Amsterdam, you so crazy.

Amsterdam (obviously)

The Contiki tour was meant to depart at 7:30, with a 6:45 check in, so I had to be up incredibly early. So early, in fact, that I was unable to get any breakfast, since nowhere was open. I boarded the coach with a very sad stomach. Thankfully I’d already started talking with a few fellow passengers before boarding, and thankfully not everyone was interested in partying hard and ignoring the quieter, nerdier types. I was also surprised to discover our tour guide, Kat, had an Australian accent.

After a short drive out of London, we passed the white cliffs of Dover before boarding the ferry from Dover to Calais, France. Here, we were finally able to grab some food and coffee. Calais was quite pretty to arrive in, with nice clear water and sunny skies, so it was unfortunate that we had to climb back onto the coach straight away for the next long drive of the tour.

Highways, like airports, seem to be the same all over the world. Apart from driving on the incorrect side of the road, and signs in a variety of languages, the roads on which we drove looked remarkably similar to those you’d find in Australia. We headed through Belgium, where I was surprised (and a little disappointed) to discover that my experience of Belgium would be entirely viewed from the windows of the coach. And consisting of highways.

We crossed the border into the Netherlands, and our first stop was at a service station – with a McDonalds, of course. Menus were in English as well as Dutch (…Dutch? Flemmish? Not sure. Something foreign, I’m going with Dutch for now), but it took me a while to find the McChicken, as it was listed under ‘Sandwiches’. Seems they don’t have ‘burgers’ in the Netherlands. However, even all the way across the world, a McChicken is still called a McChicken, and still tasted exactly like a McChicken, and even cost a familiar €3.45.

Our tour guide started spruiking the optional activities available for us in Amsterdam. Now, most people know that Amsterdam is notorious for being…well, Amsterdam…but I was still very taken aback when Kat announced the excursions. There was a canal cruise, which I’d already known about, and there was also Casa Rosso: a sex show. Where people have sex. On stage. And other things.

I declined that particular optional excursion.

The canal cruise was nice. (I took about a million near-identical photographs of canals, bridges, and cute Dutch townhouses.) Following that, the group split up, and I went with a few others to The Grasshopper, a combination bar and coffee shop (and by “coffee shop” I mean “place where you can legally buy weed”. Confusing I know.) I also declined any kind of marijuana consumption…but I have to admit, I did consider it for a while. (This will probably shock people who already know me, including my mother. Sorry Mum.)

We then had to catch a tram back to our hotel. Trams are weird: you hop onto the middle carriage of the tram, buy a ticket, which you then scan, wait while the tram winds its way through Amsterdam with stop announcements in Dutch, and then scan your ticket again to get through exit doors to get out of the tram. We were all incredibly relieved when we managed to get out at the correct stop for our hotel.