Another day in Amsterdam

How much difference a few hours can make, especially when those few hours contain a reasonably decent nights sleep. As mentioned in yesterdays post the hotel with which we had to endure had many factors against it, the worst was probably the fact that an actively popular bar nestled uncomfortably close. As the night drew on, the clientele spilled out onto the street to occupy the space outside our ground floor window. The group of bicycles immediately beneath our window (what is the collective noun for bikes, a rust?) gave us some respite but the constant murmur and occasional raucous raised voice prevented any real lull within which either Sam or I could sink into a doze of any description. I demanded a TV remote from reception, evidently they are too tight to leave them in the rooms, and pumped the TV up in volume to a level sufficient to drown out the noise beyond our room. This worked, Sam fell asleep and I soon followed. An hour or so later I reduced the volume by half with a similar result, we both sank back into a reasonably decent snooze. At about 3AM I turned off the volume altogether and we slept soundly until the traffic outside increased and I awoke at just before 6. A result I think, especially as the negative reviews on the hotel mainly referred to the noise.

This morning was a calm affair. I thought it would be good to allow Sam some time to wake slowly whilst I thought through the strategy for the day and rang the office (our euphemism for calling Emma). As I sat facing the canal which separated our hotel from the Leidseplein, I drank in the calm tranquility of the leafy avenue of the canal path and smiled as I watched the rats go about their business.

The plan to hit IBC early was a good one and by lunch time I had sufficient information to continue with my new business plan. I hooked up with an old mate at the IBC pub and discussed mutually beneficial opportunities. Hands shook, Sam and I decided that it was time for some food and that we should do this in the vicinity of the hotel. After changing, Sam not me, we wandered around the area behind the Heineken experience, finally deciding to eat at Donnely’s, a ubiquitous Irish kit bar in the Heinekenplein. The staff are great and the food was passable but expensive. Sam was a little drunk after three and a bit pints and opted to return to the hotel room for a snooze, I grabbed my blog-monster and repaired to the bar next door.

And here I sit, drinking Bacardi Black with ice as the staff entertain.