I’m going to keep my stories of Belgium and Luxembourg short, because, well there’s just not much to tell.
We spent two nights in Brussels and saw lots of churches and monuments. We saw Mannequin Pis, the statue of the little boy peeing. It’s small. It’s cute. And it’s not nearly as big of a deal as the tour books make it out to be. We drank lots of Belgium beer and had Belgium waffles. That’s really all there is to Brussels. Oh, and the streets and sidewalks are all made of cobblestones. Not suitable for a wheelchair, but doable if you have the determination.
We spent one night in Luxembourg where we did virtually nothing but wander around the streets. We stopped at a restaurant and had cheese fondue. It was the best cheese fondue I’ve had in the entire world. I will forever remember Luxembourg as “the place with the best fondue.”
And then we arrived in Amsterdam…the city of debauchery and sex and drugs and all things wrong and right in this world. We got off the train and spent about an hour looking for the houseboat we would be staying in. An hour of walking around in the heat with backpacks and luggage. So when we found the houseboat, some beers on the floating patio were in order. And that began it all…
We started exploring the city that night with plans to hit the red light district. We were headed for a live sex show followed by drinks and partying. As we approached the entrance to the live sex show, with a gaudy, flashing pink elephant illuminating the sky from its rooftop, I wondered what we would be getting ourselves into. Julie and I weren’t overly excited about this, but after all, we were in Amsterdam. This was a once in a lifetime opportunity, so we had to do it.
We paid $40 each and received two drink tickets. As we seated ourselves in the back row of a very small studio, maybe 10 rows with a maximum capacity of about 100 people, a server came around collecting our drink tickets and bringing us beers. Julie and I chugged them down, a bit uncomfortable with the couple on stage so animalistically going at it. They proceeded for about 10 minutes when they stopped, got up, and walked off stage.
Another couple appeared and started rubbing against each other. The scenery had changed, but the act was still the same…quiet, uncomfortable, and lacking excitement. Again, ten minutes passed and they just removed themselves from the stage.
This went on over and over, with each couple quietly performing the act and never actually finishing. After about 45 minutes, the same couples started reappearing, and it all made sense that this was a circle of couples performing over and over, for ten minutes at a time. It became monotonous and we decided to head out after the next act.
So, all in all, the live sex was just that. Live sex. It wasn’t that exciting. It wasn’t that uncomfortable. It was just plain, boring sex. Well, except for the very final act, which involved a solo woman standing on her head and smoking a cigar out of her who-ha. But really, anyone can do that, right?
We proceeded to party some more in Amsterdam, which lead to beers and shots and a serious debate over who was going to try the legal marijuana. The night carried on to the wee hours of the morning, at which point we found ourselves in several cabs, attempting to get to our houseboat along the river…