Amsterdam, a Strange Memory

The return journey from Scandinavia to Italy is very long. So, after leaving Copenhagen, we decide to stop for three days in Amsterdam. The city is beautiful, the canals fascinating, the Van Gogh museum appreciable even by an 18-year-old a bit unlucky like me. Who, of that city, admired, appreciated and above all was curious about the coffeeshops that sell weed, the girls displayed in windows, that air of absolute freedom that pervades it. But not all that glitters is gold...

In fact, too many things happened to us. Because we were young and a bit foolish (and so it's understandable to end up in a very dirty hostel just because the girl peeking at the station was very pretty, but she works at that hostel and wants to bring you there), but also unlucky. Because not even in Amsterdam is it mandatory to get robbed by a guy, Italian!!!, on the street, who threatens you with a needle. And it's not mandatory either that in the room with you, in the hostel, someone robs a Canadian who kept his money in his backpack locked with a padlock. Except that backpacks get cut open and padlocks are useless, and so then the Police arrive (if the theft is significant, around 1,000 dollars), and ask questions, and almost interrogate you, and then leave you to go away a bit scared. Scared enough to decide to let it go, for this time.

We'll come back to the Netherlands another time: no one can take the train to Italy away from us.