A weekend of purple haze in Amsterdam

I'm shattered. Into a thousand tiny pieces and I need to recollect my fragmented thoughts.


Amsterdam is a zany place. "Set me your McKroket ." Katy fell up the slippery steps. A guy called Wayne played 9 ball by himself. He wore a shower cap and put footprints on the bed.

Katie has supernatural abilities to find Americans wherever we go and so she did. we all sat talking in a shady but sophisticated coffee shop, between the brothels, irish pubs, sex shops and take-away food outlets. A middle aged gothic-looking woman whom I named "Zelda" smoked hash for hours and stared at Hannah . Then it was 3am and we walked back in the direction of the hotel. It was dark, damp and misty. I thought it made everything look more pretty. JC thought it felt ominous. We said our goodbyes and went to our room. Katie and I sat by the open window and smoked more whilst the church bells tolled.
The next day was overcast but it seemed so bright in comparison to the night before. We went into a cute cafe nearby and stumbled unexpectedly upon JC, Christy and Cam so we drank coffees and ate breakfast together. Cam sang pop songs that everybody knows and talked about his ex-girlfriend and how she felt about her body.
After shopping and picking out adorable pink mittens we went back to Rembrandtplein and smoked again. I signed our names on the bathroom wall.
A double-decker train took us back to the airport. I sat by the window and saw the lighthouses on the coast of Holland flashing and I saw the streetlights turn into dotted patterns and then nothing. I saw my bag come off the plane. We listened to music in the car on the way home and we were all tired and reflective. I wonder if any of our new found acquaintances will be in touch?