DEFCON 2

After a deceiving Paris, it was the turn for two of the big fishes of the trip: Amsterdam and Berlin. Before that, we stopped in Brussels for a quick meeting with David, my friend from Dublin who is there working for the EU Commission. Lucky bastard.

The meeting itself was revitalizing. To see again old friends –although it was only two weeks since we said goodbye in Dublin, sometimes we haven’t seen each other for longer- is always good. A couple of photos with him and the Atomium behind, a couple of rounds through the old city of Brussels –nice surprise- and some shopping (chocolate and a thimble for my mum; she collects them) and we were again in a train.

Amsterdam. She catched us from the start even though it was quite bad. Before arriving there I had heard only nice words to describe it. Specially two friends who where living there –one of them Franzi, one of my best mates- prepared myself for a hell of an impression. We expected to arrive with a bang.

It was however more of a bluff. Blame on us. We screwed it. The hostel form Cherbourg was awesome compared with this one. David, who booked it, got a caravan camping OUTSIDE of Amsterdam. Very outside. Like too much to go walking. And trains and metros stopped working after 1am, so we were stuck to use the last train to the station of Hollendretch and from there, wait for a shuttle to bring us to the camping. Impossible doing it worse.

Hollendretch has become, together with Alençon (the French town we were finding once again and again when we got lost in the way to Le Mans), the symbol of defeat for us. We hate them.

Because of the problems to get back to the hostel we couldn’t go out the first night and neither the second one. And even though that, we fell in love with the city. I mean, Amsterdam, not Hollendretch.

But next time I go back there I need to go back without a girlfriend and with mates –real mates who know how to party. Seeing all those women in the shops of the Red District and knowing it would be two months until I could sleep again with my girl was killing me because of the pressure in my pants. Either I come back single or for my bachelor party.

With the sensation of having wasted somehow Amsterdam, we boarded the train to Berlin. The German capital has been always kind to me. It’s only I never remember the first night there.

This time was somehow different. The postcards came at the usual pace –fast. Walking around the city at a very fast pace we saw all the important places in a day. Including the Holocaust museum (one of my favorite places in Berlin). But when it came to go out at night, it changed. We couldn’t find good places –well, actually we did, but not places with electronic music that David liked.

At least the hostel was great.

And with the party mood we were in the way to Central Europe.

Here we are. Mad in an Internet café in Paris looking for accommodation for our next stop. So far everything is going smoothly -but France. First couple of days in London were awesome. We stayed with a Hungarian girl from Couchsurfing. She was living in a flat with seven more girls but we didn’t really have a chance to be there a lot. What a pity.

Walking; lots of walking has been the norm since the beginning instead. We visited London’s main touristic spots in just a day. The postcards. And unlike other times, I didn’t make any grand entrée -once I broke my elbow and dislocated my knee; other time I ended up missing the friend I was visiting. After London, Portsmouth and Normandie’s landing followed.

Specially Normandie was exciting. We rented a car and went around the historical landing sites. A couple of photos with veterans from WWII show that heroes are too big guys in small sizes. Then followed the racing through Le Mans… at night and with our tank almost empty! We weren’t sure if we’ll have enough gas until we gave back the car, and still don’t know how we managed to do it. That little piece of rubbish behaved well over our spectations.

However, since landing in Normandie we realized that France is our enemy -together with non-drying underwear. Just after landing in Cherbourgh we got caught by the enemy; a police car intercepted us when trying to find our way out of the ferry port. We dodged them easily but Cherbourgh still had more for us: a 2 hour walk with our packs (around 12kg.) up a ramp to get to our hostel… just to find it closed at arrival. We sorted it out in the end -and we almost had a hostel for ourselves- but at the beginning it was frustrating.

Paris cheered up a bit that grey look at France. The Eiffel tower is deceiving from the distance, impressive from below and breathtaking from above. The gardens of the Tulliers and others are too uplifting; but I assume they would be much better in a sunny day. And finally, the Louvre museum, for a non artistic person like me, was even good. Not Mona Lisa -such a tiny picture. All that, spiced up with the fact of not having to pay for the ticket, for being journalist.

So; no great entrance in Britain this time, but in France instead. Now, Amsterdam awaits!