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Reports

During my travels, I received free accommodation for a night in exchange for writing a daily travel diary. This diary documented how I reached my next destination, the hosts who welcomed me, the food I was offered, and other experiences along the way. Below, you will find the archives of these extensive reports. Please note that English is not my native language, and most entries were written quickly, often around midnight. Enjoy!
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Wednesday, 2 May 2001
--> Amsterdam (NL)

I checked out of the hotel at 11 o’clock and decided to walk to the first highway exit, where I planned to catch a ride to Amsterdam. As I walked toward the off-ramp, I held up a sign reading “Amsterdam” along the busy streets—of course, with a big smile on my face. At 11:30, a car stopped behind me.

The driver began talking about how hitchhiking has changed over the years. Nowadays, Dutch students have free public transport cards that can take them anywhere in the country, which has significantly reduced real hitchhiking. Most of the hitchhikers he sees these days are third-generation hippies, looking disheveled, half-drunk, and smelling like weed.

He said I was an example of modern hitchhikers, looking more presentable, even though my goal was different from most. He dropped me off at a gas station in Muiden, near Amsterdam. I waited only 15 minutes before an old-timer Citroën driver picked me up. He was heading to Wibautstraat, one of Amsterdam’s main streets, which was exactly where I needed to go!

Life is indeed about being lucky.

I walked just one block to reach Caroline’s place. It was around 1 p.m., and since she wouldn’t be home from work until after 5 p.m., I had some time for sightseeing.

Although I had been to Amsterdam before and it didn't impress me as much as Paris or Brussels might, I decided to explore the city. I went to Oosterpark, one of the green spaces in the city, where I lay down in the sun on the grass and took a nap. The previous night’s radio show had left me in need of rest.

Three hours later, I woke up, feeling a bit sunburned and surprised by the lively activity around me. Kids were playing soccer, a woman was performing acrobatic stunts, and people were sunbathing. It seemed to be one of the first warm days of the year.

At 5 p.m., I met Caroline in front of her house. Caroline works at an internet company and is a very creative web entrepreneur. She runs several websites, including amsterdamstories.com, gavinfriday.com, U2log.com, virginprunes.com, tumbuan.com, and croon.org. She also writes two weblogs, prolific.org (in English) and vodb.com (in Dutch), where she covers daily life and web-related topics.

I asked Caroline why she manages so many websites. She explained, “If I didn’t work all the time, I’d have too much time to think,” which seemed quite reasonable.

Since the Gift was too big to keep hidden any longer, I presented her with the framed U2 picture as soon as we entered her apartment. She was thrilled and said she would email Patrick Kicken to thank him. She needed something to put on the wall above her piano, and the picture was perfect!

I explained the concept of the Gift to her. She then told me about a book she had written about her good friend Gavin Friday. Gavin Friday, who grew up with Bono from U2 in Ireland, is someone Caroline has been close friends with for nearly ten years. Caroline, a longtime U2 fan, wrote and self-published a book titled “The Light and Dark” about Gavin, describing him as a singer “who doesn’t sing with his voice only.”

As the Gift, Caroline decided to pass on a signed copy of her book to the next host I visit.

Caroline planned to buy groceries for my breakfast the next morning and suggested we eat out that night. We took the subway to Nieuwmarkt and visited a supermarket.

She recommended Poco Loco, a Mexican/Cajun restaurant where she had had great experiences. We sat on the terrace with a nice view of the square.

Unfortunately, the meal didn’t meet our expectations. The dishes were either tiny (almost haute cuisine with oversized plates), arrived late, or didn’t arrive at all. When we asked about desserts, the waitress offered “hellados, ice, and apple pie”—hardly what you’d expect from a Mexican restaurant!

Caroline was puzzled and wondered if the restaurant had a new owner or chef. The waitress mentioned that it was a particularly busy night, which didn’t seem accurate.

After this disappointing experience (and a recommendation to avoid Poco Loco in Amsterdam), we took a brief walk through the Nieuwmarkt area, explored Amsterdam’s Chinatown, wandered along the canals, and visited the Red Light District.

It was a strange sight to see a church surrounded by red-lighted windows. Other streets featured a mix of gay bars, pharmacies, tourist shops, and jeweler’s.

“Walking through Amsterdam is like walking in a painting,” Caroline remarked, and she was absolutely right. I’m curious to see which city will evoke similar feelings in the future.

After our semi-touristic tour, we decided to catch a movie. We stood in line for tickets and chose “Traffic,” a film directed by Steven Soderbergh.

It was refreshing to see such a unique, non-commercial film with its unsteady camera work and highly articulated Spanish dialogue. The film had an unconventional quality that made it stand out.

Definitely worth watching—if only for the appearances of Michael Douglas and Catherine Zeta-Jones. The movie was quite an experience.

To unwind, Caroline took me to Mulligan’s, a small Irish pub where we enjoyed authentic Guinness beer.

Caroline initially gave me money to order the beers, but when I returned, I found my pack of cigarettes was missing. Looking around the pub, I saw a group of English teenagers (around 17, visibly drunk and stoned from local coffee shops) happily sharing a pack of cigarettes.

I set down the beers and apologized to Caroline before approaching the group. I asked why they had taken my cigarettes. One of them claimed ownership, but I showed my lighter from Zwolle, which was in the pack.

After a moment of silence, one of the teens offered to collect money to replace the cigarettes, which seemed fair enough. They continued to apologize, and Caroline looked at me with wide eyes, surprised by my approach.

She mentioned she would never do anything like that. I didn’t understand why it was such a big deal to her, but I was simply trying to get my cigarettes back in a polite manner. Maybe it’s just part of who I am. Just don’t steal from me!

Around 1:30 a.m., we took a taxi home and spent some time online. With two computers in Caroline’s apartment, it was a sight to see two web enthusiasts clicking away into the night.

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