The 'Dam: that which make me smile from ear to ear

German rail engineering took me from Frankfurt to Amsterdam in just under 4 hours on Friday after work. A couple of stops along the way in Cologne, Dusseldorf and Utrecht. Some people got on the train in Dusseldorf and I had seen something I hadn't seen for ages. They were laughing and had smiles on their face. It didn't take long to realise that they were Dutch and were heading to Utrecht for some mischef for the weekend. I was a cool train ride. I met a couple of kiwi girls on the train - I could pick the accent a mile away... the first step once you hear an accent is to decide if it's American or not - that was easy. Then you listen for the Aussie drawl, since it's invariably an Aussie if it's not English or a Yankee. Surprisingly I heard the unmistakable Cloey of Wainui accent, so I started muttering sentences to them in German. "Sawree, I dun't speak German" one of the girls replied. I had had my fun, and started the usual "where are you from banter". Being a kiwi girl, she was the first to mention that we should go to the beer part of the train for some refreshments. Ace!

I had also met a couple of gals who were teachers at an international school in the Bad Homberg area. They had informed me that it's a veritable fountain of single women teachers and that unfortunately I would have to oblige them with my email address and phone number. I begrunginly divulged them with my prized cellphone number. I bid them farewell at the end of the journey, but it wasn't the last I was to see of them.

I met Emile at the station with a casual "Hey Cunt" greeting. Immediately I remembered why I loved Amsterdam so much (one of the reasons anyway) - there are loads of beautiful girls in Centraal Station. I had never been in love so many times that night :) We did the boost back to his apt and dumped our stuff and went out to a lokal. Beautiful malted Weizen Hoegaarden beer was to flow forth at a local bar. I liked it so much, we got three. In Germany, the beer you get at the lokal is the local Pilsner. There aren't any imported beers, at least not from Pflas (tap), so I had to make up for lost time.

Saturday was a good day of retail therapy and bargain hunting. The 'Dam has great shopping, so I got some bits and piceces. I'm still undecided about getting a shiny Boss jacket. My indecision was and still is tragic - I guess it's from living in Germany for a while. These guys can't make a decision to save themselves. Emile was just as undecided as me, so we were like two old grannies. He'll insist that he knows what shoes he wants (just can't find them), but that's probably a cover up ;) I figured there's gotta be something good to come out of it, so I'll just wait till I get pheumonia then I know I really need to buy one.

Saturday night was spend in Utrecht, at a concert. The artist was Apparat from the label Shitkatapult - heaps of ace beats. Utrecht was not to dissapoint and we enjoyed finding a local student bar serving cheap beer to cheap attactive students (like us... we were to convince ourselves). The trein wasn't going back to Amsterdam at 3am, so we caught the bus back - nice tickey tour around the boonies.

On Sunday morning we were both hankering out for a proper breakfast (one with lots of grease, instead of crusty rolls). The Irish down the road had a phat all day breakfast for 9 euro. It was worth every eruocent - lots of lard was sticking to the stomach all day - a beautiful feeling.

I got a pack of medium frites as a lasting reminder before I got on the train back to Frankfurt. Sitting next to me was a German next to me with an unpleasant demeanour and a nasty scowl - I'm back home already. Just don't mention ze war, I kept telling myself.