August 4, 2010
My goal for this day was to plan a train ride across Russia on the transsiberian railway. Specifically, I wanted to get the ball rolling on a Russian and Chinese visa, maybe find a travel agency to organize things for me, and maybe even purchase an airline flight home from the endpoint of the railroad. After several hours of working on this, I discovered that this trip would not be possible, and was thus freed to participate in other touristic activities, but have even less of a long term plan for the trip.
I woke up to the sound of heavy rain. Great.
Very unremarkable "included" breakfast of uninspired croissant, mediocre coffee in the breakfast area amongst unremarkable fellow travelers. I haven't owned an umbrella since mine was stolen in 2001 or so, and had forgotten about rain in Europe, so got poured on pretty hard on my walk from Hotel Nadia to the internet cafe near the train station that I used. I sat there, dry for hours, updating the blog, trying to find information about visas, including a location in Zeemarkt where supposedly I'd be able to get one.
I took a bus (of course, it took me a while to find the right bus) to around that location, read a disturbing article about the comedian Gallagher on the way on my blackberry (who knew!) Of course, I got off at the wrong stop, and walked for about half an hour until I found the address I had found on the website for the visa place. Except, the address was for something completely different (some sort of repairman). Confused, I called the company and asked about visas and was told by someone with a Russian accent that the embassy requires that visas for U.S. citizens to Russia must be obtained BEFORE leaving the United States. I tried calling a few other consulate offices to try to confirm this, but couldn't get in touch with them. All the same, this bad news was confirmed by some stuff I found online later.
Last night, I was talking to a girl I met at the hostel about traveling and she commented that she doesn't like to use travel guides, just wanders around the city and discovers things. "That doesn't work for me, I explained. Whenever I 'wander around the city', I end up either on a highway, in the harbor, or in a boring suburb, or in some industrial area. I never find anything good." She seemed to find this funny, but it's true. On my way back from the useless visa adventure, I tried walking to the spot where I'd be getting lunch, but just ended up getting lost and walking on a highway. Dangerous and not scenic.
I had lunch at Cafe Amsterdam, a spot recommended to me by one of the Dutch guys I met on Laugavegurinn, who claimed to work there. I believed that it would be a pleasant change of pace to go somewhere not in the Lonely Planet, the Dutch guy said it was really good and a good place to rest, and the picture on the website was attractive. This was a good decision. I sat at the bar, and was served by a pleasant server. I ordered some herring and a shot of super cold aquavit (recommended as a side by the menu) as an appetizer, and had a quite good excellent and fries with a beer for lunch. It felt great to sit, to stop worrying about trying to get to Russia. I wrote some post cards (hadn't written any in weeks). I recommend the place.
Tram back to the hotel and took a nap for about an hour. Woke up in a sweat and realized that I had left one of my books at the restaurant. So spent an hour getting back there and picking up the book. Tram back to city center looking for a place to eat dinner. Of course, couldn't find anything. Even tried to find a spot in the Lonely Planet, and was unsuccessful.
I gave up on finding something serious to eat, and stopped at the In De Wildeman pub, recommended by the Lonely Planet, and stuck in the middle of a terribly crowded tourist area. Ended up being also an excellent selection. Great beer choices, friendly staff, spoke briefly to two guys from Arhus, Denmark who were attempting to each try 20 different beers over their 4 day trip to Amsterdam. I think they were up to 16. The bar closed relatively early (1?), I walked back home, put some music on my portable speaker, ate some Icelandic licorice.
Jacques Brel -- Amsterdam
No comments:
Post a Comment