You know how sometimes when reflecting on a past experience, one often romanticizes it? I don’t. I focus on the negative, soon forget it, and then the memory becomes, yeah I did X,Y and Z in Austria! Or was it Paris and it was A,B, and C? Wait, was it Dubai? Sigh. So, while I still remember, I will summarize my Top Deck experience, the good the bad and the ugly hangovers… mostly of drunken 19-25 year old Australians.
Memories include, sleeping on the bus 60% of the trip, laying out damp towels, sweatshirts and other misc crap in my bag as a means to claim the connected seats in the back of the bus; a key spot for optimizing the sleep experience. Waking up to Flo Rida’s “Good Feeling” approximately 43 times over a period of 2 weeks. Having to hold in the need to urinate, otherwise be subjected to feeling like a child when asking permission from the driver to unlock the bathroom. The toilet was reserved for “emergencies” only as there are limited “dumping posts” in Europe. Number # 2 was absolutely forbidden. I wondered how they would really know, but I didn’t test them. I will remember hearing “scheisse”, a German word for ‘shit’ and apparently a favorite expression among a certain subset of ZBT-style crocodile fighters. There will always be the singer/guitar player, who sang Bruno Mars as if our trip was a rehearsal for his upcoming American Idol audition. He did have a great voice and of all the people in the group he connected with everyone, which just shows the power of music.
I did find a group of friends who were my age(ish) from Mexico, coincidentally, where I had originally planned to go for my vacation. After a 3:00am impulse Groupon purchase, I committed to one week of cooking classes in a sleepy town outside of Mexico City. A few weeks before the trip, my dad comes into my room asking me not to go, for fear I would get kidnapped. Even though it’s a bit far-fetched and would most likely never happen, it made me wonder how much he would be willing to put up as ransom money, and like that, I agreed to change my plans and head to Europe.
I loved my time in Amsterdam. Like a true Malcolm G-Wellian I often feel an immediate chemistry when I like something, whether it is a person, a piece of clothing, or a city. Upon the bus pulling into Amsterdam despite “Good Feelings” playing in the background for the 37th time, I had umm a good feeling about the city. It was nicely spread out, yet manageable, and the canals greatly complemented the structure of the city; there were some bad ass urban developers up in the 17th century. I mean the Dutch developed NYC, they’re no joke!
We did see an infamous ‘Sex Show’ consisting of 5 acts where full penetration was the ahem climax of the performance. Parents, here’s where I ask you to stop reading. Consider this blog a public diary, public for everyone except you two. Seriously go away.
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As someone who appreciates the fine art of porn and live theater, the sex show was lacking in both respects. The actress whose vagina was used for penetration, looked as bored and uninterested as a customer service employee for Verizon. The woman was large and not in charge, especially of her frizzy hair. We heard church music and all of a sudden a man came out wearing a choir robe with nothing underneath. He soon revealed the largest penis I have ever seen– not in a movie. It was comparable to Mark Whalberg in Boogie Nights . They go at it, changing positions 3 or 4 times, perfectly choreographed so all audience members could catch a proper glimpse of the least sexual sex act of all time. In the same apathetic sentiment, the women of the Red Light District in their sexy thongs and negligees were talking on their cell phones! Have these women never heard of active salesman ship? That’s what happens when the middle man is cut out and there are no pimps to get these women’s asses in gear!
Another liberal part of the city is the ‘coffee shops’, where people purchase their weed legally. Whereas many people in my group went for the $8 weed brownies, as a value player, I opted to purchase a dime bag. Being that I don’t know what the hell that I’m doing regarding weed herbage, I asked a gentleman to roll one for me. Another guy saw this and in excellent English asked the man I had put to work, “Can you roll one for me too?”. I was highly aware of how ridiculous of a request I had made, and so the wise crack was much appreciated. I invited the jokester to share in the doobie and we wound up having a nice conversation.
After my doobilious experience, I went on a boat cruise as the final hoorah with the Top Deck group. At first most groups of friends stuck together, but as the night progressed and alcohol flowed, there was a distinct merge of social cliques. Aussies with South Africans, Mexicans with chicanos it was wild! People got so crazy, two Aussies wound up SCREAMING at each other about the best way to take care of an Australian Frat boy who was “pissed” out of his mind. To top off the evening, our cab driver got out of the vehicle to physically push my friend Laura and I out, while taking off without giving us change. When Laura shouted “hey he stole my money!” the security at the hostel said, “quiet lady, otherwise we will call the police and kick you out of here”. So much for feeling secure with security.
The memories continue after Amsterdam. We passed by Bruge as a means to return to London, eat waffles, and earn the right to claim we had been to Belgium. I then stayed with my friend Laura whose lives in Zone 6 of London, the Sorbiton station, and had a few days to relax, read my recently purchased Anne Frank book, all the while talking in Spanish. I saw Buckhingham Palace, Picadilly Circus, and celebrated my friend’s birthday at the Brazilian bar Guanabara. I had intended to go to Cambridge and purchased a proper ticket, but somehow I arrived in Oxford, whatevs. I head to America tomorrow, and though I’m not super pumped, I’m ready for it and will appreciate paying in dollars not pounds.
I really like the friends that I made on this trip and hope to travel with them again, without Top Deck. Next Stop: Mexico in December, hmm does anyone sell kidnap insurance?