In the Garden of We-Eden!
The first thing everybody told me when I said I would be off to The Netherlands was “when you get to Holland, please spend time in the coffee shops just to get the experience!”
For almost all people in the high adrenaline world of youth culture, Amsterdam and The Netherlands in general is known for its controversially lax and laissez faire approach to what they would term ‘soft drugs’ which include marijuana and hash amongst other such drugs.
Therefore, here, it is illegal to have marijuana, but it is not an offence for which you can prosecuted (however confusing that may seem!)
So I duly followed my adventurous spirit last Wednesday, carrying the curiosity of several people back home to explore the vices of the Dutch capital, Amsterdam and the result was an experience worthy to be etched in rock by the masons, but one maybe best not repeated.
Basically in Amsterdam, the places called coffee shops are actually little havens for weed (marijuana) smokers and are pretty well frequented, if not mostly by the foreigners.
While you may ironically find that the coffee shop has run out of coffee, it never runs out of weed and other goodies that accompany the illicit drug- at least in my eyes alone!
The first coffee shop was a dingy though life filled posh joint with a great Rastafarian influence. With my Nigerian woman Funke and Kenyan woman Claire in tow, I went into the coffee shop called Barney’s Coffee shop.
Bing a clean shaven African man with rather dashing looks, attracted suspicion and was tossed out, albeit politely, as I carried no particulars to prove that I am actually a fossil and no boy! The first time my sweet looks turned against me!
The next spot was the Bush Docteur where the chap there seemed not to give a camel’s behind how old I was and just stuck to the business of selling his weed.
As I had asked for his best product, he recommended a ‘joint’ called Amnesia and I got that for (six Euros). I retrospect, I should have read much into the name and not taken it but that is always the power of retrospect, it teaches you well but introspect tends to ignore the obvious signs!
As I was hungry I asked for something to eat and all they had were seven Euro space cakes. In this case a chocolate laden creamy fluffy bun, which was delicious…but also happened to contain quite a lot of weed in it!
There was also an option of smoking upstairs in one of two smoking rooms, or outside along the street where people could look at you and probably envy you.
I went upstairs where there was a dingy flight of stairs and all sorts of colourful drawings that made me feel Ãrie’ already.
After a struggle, I was through with both cake and joint and ready to paint the town red.
The next thing was to have a picture taken beneath the open skirt of a giant statue of the legendary Rembrandt and a lovely scrumptious burger at L-opera, a lovely restaurant, which also had a very pretty waitress serving us. Now I am not too sure if it was that she indeed was pretty or it was the effect of this smoke that my anatomy was not too familiar with. Whatever it was, it made the woman look very pretty.
Soon, I was getting the munchies again and had to have another giant meal from KFC, and another, and another. Something was definitely wrong!
By the time I got to the Red Light District, I could safely see double.
Now the red light district makes you think twice as you see these semi-naked women in little glass cubicles, dancing their life away in seductive style.
This world is truly unfair, the sin is being committed in Europe and the punishment is being meted out on Africa!
All you have to do is a little window shopping, identify the ‘sex worker’ of your choice, knock on her door and she will open and charge you 50 Euros for heaven knows what happens behind the scenes!
So there I was walking with friends and one Pakistani friend, who happens to be Muslim, walks up to one of the cubicles and asks for the going rate.
The woman tells him that the price is 50 Euros and that is too steep for him.
Politely he leaves after saying; “Fifty Euros! Thank you, god bless you miss!”
Indeed in the land of decadence, all can be sought and found easily and that made my blood rush to my head. It was a decadent Eden of sorts!
By the time I was supposed to have another beer, I could not feel any part of my body and my eyes were heavy.
I could not talk to anybody and was hearing rather curious voices talking to me. My feet were moving in slow motion, at least so I thought, but my friends were saying I was looking rather normal. My heartbeat started acing. Was I about to die?
By the time I just managed to get to my Hotel room in Bussum, my soul and body were totally divorced. I could feel it but no one else could see it.
Drugs may be legal in Amsterdam, but if anything, I got firsthand evidence that the last thing anybody should try are drugs!
So when you come on over here to Amsterdam, I have played the role of guinea pig so that you don’t have to try this.
By all means come to Amsterdam and adhere to my rules. Look, but don’t touch, touch but don’t taste, taste but don’t swallow!
For almost all people in the high adrenaline world of youth culture, Amsterdam and The Netherlands in general is known for its controversially lax and laissez faire approach to what they would term ‘soft drugs’ which include marijuana and hash amongst other such drugs.
Therefore, here, it is illegal to have marijuana, but it is not an offence for which you can prosecuted (however confusing that may seem!)
So I duly followed my adventurous spirit last Wednesday, carrying the curiosity of several people back home to explore the vices of the Dutch capital, Amsterdam and the result was an experience worthy to be etched in rock by the masons, but one maybe best not repeated.
Basically in Amsterdam, the places called coffee shops are actually little havens for weed (marijuana) smokers and are pretty well frequented, if not mostly by the foreigners.
While you may ironically find that the coffee shop has run out of coffee, it never runs out of weed and other goodies that accompany the illicit drug- at least in my eyes alone!
The first coffee shop was a dingy though life filled posh joint with a great Rastafarian influence. With my Nigerian woman Funke and Kenyan woman Claire in tow, I went into the coffee shop called Barney’s Coffee shop.
Bing a clean shaven African man with rather dashing looks, attracted suspicion and was tossed out, albeit politely, as I carried no particulars to prove that I am actually a fossil and no boy! The first time my sweet looks turned against me!
The next spot was the Bush Docteur where the chap there seemed not to give a camel’s behind how old I was and just stuck to the business of selling his weed.
As I had asked for his best product, he recommended a ‘joint’ called Amnesia and I got that for (six Euros). I retrospect, I should have read much into the name and not taken it but that is always the power of retrospect, it teaches you well but introspect tends to ignore the obvious signs!
As I was hungry I asked for something to eat and all they had were seven Euro space cakes. In this case a chocolate laden creamy fluffy bun, which was delicious…but also happened to contain quite a lot of weed in it!
There was also an option of smoking upstairs in one of two smoking rooms, or outside along the street where people could look at you and probably envy you.
I went upstairs where there was a dingy flight of stairs and all sorts of colourful drawings that made me feel Ãrie’ already.
After a struggle, I was through with both cake and joint and ready to paint the town red.
The next thing was to have a picture taken beneath the open skirt of a giant statue of the legendary Rembrandt and a lovely scrumptious burger at L-opera, a lovely restaurant, which also had a very pretty waitress serving us. Now I am not too sure if it was that she indeed was pretty or it was the effect of this smoke that my anatomy was not too familiar with. Whatever it was, it made the woman look very pretty.
Soon, I was getting the munchies again and had to have another giant meal from KFC, and another, and another. Something was definitely wrong!
By the time I got to the Red Light District, I could safely see double.
Now the red light district makes you think twice as you see these semi-naked women in little glass cubicles, dancing their life away in seductive style.
This world is truly unfair, the sin is being committed in Europe and the punishment is being meted out on Africa!
All you have to do is a little window shopping, identify the ‘sex worker’ of your choice, knock on her door and she will open and charge you 50 Euros for heaven knows what happens behind the scenes!
So there I was walking with friends and one Pakistani friend, who happens to be Muslim, walks up to one of the cubicles and asks for the going rate.
The woman tells him that the price is 50 Euros and that is too steep for him.
Politely he leaves after saying; “Fifty Euros! Thank you, god bless you miss!”
Indeed in the land of decadence, all can be sought and found easily and that made my blood rush to my head. It was a decadent Eden of sorts!
By the time I was supposed to have another beer, I could not feel any part of my body and my eyes were heavy.
I could not talk to anybody and was hearing rather curious voices talking to me. My feet were moving in slow motion, at least so I thought, but my friends were saying I was looking rather normal. My heartbeat started acing. Was I about to die?
By the time I just managed to get to my Hotel room in Bussum, my soul and body were totally divorced. I could feel it but no one else could see it.
Drugs may be legal in Amsterdam, but if anything, I got firsthand evidence that the last thing anybody should try are drugs!
So when you come on over here to Amsterdam, I have played the role of guinea pig so that you don’t have to try this.
By all means come to Amsterdam and adhere to my rules. Look, but don’t touch, touch but don’t taste, taste but don’t swallow!
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