Amsterdam - Day Twenty Seven

We left the Airport Hilton a little bit after check-out time and caught a train back to Centraal Station. When we got there we once again demonstrated our complete inability to learn from past mistakes, and so headed off on foot to the main Amsterdam Hilton, despite none of us having a clear idea of where it was, or being prepared to ask for directions.

I try to pack light, but my bags get a little heavy when I have to walk aimlessly around a city for an hour or two, so I was a little bit touchy by the time we eventually asked for directions and found we were a thirty minute walk away. We jumped on a tram (which, of course, we should have done in the first place) and had our first bit of good luck in not paying for it, as none of us could work out how to get tickets.

Our rooms weren't ready when we arrived, so we were shown to some leatherbound armchairs next to a log fire in the hotel bar and given a couple of rounds of free drinks (the fools!). Predictably the guys ordered five of the most expensive cocktails on the menu, the Caribbean Gold, which at 21 euros cost more than most hostels I've been staying in. I went for a gin and tonic...

When we finally did get our rooms they seemed unspeakably lovely to me. After a month of smelly travellers in crowded dorms and and long walks down cold corridors to get to the bathroom, the en suite seemed like a palace of luxury, and my bed was so comfortable I almost considered just getting an early night and making the most of it.

We walked into town, stopping at an Irish bar on the way for some food, booze and pool, and then finding a couple of bars that had live music. The first place was a little cheesy (middle of the road rock with the guitarists getting a bit too into their solos), but the second was a funky little jazz bar, with a tight band lead by a girl on the trumpet. Things seemed to be going well, but then - with an impeccable ability to create chaos out of harmony - Ryan and Byron decided that they wanted to go to a casino. They had left their passports at the hotel, and their plan was to run back and get them, then come back to us in the bar. We gave them a deadline of an hour to do that, and waited in the bar until 12.10am, but there was no sign of them.

It was a shame to get seperated on a night like that, but by this point the jazz was sounding a little samey and we were sick of waiting around on our last night in town. We all wanted a big night out, and that wasn't what we were getting. We walked out into the rain and headed for the centre.

The night was probably doomed from that point on. All the bars closed at 1am as it was a sunday night, so we had less than an hour anyway. When we did find a decent place, we somehow managed to get thrown out it when the angry Dutch barman misunderstood Avvon and took offence at us. We bought a dodgy takeaway which we ate in the rain, then caught a cab back to the hotel, where there was still no sign of Byron and Ryan. So much for things going to plan.