Back In The Dam

So by now, my tour map is beginning to look a bit like the web of a severely-stoned spider. This is more than appropriate, as my legs have taken me back to Amsterdam, and some new friends have helped me find a state that's roughly akin to square-dancing with eight legs. Let me try and explain how I got here, hopefully in a way that sounds adventurous, daring, and many other fine qualities that don't sound like 'lost'.

The main reason I'm here...well, no.
The two reasons I'm here are...

Nope, there are three...main...reasons that I'm here, the first being arrangements with Fran to meet up next weekend in Bruges, which Pete tells me is one of the best spots in Europe, Ireland excepted. This requires me to change my plans around a bit, so that I hang around in Western Europe for another week longer. I'm very cool with that if it means I can catch the Franster, and also it ties in rather well with reason number two.
I have a confession to make, people. One thing I've realised that I can't live without in this life, is books. I am bibliophile, beyond help. This ties in nicely though, since in all the places I've been so far, I've yet to find a bookstore that caters to my tastes in English books quite as well as Amsterdam does. So I hereby declare myself the first person in history to come to Amsterdam so that he can freely and legally satisfy an addiction to words.

Oh, anyone who needs telling about the third reason to come back to Amsterdam should probably book a holiday here themselves.

Oh, yep. There is another reason - I found a hostel that had space over the Easter weekend, so I leapt on it.

And so it is that I'm back in the Dam, and since Paris has severely blown my budget, the gags in this entry will be cheaper than usual. Still, Amsterdam is a good place to be, regardless of how much money you have. I mean, it must be, because even the tramps here walk along the streets muttering, "Ecstasy, ecstasy!"

And it's worth re-visiting a place, because there's always something new to catch you off-guard in this world. For example, I was flicking through a book yesterday, which concerned some aspect of Judaism, and I noticed that just below the copyright notice was a small banner with the words,

"This book contains Holy names. Do not take it into the bathroom, or other unclean places."

This threw me just a little, so I thought I'd throw it at you too...

Another thing that threw me, and again, it's not so much funny as odd, was a sign I saw by the flower market. Specifically it was the last word that threw me:

"PPP - The Pink Point of Presence - Your source for Gay and Lesbian information and souvenirs"

If anyone out there knows what such a souvenir might be, please let me know. I always thought souvenirs were there to remind you of your holiday. Maybe they are; maybe people come to Amsterdam to be gay or lesbian just for the week? If so, I'd like to be a lesbian 'til Tuesday, please...

Though in some areas I might still be considered to have a gender bias. In an attempt to be daring and adventurous, I didn't go straight back to Bob's Youth Hostel when I got here, but instead tried the woman's touch, at Anna's Youth Hostel for one night. Lovely though the place was, Anna and I had one minor disagreement about linguistics - I always thought that the root of 'hostel' lay somewhere in 'hospitality', whereas Anna felt convinced that 'hostel' was a corruption of 'hostility'. Oh well, at least we didn't have a run in, though I wouldn't have liked to become one of the guests that did...

So through the streets I, well, if not ran, then at least sauntered. And as I was singing along to the tunes in my head, I came up with a parting thought for you to mull, in the wake of Paris...

Disclaimer:
The author is in no way implying equality in the value of the opinions of Jesus and Paul Simon.

Though it may in some way be an obtuse jab at Art Garfunkle.