heem. You should go veef zee veeemin. Veemin together good.
Girls:.....Such a shame. loss of a good looking guy.......
And so on.
Finally I crawl into my bed after watching the first half hour of Men in Black II with Niña.
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