Queen's Day 2007

It’s been a couple of weeks since the last post, but what a couple of weeks! First Queen’s Day with Tommy G (the biggest national holiday in the Dutch calendar), backed up with a long weekend in Dublin; simply epic.
Friday night, after work, involved work drinks to welcome in the holiday season. Expecting Tom to get there about 9pm or so, I’d duck out, dump his bags and bring him back to festivities before heading out. But I get a call at 6 and he’s missed his flight. Went… (wait for it) to the wrong airport. Only in London, with 4 options, could you go to the wrong airport. No matter – he’d be a little later that night but I’d be several more free beers down at the office. By the time he did arrive, I was well on my way to plastered, having just had a lively discussion about the pros and cons of Xbox vs. PS3 which nearly came to blows (in fact, I don’t really have an opinion on the matter, but stirring him up was way too much fun).
Having found Tom, we dumped his bags and headed out to Spui (pronounced Spow I’ve now learnt) to meet Anno and more of her French friends. Essentially Tom and I got stuck into the beers but the difference between the two parties was noticeable – the extended drinking on my side versus the subdued marijuana-induced coma of the Frogs. In fact, I’m not sure how appreciated my exuberance was. Either way, Tom and I enjoyed ourselves to the wee hours and then stumbled home to crash.
The next morning was consumed with the search for a reasonable café for breakfast (not a meal I’ve been accustomed to in Amsterdam due to my propensity to the snooze button). Wandering the canals for nigh on an hour, we eventually came across something that resembled a café and sat down. From memory, which is thoroughly hazy, and no photographic evidence until much later that night, we chilled in the apartment sinking beers and watching Arnie back to back. Eventually we headed down to a café in De Pijp (the Surry Hills of Damage) that, once we finally found it sans directions, turned out to be a winner. €5 for some of the strongest mojitos I’ve ever had meant that loosening up wasn’t a problem. But our party had other ideas – a house party further into the depths of unknown territory. With more battle communications and some of the best gut-instinct map work you’ve ever seen, we appeared at the front door… just as the decision was made to head to another bar. Essentially a venue too small for the amount of people we had (which ignores that fact that it already had its own thriving contingent of drunk Dutchmen) we were jammed up into one corner. But the alcohol and conversation flowed freely and again, we stumbled home hammered (only this time it was an hour long covert op north – not the most pleasant march home I’ve ever had).
Waking up the next day, we were determined to achieve something, so it was decided Tom and I would head to the Rijksmuseum and, if we had time, the Heineken Experience. After brushing the option of a one and a half hour cut-in at the Anne Frank house (though the offer was most generous), we strolled down to Museumplein where we did a speed-through of the Rijksmuseum, limited to one minor wing for renovations. We then waltzed down Museumplein and up to the Heineken Museum, getting there seconds before it closed. Actually, it HAD closed but I sweet-talked the hot door-bitch into letting us in, haha. What a joke the Heineken Experience is. We burned through it in no time, only waiting to experience being a beer going through the bottling process and at the bars to score our free beers. And to play a drum-kit made of giant beer bottle tops – standard.
It was Sunday night by this stage, ‘Queen’s Night’ – the day before the holiday when everyone just heads out to get blind. The streets were heaving and there were people everywhere. After wandering around, Anno called to see where we were and we ended up in the most rammed street, sneaking beers and talking shit. The night is a blur, but Anno came back to see my apartment with Tom and I and then she and I disappeared back into the streets with a bottle of wine and two glasses to find her crew. Class.
Queen’s Day is simply ridiculous. The canals are flooded with people on both sides who are still drinking from the previous night. There innumerable boats with a driver, a DJ and 40 dancing people busting out their best moves as they meander down the canals. Every 10 metres or so, someone is stroking their narcissistic DJ alter-ego by pushing their speakers and decks out the window for the benefit of dancing revellers below. With plenty of time, Tom and I explored the Vondelpark, full of kids performing and families undertaking the traditional garage style in the park (no one pays tax on Queen’s Day and it has become a tradition to flog your shit). Tom stepped up to the plate with the ‘crush-an-egg-with-a-boule-and-win-a-six-pack’ and scored the beer on throw number 3 (he only mentioned afterwards that he’s actually pretty awesome at boule).
We wandered back through Museumplein, where DJ Tiesto was headlining a massive free concert (we’re talking 2-3 times as big as main stage at Big Day Out) and back to canals. We missed Puck (her friend had taken a glass shrapnel wound to the foot and retired hurt) but we met with Anno and her friends toward the end of the night.
I needed to be up for work the next day and Tom had an early train to Dusseldorf, but it was with GREAT reluctance that we surfaced at 8am the next day. What an epic long weekend!