I am in the process of collaborating with my friend, the kinetic artist and demented genius of re-animation, Christiaan Zwanikken.
We were there to brainstorm, and test out my rented
Canon 7D.
(And of course take part in the liberal attitudes of Spinoza’s hometown.)
Even though it was cold and wet I had to rent a bike. Everything you do in Amsterdam- I mean everything is done by bicycle. So for 50 Euro, I had a bike for 9 days! Ok- my bike was described as nerdy, dorky, bulky, and came with a front basket, but for me it was perfect.
Riding around town was shocking. I am used to insane cab drivers, aloof pedestrians, and the occasional psycho bike courier in New York City. But none of this prepared me for the aggressive bicyclists of Amsterdam. They ride fast. They take pleasure in scaring stoned tourists. And parents ride with all of their children. An angry mom with three of her kids cut me off! They have these weird wheel barrel attachments in front that stores two children, and you can still have a child seat on the back. (Now, I’m all for progressive thinking, but this is liberalism gone horribly wrong.)
Yet somehow in the midst of all the chaos there is system that works. There are separate traffic lights for buses, cars, people and bikes. Bike lanes are integrated throughout the entire city grid, and it’s the most amazing way to experience Amsterdam.
Sitting in bars along the canals, watching the very same sunlight that inspired the master painters, it’s very easy to drink a lot of booze. It’s just that kind of European city. The weirdest sensation was hopping on my bike at 3AM, and riding very fast on cobble stone streets, over canals, completely buzzed on red wine. You ride in silence with anonymous hordes of drunk and stoned bicyclists in perfect harmony.
Hangover? No problem. I might go for the typical greasy breakfast to soak up the booze, but in Amsterdam we eat Haring. This is the miracle cure. The Haring comes from Denmark, where it is only caught three months of the year, and flash frozen on the boat. It is delicately gutted & de boned, and its’ only seasoning is a mixture of water and sound. Raw.
Its diced into small bite size pieces, over a bed of diced raw onion, and served with a pickle. I ate Haring almost everyday, except when I was eating smoked eel sandwiches. I believe this food is the reason these people are so damn healthy (and can party so hard.)
When I wasn’t eating Haring, I was exploring the incredible food of the Indonesian population of Holland.
The greatest gift of the Indonesians is the creation of the
Sambol- many varieties of hot sauce that go well with ANYTHING.
We had an incredible rice table meal one night, and their Sam bol with shrimp paste was the probably the best sauce I have ever tasted.
On our last night, Christiaan and I went out for a rather romantic meal, (sorry Leah) and enjoyed a savory Fondue. Because Chris knows his shit, he ordered a high proof cherry alcohol- where you dip the bread lightly into the drink, then slosh it around the fondue. I almost lost my bread into the mixture, and I was scorned immediately: According to Roman legend, if you lose your bread into a fondue with friends, you had to commit suicide right there at the table. Thank you Christiaan for the buzz-kill.
In 24hrs I fell completely in love with Amsterdam. I am a spoiled New Yorker (now living in Jersey City), and its hard for me transition to another place when I am used to late night bars and 24hr bodegas. But, here I can function on the same late night excursions, drink with a diverse crowd, and eat incredible food
