When we arrived In Amsterdam in 1995, we saw a man standing in the train station holding a sign that said, “Apartment, $15 a night”. It sounds strange now with cell phones and internet making things so easy, but back in the 90’s in Europe, this was a common way to find a place to stay. Balthazar was a lovely gentleman who rented out a beautiful apartment to backpackers. It was a colorful place, with purple and orange walls. Our first night in the city, we looked for a place to perform to make travel money. With no internet, we wandered to the police station, and if I’m totally honest, we might have been a little giggly from the magic mushrooms we had snacked on at a local cafe. I couldn’t find a word for belly dance in my travel dictionary, so I had to do charades with the police officers to describe what we were looking for. “Belly” (point to belly)… “Dance” (We’d dance around the police station.) It took longer than one would think for the officers to understand what we were asking, maybe because we couldn’t stop laughing. And now that I think of it, can you imagine how entertaining it would be to be a police officer in Amsterdam? I would love to just spend a few days observing the kinds of weirdos they have walk into the station. In any case, back to our charades. I think what finally clicked for them was pretending I was playing finger cymbals over my head. They pointed and drew a path on our map with a red magic marker. The path led us to a Middle Eastern nightclub behind the palace called. El Turkije. Kim and I found our way there and auditioned on the spot for the managers and staff, even though I was wearing a turtleneck, skirt, and tights and Kim was wearing pink overalls and a big sweater. They hired us to perform our belly dancing acrobatic act for the next few nights. They also offered us a free place to stay above the restaurant, so we moved our things there.
The next night, we performed till midnight, and then headed out to explore the city by night. As performers, we knew most cities the best by night and we slept most of the day. Amsterdam is charming and fascinating with priceless people-watching, especially in the middle of the night. We met many wonderful characters: Pinocchio! A lion who’s mane looked exactly like my hair! Self-flushing toilets! (We had never seen a toilet like this before and we spent quite a bit of time walking in and out of the bathroom to make it flush on its own–just magic.) We hooked arms and landed at a cafe just before it closed at 3am. We looked at the menu of offerings, and decided to try the strongest offering, something called “Super Silver Haze.” True to its name, it truly does put you in a haze. We floated out of the cafe and I had the unpleasant sensation of my ears being on fire and no longer attached to my head. We discussed the condition of my ears and decided our best course of action was going to bed.
We walked back to El Turkije, turned into the alleyway where the entrance was, and it was gone.
Seriously, the entire restaurant had disappeared along with our things and our place to stay. We looked at each other, our eyes huge, then looked back at the wall that was now in place of the restaurant. I tapped my chin as we pondered what was happening. Did the entire restaurant just disappear? Were we in the right place? Or was this an illusion brought on by the Super Silver Haze? We walked up and down the alley staring at the wall.
And then things turned dark. Some guy eating French fries wandered down the alley way and nonchalantly asked us what we were doing. We said, “Our hotel has disappeared. It was right here.”
He then said, “I wonder what you’d do if I decided to rape you.” Seriously? In between your French fries you are going to attack us? Kim took off running in slow motion deeper into the alley. I grabbed her arm and said, “This way.” My anger overrode my fear, and I marched past the French-fry-eating psycho, pushing him out of our way. We looked for a policeman to report the scalliwag. We saw a police car and two officers sitting in their car, eating French fries. Apparently this is what people did in Amsterdam at 4am—ate French fries. I told the officers about the guy and they listened, dipping their fries in a thick sauce. One officer said, “Did he attack you?”
“No, not physically. He just threatened us.”
The officer shrugged. “What do you expect to happen to two girls in a dark alley in the middle of the night anyway?”
“You can’t be serious! He threatened us! That has to count for sexual harassment at the very least. And we should be able to walk where we damn well please at any hour and not be threatened! Are scoundrels allowed to roam the streets because it’s late?”
They shrugged and continued eating.
We were getting nowhere, so we decided to find a hotel. Thank goodness for Kim’s emergency credit card! We found a beautiful hotel and checked in at 5am! We ordered toothbrushes to be sent to our rooms and took hot showers and fell asleep safely in crisp white sheets. It was lovely, a few glorious hours of luscious sleep. But as soon as we woke up, we checked out. We had more adventures to experience, and they weren’t going to happen in crisp white sheets.
Post Script: We later learned that some restaurants and nightclubs pull giant metal walls down over their venue after they close. Who knew? The next day we were able to get back into the restaurant and retrieve our things. We decided we were ready to move on to our next adventure. Next on our trip? Paris!
