Door de ogen van een Amsterdammer (“Through the eyes of an Amsterdamer”): Day 1

After a mad dash to Pearson, a healthy dose of Travacalm, and a whole lot of vino, Seba and I were on our Red Eye way to Europa, much more comfortably than Rachel McAdams circa 2005. We arrived at Schiphol Airport bright and early last Thursday morn, ready to get our “Original Cool” on.

Martha met us at Amsterdam Central Station, and walked us back to her fab apartment in the Haarlemmerdijk area. Located on the outskirts of the Jordaan district, and with indie boutiques and specialty stores, trendy restaurants and bars, and the oldest cinema in Amsterdam, this is the city's West Queen West. After dropping off our bags and checking out Martha’s digs (which face onto a canal, obviously), we headed in to her favourite local haunt: Two for Joy Coffee Roasters. The three of us caught up over warm bevvies (cappuccinos for the Euros and a latte for me, which was, naturally, out-of-this-world).

While Martha ran a couple of errands, I got my bearings and ended up giving Seba a free, one-on-one walking tour of Amsterdam, based on my memories of the city from 2008 and 2010. We explored the Jordaan, the Dam, and the Red Light District, and I provided factoids when I could: “Anne Frank lived here.” “Prostitutes work there.”

Before Seba hopped on a train back to Schiphol and on to Milan, Martha and I decided his Dutch day-date wouldn’t be complete without some Vlaamse Frieten. On our way to the Central Station, we stopped by the pigeon-infested Damrak for some Mannekin Pis frites. Named after Brussels’ famed peeing-boy statue, this snack bar serves up freshly sliced French Fries with over twenty sauces. While I just wanted the traditional mayo slather, Martha insisted we try the patat oorlog. These so-called war chips come with a unique condi-combo: mayo, raw onions, and Indonesian sate sauce. Sounds gross, right? So does poutine. And we all know how that turned out.