The Begining of the Rest

Hey, welcome!

I can't believe I'm doing a blog, but I thought it would be the best and an entertaining way to keep you all updated while I'm away. This first posting is a bit long, I know. I wrote this up early on when I had time to go into details, so I promise you, they get better. But do enjoy, and let me know what you think! I can take constructive criticism, dont worry :-)



My First Amsterdam Experience...

Lesson Number 1: Dont go alone to a foreign country where the people refuse to speak english, especially when you don't have an extensive map. The frustration will be unbearable. So i get off in the Amsterdam airport, not expecting a friendly greeting by the Dutch, but at least polite consideration and helpfulness. Having been told that people frequently travel internationally in Europe, I figured that the airport at least would have information about getting to other places like Brussels. Turns out, neither do they not know, but they don't even know how to help you find out. No suggestions, just "i dunno", well the Dutch version which is just a forced smile and a shake of the head. I thought, ok let me buy a guide. In the AIRPORT, they don't have maps in english, only Dutch. Because someone who speaks Dutch would need a map so much more right? Thankfully the train booking agents were nice enough to actually help. Maybe bc they got commission...

In an attempt to avoid paying his salary, I tried to use the ticket machines, only to find out that required knowing where in Brussels one was going. I, as the unprepared traveler didn't know. All I had was a street address that doesn't really tell you much apparently. Who knew Brussels had districts? After paying 10 Euros for 15 mins of internet time, i found enlightenment in WikiTravel and took my new found knowledge to the ticket machine, to only have it
almost eat my Amex card. Defeated I dragged my luggage back to the counter and bought my ticket to Brussels. The officer happily informed me of my fortune of having to switch trains to get to Brussels. God knows what still compelled me to say "no problem!". Maybe the hassle of dragging two suitcases around hadn't affected me yet.


Being told the train was on platform 1 or 2 at 7:28 AM, I ran down to the platform and onto the train that arrived at 7:28. I have to say, I felt ok about myself at this point. I had gotten my ticket, found out where I was going, and even caught the right train! All that changed when the conductor came around and took a bit too long to stamp my ticket. "Vhere are you going miss?" "Uhm... Brussels?" "Then this is the wrong train, we're going in the opposite direction."

Needless to say, that was when I realized that on one track, multiple trains will come, and those signs that mention train information? No they're not stationary signs for the track, but change with the trains. Apparently I was too busy trying to navigate with two suitcases to notice them changing. SO I got off at the next station, stood on the platform and waited for the train back to the airport. Again almost got on the wrong train until someone on the platform told the pilot who got on with me, to get off bc it wasn't going to the airport. Please note, now jabeen had taken her luggage on and off the train 4 times. Eventually I made my way back to their airport and was much more careful to know which train I was getting on before I even moved one suitcase. A few hours later, I woke up as the train was about to leave the Brussels station I was supposed to get off at. I fell off the train in a heap of luggage, but i got off :-) Note: now taken luggage on/off 8 times, and only the first time i got off did someone help.

Not so impressed by the ghetto of ghetto train stations, I was really kicking myself for wanting to go to Brussels for a day. Especially when I didnt find an elevator and took both suitcases up stairs and escalators...with no help from the guys stepping over me mind you.

The next hour didn't help my resentment much either for it was spent as follows:
unsuccessfully finding an atm;
looking like an idiot trying to push through the locked bank door;
crossing the street 5 times with luggage dragging;
refused by a taxi bc my hotel was apparently "only 500 meters awaY!";
and entertaining everyone in those not just 500 meters by the sight of a frazzled covered girl's suitcases getting stuck in the cobblestone roads. 

I have to say, in retrospect the last element was the best. I was even amused in a very cynical way.