As I sat on the plane, my mind began to wander. I had this weird fear that something might go wrong like I would get mugged or something or maybe there was some fundamental mistake in my trip planning.  I was reminded of the time my wallet was stolen in Brussels and I certainly didn’t want anything like that to happen again.  And then I thought about how much fun I had when I lived in Stuttgart.  I have very fond memories of my experience in Germany.  I then felt a slight rush of emotion and almost reliving some of my experiences in my head.  Then I figured I just had to be confident with my trip preparations and let myself have fun on this trip.  After all, not many people get an opportunity like this.

After my unfortunate disaster in Brussels, my friend and I took the first train out of the city.  When we arrived in Amsterdam, I immediately felt a huge tourist vibe in the city.  Unlike Brussels, the tourist population here was much larger.  It also felt safer.  By the way this post might have some “mature themes” because of the Red Light District stuff.

Coffee Shops and Other Strange Places

During our walk to the hostel from the train station, we began see some pretty strange yet touristy places.  For example, along the way, there was a Vodka Museum and a Torture Museum (they’d actually present different pre-modern torture devices), and of course a lot of “coffee shops”.  For those who don’t know what a coffee shop in Amsterdam is, it is where people go to legally smoke weed.  A place for people to drink coffee is simply called a cafe.  Many people go to Amsterdam for that reason, but not me though.

It wasn’t just the Vodka Museum that was weird, they even had stores selling cannabis seeds, which I guess is okay because weed is legal, but coming from a place where it isn’t, it definitely struck me as weird.  To take that even further, there is even a Cannabis Museum.

After walking through the town square for a little bit, we arrived at Dam Square, the historic center of Amsterdam.

Dam Square

As the historic center, this area has a lot of notable buildings such as the Royal Palace, New Church, National Monument, and Madame Tussaud’s Museum.

This is where I noticed the ridiculous amount of bicycles.  In fact, I saw more people riding bicycles than people driving cars.  When I crossed the street, I looked for bikers and not drivers.  Making our way further into the city, we began to see the large network of canals.

The Canals

Another thing that Amsterdam is famous for is its canals.  Built in the early 17th century, city planners had the idea of constructing this network for the purposes of defense and water management.  Today, people dub it as “The Venice of the North” and it is quite a cultural landmark.

The canal receives its water from the Amstel River (there is a beer named after it).  According to Wikipedia, because of the canals, there are about 90 islands and 1500 bridges.

Nieuwmarkt

While walking to the hostel, we reached the New Market, which is another city square.  In the center there is a city gate that has been long converted into a cafe/restaurant.

Turns out our hostel was less than 100 meters from here.  We went there and dropped off our stuff before we continued exploring.

The Christian Hostel

Before we left, Germany, my friend booked a place for us at this Christian hostel.  I’m not even Christian, but that didn’t matter.  It had a lot of rules like no smoking, no alcohol, no weed, etc, which was okay.  The ironic thing was that when I walked into my room (this was at around 2 PM in the afternoon), I saw a few people passed out on their beds.  I thought to myself, “they probably just drank too much beer or smoked too much weed.”  The hostel didn’t really care, so long as they didn’t bring that stuff in.  They even had a “bible study”.  I really wonder who would go to that.

Chinatown

Next to the New Market Square was Amsterdam’s Chinatown.  My first impression of this place was that the Chinese stuff here was really traditional unlike the multitude of westernized Chinese food places I always see in Germany (not a big fan of chicken chow mein or kung pao chicken).  This place even had a temple with Buddha and various people from Chinese folk religions like Guan Yu.  The butcher’s shop even sold entire slabs of an entire pig (like the ones that some Chinese people use for celebrations).

After walking through Chinatown, we proceeded to our next destination: the infamous Red Light District.

The Red Light District

Before going to Amsterdam, I already knew that the Netherlands legalized weed and prostitution and so I figured that these things would be really prevalent in the city.  Indeed they were.  Walking down the street, I could smell the odour of weed coming out of every coffee shop.  On top of that, if the business I walked by wasn’t a coffee shop, it’d be a sex shop. 

There even some businesses geared towards gay people.  They proudly waved a rainbow flag outside their establishment.  The Dutch are clearly really open about these things.

At first I walked by a lot of brothels without really knowing that I did (I had no idea what they looked like).  It was only when I noticed that some buildings had a row of windows with curtains over them.  In one of the windows, a woman wearing lingerie displayed herself for potential customers.  I noticed that the building didn’t have a banner or any label.  I guess people see that and just know (notice the guy who appears to be in deep contemplation in the picture).

They even had a condom shop that sold condoms with different shapes (they even had a Statue of Liberty condom).

This city has such a strange blend of an old European vibe mixed with the vices of modern people.  It is kind of interesting yet sad to see people indulging in such things.

The XXX Flag

In a lot of places, we kept seeing a flag with a giant “XXX” printed on it and at first, my friend and I thought it just meant what everyone knows it as.  Then we started seeing this on the side of old churches and even on police badges.  We wondered what its actual meaning was.  Apparently, that’s the flag of Amsterdam.  What a crazy coincidence.

Another thing really common in the city is the crazy amount of churches.  I didn’t really count how many I saw, but I wouldn’t be surprised if I saw at least five or six of them.

Lots and Lots of Churches

There isn’t really anything to explain here.

There are more, but I didn’t bother posting them.

Anne Frank House

While randomly walking, we stumbled on the Anne Frank House, the building that her family lived in during the Nazi occupation of the Netherlands.  For those who don’t know who Anne Frank is, she was a victim of The Holocaust who wrote a diary, now published into a booked called “The Diary of a Young Girl”, documenting her life between 1942 and 1944.  The building has now since become a museum for people to visit.  Inside the museum, people could see the conditions that she lived in and some of her personal paraphernalia.  Unfortunately, I couldn’t go in to see the museum for my self since my wallet got stolen (damn bastards!).

After walking for almost the entire day (I reckon we walked about 30 kilometers that day), we went to go buy food.  We would have been hungry a lot earlier if we didn’t stuff our faces at the breakfast buffet at our hotel back in Brussels.  Knowing that the Netherlands was famous for its fries, that’s what we got.

Dutch Fries

The most unique thing about their fries is that they do not serve it with ketchup.  The main sauce they use is mayonnaise.  When I first heard about that, I thought it was the weirdest thing.  I had never thought of combining those two things together.  After trying it, I can say that I’m never having fries with ketchup ever again.

Another cool thing about their fries is that they serve it in a nice conic container with a wooden fork-like utensil.

Other Dutch Delicacies

Although not as significant of a consumer of cheese as Germany and France, Amsterdam still has shops dedicated completely to cheese.  Now I don’t know much about cheese, but the cheese in the store looks so delicious (I like the colour too).

Another thing that the Dutch are famous for is their beer.  Everybody knows Heineken in North America (probably), but it’s really expensive there.  Here, it’s like a staple, so I had to try it.  We sat at a table overlooking the canals and enjoyed the view while we drank our beer.

Afterward, we made our way to Museumplein, also known as Museum Square.

Museumplein

We went here that night and also the next morning.  This area houses four museums: the Rijksmuseum, the Van Gogh Museum, the Stedelijk Museum, and the Diamond Museum.  In addition, there is also a concert hall and a giant sign for the city.

In addition to going to Museumplein that morning, we went to the flower market first.  I was told that the Netherlands were also famous for its tulips.

The Flower Market

As I expected, there were indeed many varieties of flowers.  They even sold little ceramic “shoes” (basically a shoe shaped container) that people can use to grow their flowers in.  I also can’t really say I was surprised when I saw cannabis seeds there too.

After checking out this place, we went to a nearby park called Vondelpark.

Vondelpark

This place was basically a place for people to just relax or exercise and wasn’t really a touristy place.  Either way, for people that enjoy seeing nature (I’m not exactly a HUGE fan myself), this is a good place to go.

After going here, we went to Museumplein to see the place during the day.  After chilling out there for a little bit, we went back to the town center for some food before our train back.  We left in the early afternoon and by the time we went back to Stuttgart, there was time for a beer before going home.  Throughout the whole trip (Brussels and Amsterdam), I only spent around 80 euros with accommodations included, but not train tickets.  I ended up borrowing that money from my friend and we both had just enough.

More photos here

Whenever one mentions the city of Brussels, a few things come to my mind, mainly chocolate and beer.  Before actually visiting the city, I really expected that sort of thing, but I was wrong…oh so wrong.

We left in the morning of the 11th in a very uneventful train ride that lasted for about six hours before we actually reached the city.  Upon arrival, we got off the train in a very typical looking European train station.  We walked around the city and found our hotel.  They assigned us a room for four people even though our party only had two people (we would have had more people if we could have arranged it in time).  The room even had a flat screen TV and a bathtub (not just a regular shower!).  What a great first impression.

After dropping off a few things, we went out to explore.  We didn’t really have a plan as to what we wanted to see, so we walked from one place to another with an attitude like, “hey, that looks cool, let’s go there.”  Using this method of exploring, we saw a few buildings with really cool architecture, like the Basilica of the Sacred Heart, and the Square Ambiorix.

After reaching the basilica, we realized that we ventured really far from the city center, so we decided to take the metro to the city center.  At the metro stop, we looked on the map to see which direction we needed to go in.  One of the local with his family waited at the metro stop and saw us looking at the map and so he explained how to get to the city center.  I suppose he could instantly tell that we were tourists.  The guy seemed nice, but almost too nice.  I found that kind of suspicious and we avoided him for the rest of the metro ride.

We went on the metro, and off we went.  A direct route to the city center didn’t exist from where we were so we had to transfer to a different train.  One thing I noticed right away at our transfer station was the fact that there were so many people trying to cram on a train.  I saw this and knew that could be trouble.  Before going to Brussels, I had read on the Canadian foreign affairs site about what to look out for in Belgium.  It explicitly warned travellers about pickpockets operating at metro stations.  Knowing this bit of information, I pretty much kept my hands in my pockets the whole time to prevent anybody from getting in there.

As I got on this crowded train, I did my best to get on the train while watching out for any petty thieves.  At one point, my mind wandered, and my hands left my pocket.  During the time between getting on the train and cramming on with everyone else, the dextrous hand of a pickpocket reached into the left front pocket of my jeans and grabbed hold of my precious wallet.  Not long after, I noticed my empty pocket and immediately knew what happened.  I had let my guard down for less than a minute and disaster struck.  In a panic, I looked around for where my wallet could have gone even though I knew that all of my attempts would prove futile.

I looked at my friend and simply said, “somebody stole my wallet”.  My friend then looked at me with an expression that said, “are you kidding me?”  Normally, I joke around a lot, but never about something like this.  I was dead serious.  I knew what I had to do next.  Call the credit card company to block my credit card and go to the police station to report the crime.  I didn’t really see a point in reporting the crime since they couldn’t really do anything to get my stuff back, but I might need the report as proof for losing the cards that I had in there.

I talked to the first staff member of the metro I found and asked him where one would go to report a crime.  I followed his instructions and when I arrived at the station, I found a police outpost.  I went inside to talk to the police about the crime, but they simply told me that they were closed for the day and directed me back to the place I came from for help.  Really?  Are the police in this city that incompetent?

Knowing that I couldn’t really get these people to help me, I went back to where I came from.  I went up to the information point and asked an employee there where I could go.  Two security guards came out and directed me to yet another police outpost.  This one had closed too.  Okay, whatever, so what if the police here suck?  At the very least, I had to call to cancel my credit card.  I asked the security guards where I could have access to a phone to cancel my card.  They led me to the nearest phone booth.  Really?  My wallet was stolen.  How could I possibly have any money to make a phone call?  They clearly weren’t very bright. 

Afterward, one of the security guards took out his cell phone and called a number for stopping credit cards.  After talking to the guy on the other end, I found that he could only block credit cards local to Belgium and he gave me a different number to call (I really hate bureaucracy).  The security guard looked at the number I just wrote down and just shook his head.  He probably didn’t want me calling it because it was a long distance number.  I guess he cared more about his phone bill than helping someone out.

The next thing they did was direct me to an actual police station nearby.  Luckily, they were still open when I arrived.  I borrowed their phone and called the number that the security didn’t let me call earlier.  The guy on the other end told me that this number only works for Visa cards.  I had a MasterCard.  I was given yet another number to call except this time, the number didn’t work.  I don’t know how I was able to interact with so many incompetent people in one day.  I thought about what I could do next and realized that I could call home and ask my parents for the correct number.  I briefly told them about what happened over the phone, assured that everything else was okay and that I didn’t lose my passport.  They gave me the number; I called it; and then got my card blocked.  I even arranged for a new card to be sent to me.

The next step thing to do was to get the police report.  I waited around for an hour or two and finally got everything done.  I basically told the guy what happened, where it happened, and what was in my wallet.  My wallet had 170 euros, driver’s license, my student ID, two bank cards, a credit card, my Bahn 25 card, and my Stuttgart metro pass.  By now it was 8:30 at night.  I hadn’t eaten since the morning either so I was immensely hungry.  Using money I borrowed from my friend, I went to eat at McDonald’s.  Afterward, I spent the rest of the night walking around the city.  Despite the fact that I wasn’t in the mood to do anything anymore, I still walked around the city and saw what I could.  During my walk, I could see how shady the city actually was.  Some parts of the city were dominated by shady streets full of foreign immigrants.  I suppose that’s the reason for why some people here need to resort to stealing to make a living.

The next morning, we took the first train out and went to Amsterdam.  We had already booked our accommodations there before leaving Germany, so it didn’t make sense to go home early.

When I told my friends this story about my wallet, a few of them found it really surprising that pickpockets managed to steal out of a front pocket.  It surprised me at the time too.  Some of my friends even shared stories about how someone they knew once got pickpocketed in Brussels too.  If only I had known that earlier.  I guess it’s like what my parents said afterward, “I learned my lesson the hard way and paid for it with my wallet.”

More photos here

This post is dedicated to how we almost got stranded in Normandy and “misdropped” just like the American paratroopers on D-Day Minus 1 back in 1944. We were right where we were supposed to be, but nothing else was.

Getting to Normandy

Having researched this part before leaving for France, I knew that trains ran from Paris to Caen from Paris Saint Lazare Station. And with our EURail Pass, we could just board any of these trains freely and go at whatever time we wanted. I had booked a hotel in Saint Lo, and the plan was to visit Caen, and then get to Saint Lo in the evening.

Caen

Caen was a city with a rich history, but I only knew it from the Battle of Caen during the larger Battle of Normandy in 1944. While here, I saw a lot of war memorials and architecture leftover from the days of William the Conqueror.

The city itself was very beautiful and really had a French vibe. Unlike Paris, this place isn’t as frequented by tourists. And also the French people here are a lot less snobby and more nice to foreigners. People in Normandy also seem to have immense respect for Americans and the British.

I also got to see the horse statue that always appears in World War II games that feature Caen in it (e.g. The Caen map in Day of Defeat). I’m not sure if it’s the same horse statue, but this one sure reminded me of it.

After staying for a bit in Caen, we decided to go to Saint Lo. In order to do that we had to make a stop in Bayeux and make a transfer.

Bayeux

This is where the shit started to hit the fan. We arrived in Bayeux just to find out that all the buses were closed and there were no more trains going to Saint Lo until 11 at night. By the time we arrived in Bayeux it was around 9:30. We weren’t even sure if that train at 11 was even going to come. The only solution to get to Saint Lo was with a taxi. We looked around the station and saw a bunch of advertisements for D-Day beach tours until we finally found a number for a taxi. When the taxi driver came, he told us that it would cost a lot of money to get to Saint Lo from where we were. So then we tried to look for a place to stay in this city, but since D-Day is a high season for tourism in Normandy, it proved impossible to find a hotel/hostel with room for us. In the end we had to take the taxi anyway. When we called for a taxi the second time, the same taxi driver came back to pick us up too. It was kind of strange. Before actually picking us up, the taxi driver told me he’d come back in five minutes and then ten minutes later he was still not back. I called out in frustration, “five minutes my ass!”, and then a minute later, the taxi driver came back.

While looking for a place to stay, we wandered around time wondering what we were going to do. But even in our crisis, I somehow still kept a really chill attitude on the outside, although I was quite frustrated on the inside. I was still in the mood to take lots of photos though. While walking around, one of my friends broke out in song and started singing a song about how we were “lost in the middle of nowhere.”

Saint Lo

As the taxi entered Saint Lo and started driving to the outskirts of the city, we realized that the hotel we booked was in the middle of nowhere. Even though it was 7 km from the city center, the town only had a population of about 20000 people. The man at the hotel greeted us and checked us in. Inside the hotel we found pamphlets for the city bus that we would use to go to the city center the next day. And from there, we’d take a train/bus to a nearby town and go to the D-Day beaches. Looking further into the pamphlets, I discovered that the bus wouldn’t run on Sunday. It just so happened that we arrived on Saturday night. That sucked a lot.

The next morning, I asked the man at the hotel how to get to the city center and to the D-Day beaches and using his heavy French accent (it was kind of cool to hear), he told us that the only way to do it was using a taxi. That was definitely not the answer I wanted to hear. Before coming to France, I was under the misconception that the trains here would be well connected and that transportation to the D-Day beaches would not be a problem so I did not plan my transportation in Normandy in such detail. It was more of a “figure it out when we get there” sort of thing.

Rather than taking a taxi, we tried to walk to the city center and about 15 minutes into our walk, we all kind of got tired of walking and didn’t feel like walking 7 km, so we went back to the hotel to call a taxi. Luckily, the man at the hostel was very helpful (probably the nicest French guy I’ve come across), and he gave us the phone number for the taxi in the city. When we arrived at the Saint Lo train station via taxi, we found that there were no trains running to where we wanted to go. That is when we figured, “okay, maybe it’s time to get outta here.” We looked at the train departures again, and the next train to Caen wasn’t until 3 PM, and it was only 10 AM or so when we arrived at the Saint Lo station. We decided that the best plan of action now was to just cancel our second night at the hotel and go back to Stuttgart.

Instead of taking a taxi back to the hotel, we walked back to the hotel, cancelled our second night’s stay and walked back to the train station. Luckily the nice Frenchman at the hotel did not penalize us for cancelling our second night. I’m sure he realized that we were all having a hard time trying to arrange transportation to the beaches.

Using the time we had before our train, we walked around Saint Lo. The weather that day matched pretty much exactly what the weather was in ’44 and for me it felt kind of cool to see that the weather had stayed so constant over the years. The morning was cold and foggy, just like back then. For most our time in Saint Lo, we walked around with umbrellas. While walking around town, there was literally no one on the street except us. I guess everyone goes to church on Sundays and then goes home in Normandy.

Even though our plans didn’t work out, we did see a few cool things in Normandy like many of the war memorials and war damage that the city chose to leave behind and not repair. A good example is of the Notre-Dame here that kept some of the damage like the missing church tower to show others of the damage that the church suffered. Apparently over 90% of homes in Saint Lo were destroyed during the war.

If our plans had worked out, we would have been able to visit Carentan, and see the live paradrop in the nearby town of Sainte-Mère-Église. Then afterward, we planned to make our way to Omaha Beach, Pointe du Hoc to be exact. If our plans in Normandy had worked out, we would have even gone to Brussels afterward. Instead, I never got the chance to see any of the beaches and came home a day early. If I ever come back here, I’ll be sure to take a car.

Photos:

• Caen
• Bayeux
• Saint Lo