Discovering the Most Insane City in Europe....On New Years Eve

As daytime faded away, more people came out, and the bangs of firecrackers were even more frequent. We started wandering towered the tram station to get a tram to the Museumplaan, where the city count-down was supposed to take place.

We struck up a conversation with a group of British guys and one Dutch guy (people are very friendly there and tend to just come up and randomly tart talking to you), who lived in Amsterdam and told us about how this was the only day of the year the city allowed anyone to buy and put off fireworks, firecrackers and any other thing of that kind, so people just go crazy with them. We were waiting for a tram while he was telling us this, and were we getting annoyed that it wasn’t coming. Then he told us that he thinks the trams end early on NYE because otherwise people will throw firecrackers in front of them or even on them! Nabila and I were quite annoyed at this point, especially at these people, mostly young men, who were setting off these firecrackers everywhere. Then, at perfect timing, a young man came up to us and asked, “Do you know where we can buy these firecracker things?” Nabila and I stared at him for a few seconds and then I asked, “No, why?” He gave me a weird look and then said, “because I want to set them off…” I gave him a dirty gaze and then replied, “No, I don’t know.  And I want to punch everyone who has them so if you want to get punched then go ahead and get them.” He laughed and said “Okay thanks” and walked away.

We not only almost died from getting blown up by fireworks, but also by getting run over by bikes multiple times. You would not believe how many bicycles are in Amsterdam. And of course us being silly Americans not used to sharing roads with bikers, we would walk in the bike lane (which had no sign saying it was for bikes) and bikers would barley scrap by us at high speed. When we were waiting on the side of the road to cross the street, a biker almost squashed us flat. And they are very serious about having their right of way as bikers. Even if they don’t have a bell, they will make a loud “brrringgggg brrrrinnnggg” noise with their mouth.

Despite the rain, the city still put on a great show for the countdown to midnight, something Amsterdam is famous for. The show is broadcast on all the major Dutch TV channels. This year, however, the countdown didn’t take place in the Museumplaan (Museum square) like usual, but by the harbor next to a big ship in front of the well-know Amsterdam ship museum. Nabila and I made our way through the throngs of yelling, singing people, down to the water. The giant wall of the museum was lit up with a projection of ”WELKOM” and the time until the countdown. Loud dance music was blasting and all the old ships lined up on the docks where lit with bright colored lights, and there was a giant red sign with IAMSTERDAM, the city’s slogan, on it in big block letters. Despite the depressing, cold rain, people danced around holding their umbrellas, making a conga line and signing. The Dutch really do know how to make a party out of anything:) Nabila and I took in the scene, and noticed some men in wetsuits with jet skis getting equipment together. I couldn’t tell what they were really doing, but I had a feeling they would be part of the big show.

Smiling through the down-pour, even with a half broken umbrella...

The 3 X's are the symbol of Amsterdam.

We were soaking wet!

The countdown finally came and the announcer started yelling in Dutch about how proud he was of the city of Amsterdam because of all the things it accomplished that year, including the opening of new museums and restorations of buildings (I only know what he was talking about because he did an English translation after the slew of Dutch gibberish). Dutch is such a funny language to listen to. It sounds like German but not so harsh and more like a baby talking or something. Anyway, Nabila and I jumped up and down, our soaking wet hair flying everywhere as we counted down from 10 and then gave each other a big hug. Immediacy, giant fireworks of every color blew up into the sky above the giant ship, the ship museum gleamed, lit by a million lights, and then the jet skiers came into play. They drove around in circles and then suddenly two men in wet suits and LED lights connected to their bodies shot up into the air by water jet packs, and flew around. Then they dove in and out of the water like dolphins, moving to the time of the music blasting from the speakers. It was really amazing.

Here is the official video they made of the countdown there, which is definitely better than any of the ones I made: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JCx06G5ENU8

The countdown projected on the museum and the ship next to it.

Fireworks!

Empty champagne bottles, a typical find on the streets after midnight.

As we left with the big crowed back up to the streets, we took a look around us in the sky, and realized that the city was literally on fire.

 There were fireworks going off in every direction we turned. We walked down the street, past people sitting on the stone walls with giant bottles of champagne in hand, people setting off more firecrackers, waiting just until people stepped a foot out of their way before they threw one on the ground. We saw someone throw a firework in front of a car and we passed strange men with tents (were they planning to camp in this “war-zone”? We weren’t sure…). Broken champagne bottles could be found lying in the street everywhere you turned. Nabila and I didn’t really know where we were heading at this point. We didn’t have a plan and were simply following the throngs of yelling, crazy people who all seemed to be walking in the same direction. At this point, the rain had stopped and this was a relief for us since our umbrella we bought at the tourist shop for 5 euros had broke a while ago. It seemed like we weren’t the only ones with that issue, as we walked we saw dead umbrellas squashed in the street, ones of all different patterns from standard-issue black to one with drawing of the marijuana plant on it.

This one has pictures of Dutch cheese on it.

Someone got a little too wild...

We were of course bothered by a number of drunk men, which is when our dead umbrella came in handy as a poker weapon. As soon as we saw a man coming up to us, we would poke him with the umbrella and I think it was pretty easy for him to get our messege…

We of course couldn’t go to Holland on NYE without eating the traditional NYE Olibollen and Appelflappen. These are the two fried donut like things that Dutch people eat every New Years. You could find them at every bakery in the city, the Oliballen in giant piles in the windows. Oliballen are basically giant fried dough balls with raisins, orange zest and other spices inside. They are normally eaten with powdered sugar. Appelflappen are basically apple fritters, so apple pieces in a sweet syrup inside a pocket of dough. Both are really, really yummy:)

Lots and lots of Olibollen!

Olibollen and Appelflappen (the flat ones are Appelflappen)

The rest of the night was simply us walking around and taking in the crazy scene. We went from bar to club, many of which were free entrance and danced and met people. Here are some pictures of the city at night:

Stature in Dam Square

It was amazing how many different people from all over the world we met that night, just simply on the streets! We ran into people from other towns in Holland, for example a strange couple (a tall, skinny young man and a chunky women) from Rotterdam who, when we asked them what their plans were for the night, told us they only came to Amsterdam to go to McDonalds, and they had accomplished that and now had no plans. I found this extremely bizarre considering there is a McDonald’s in every tiny town, city and suburb in Europe, and these people came to the insanely crazy city of Amsterdam in New Year’s Eve to go to MCDONALDS???? 

We also met some typical Canadian guys, complete with checkered farmer shirts drinking cheap beer out on the streets at 3am who told me I should get used to the rain if I will be spending 4 years in Vancouver...great:P  

We shared a taxi with a young couple from Brazil, who told us they came to Europe for their Christmas vacation but were now wishing to be back in warm, sunny Brazil where you could celebrate new year’s on the beach (they were telling us this as we were standing shivering in the freezing rain while waiting on the side of the road for a taxi, just after almost coming in contact once again with a speeding biker). 

 We met some German guys at a very crowded bar, who seemed to have a little too much to drink and were dancing like they were being electrocuted, which really wasn’t the best place to do this since you could barely even walk, there were so many people stuffed on the tiny dance floor. Nabila and I pushed our way through and stood on chairs in order to get free from the crowed. Other girls began staring at us since it looked like we had just come out of a shower with all our clothes on. Our hair was still soaking wet and our sweaters moist. Oh well, we still were ready to have fun! The guys found us quite amusing and took pictures with us, yelling at each other in German. We then followed them out of the bar and introduced ourselves. They found it cool that we were from New York (as did everyone we met so far, like people from New York are celebrities or something, even though we are probably from one of the most boring, uninteresting areas in the state) they invited us to go to another one with them. As we walked there, I overheard them talking about some of the girls they met in the bar. I decided it was kind of fun to listen to them without them knowing I understood every word that they were saying, so I decided not to reveal to them that I spoke German. And how would they ever suspect it? All they knew was that Nabila and I were from New York, and I lived in French speaking Brussels. After partying with them for a bit longer, we went back outside and one of the guys asked us, “What do you guys think of the sound of German?” And then I decided to reveal myself, “Well…I speak German.” “WHAT?!” he yelled. “Yes…” , I replied with a smile. Then his friend said, “Wait, I’ll check.”, and asked me in German where he parked his car. I replied in German saying “how am I supposed to know?” and then I said in English “I don’t know where you parked your car.” All the guys laughed like they couldn’t believe it...like they were thinking, “an American girl speaking German?! How could it be?!” Then one of the guys realized, “Shit, so you’ve heard everything we’ve said to each other!” “Yes,” I said with a smile. They were pretty annoyed with me after that, and I was pretty satisfied with myself:)

At this point, it was around 5am and all we wanted to do was find a warm place to dry off since we were still soaking wet from standing out in the rain. We were standing outside in the middle of a still quite active square with bars surrounding it and the strong smell of weed in the air and young drunk men setting off orange smoke bombs. We had left the German guys, who were starting to annoy us and had finally declared they would go to the red light district and smoke a joint (ew). By the way, Nabila and I also visited the red light district that day, which is pretty hard not to end up visiting while in Amsterdam, considering it pretty much makes up half of the city center, no joke.  It is really HUGE. You just keep walking down the main street and pass ally upon ally of prostitution houses, their large windows lit with a soft red light and slutty dressed girls pretending to look bored standing in the middle of the body-length window, wearing only a thong and see-through lingerie top. Nabila and I walked down one ally, trying not to stare but our curiosity taking the better of us. The girls in the windows were lying on their bed, pretending to look at their cell phone, doing their makeup at a little table, or just standing there with a pout face on. Drunk men would go up to the windows and make rude gestures to the girls, who would simply just encourage them. Nabila and I were starting to get a little freaked out and simply depressed by the whole thing, so we continued following the alleyway to get out of the area, but it kept going and going! Finally, we found ourselves at the end, the street leading us back in a large square, but we were just as lost as we were the whole day in the confusing city of tiny streets and canals.

A prostitution house on the canal.

By the end of the night, we were simply trying to find our way to the metro station. Some man noticed we looked lost and asked if we needed help (he asked us first in Dutch, but I could get the gist of what he was asking since Dutch sounds very similar to German. It really surprised me that I could understand so much of the Dutch I heard and saw there, especially on signs and such). When we told him we didn’t speak Dutch, he asked us where we were from and at this point Nabila and I decided to tell people that we were from London, not New York, because it seemed that whenever we told guys we were from New York, they wouldn’t stop bothering us. Like I said, we are like celebrities in Europe. But if we said we were British, it was much less interesting. We told him we were looking for the metro and he pointed out the way and simply left us, which was a relief and a sign that our new trick worked.

While walking towered the direction the man pointed out, but still miserably lost, we noticed two beautiful, young (maybe early-twenties), blonde Dutch boys wearing only fancy sweaters come riding down the street on bikes. Nabila and I couldn’t believe our eyes. These guys looked they had a bubble protecting them from the cold and rain or something. They literally looked perfect. Not wet, not cold, not sweaty from dancing or riding a bike. Just perfect. They stopped and asked if we needed help. We told them we were looking for the metro. And the taller, cuter one replied, “Well you better just stop looking now because the metro doesn’t even start again until 8 am” Nabila and I looked at each other…crap, our bus was leaving at 7:30. How would we get back to the train station? He told us we would have to take a taxi. He then asked, “You guys are American?” “Yes”, we replied (Damn, we thought, these guys were just so perfect and smart, we couldn’t even trick them into thinking we were British) “From which state?”, “New York” He smiled like he had a trick up his sleeve and asked, “What do you think about the fiscal cliff?” Jesus Christ, I thought to myself, was this some kind of political interview now? It was fricken 6 in the morning, freezing cold drizzle coming down on us, we were shivering our butts off with our wet hair dripping in our faces our backs hurting and firecrackers going off in an earsplitting boom behind us and the only thing we wanted was a warm place to sit, and this guy was asking about our political views?? I didn’t care how cute this guy was, I was cold and annoyed by the non-stop drizzling rain, and so I replied with an annoyed tone, “You know what? I couldn’t really give a damn about the fiscal cliff right now.” He laughed and said, “Well, if you guys are interested, there is an after-party starting at Club Nasty at 9…” We gave him a look like, “Does it really look like we are in the party mood right now?” and then declined politely and walked away to hail a taxi.

While walking down the street, suddenly something occurred to me...the bus tickets! They must be soaking wet by now. I dug into my backpack and took out a sopping mass of paper…so much for our return home on the bus. We needed to reprint them somehow. We passed a hotel, whose doors were locked, but the man inside took pity on us and let us in to use the printer, after I gave him my puppy dog face and explained the situation. When we left the hotel, a young, gay-looking man passed us and said something in Dutch that, if I understood him correctly, sounded like “girl, you look like hell.” Oh, why thank you:P

Well, we finally got a taxi and headed to the train station. Let’s just say, that was definitely an adventure…simply an unforgettable night. I may have made it sound kind of like a disaster, but in reality, we had a lot of fun. Simply taking in a unique city and what it has to offer on this special night was eye-opening for us. I can even say I’d do it all over again if I ever got the chance:)