The Living Rockumentary

I'm back from my Cologne/Amsterdam vacation (actually, been back a week, but didn't wanna write through jetlag, and without having processed things mentally, then I got all busy blah blah)
I'll provide a link to another view of this vacation, but for now, you're
stuck with me. I'll write about things not in the other source.

Why Cologne? Because Nico was born there, of course! Actually, no. (M stumbled upon that bit of info while reading a Rolling Stone on a train. But it did make it seem a little cooler, to picture a little Nico walking past the Dom. )
Anyway, why Cologne (or Koln)? It was part of a Travelzoo.com top 20 deals of the week and it was ch-ch-cheap.
Ning has been there before, as has L Bezo. Weird.

We stayed at a hostel 200 yards from the train station. It was my first hostel, and they had rooms that had their own bathrooms. So it was really like a cheap hotel. Designed with all IKEA stuff.
Outside we could hear the train station, which was pretty much natural industrial music: metal on metal screech, distorted announcements, and the repetitive 3 note tune which preceded each announcement.

Contrast this with what we heard outside the Amsterdam hotel: birdsongs and the sound of bikes. In fact, I heard some of the most beautiful birdsongs while in Amsterdam. Nightingales perhaps?

Back to Cologne--
at night, it's mostly all men. Men in large groups, drinking. We tried to go in a few beer halls, but considered them hell. I enjoy at least 2 cm breathing room.
We did eat some nice food, and the Kolsch was always lovely. (The Hostel sold pint bottles of Kolsch for 2 euros--the best deal in town).
The Museum Ludwig was mindblowing. A who's who of modern art. I'd never seen so much Picasso. And there was a Man Ray photo exhibit, but by the time we discovered that wing, we were fading.

Onto Amsterdam, in an ICE train--very fast, comfortable and modern. Got us there in 3 hours. (that's with a few stops).
Finding the hotel was a challenge, with all our luggage especially. We found what we thought was it, but it turned out it was one with a similar name and somehow we goofed. But we got back on the tram and after a few stops (and asking a local or three) we found our place.
Alas, the room wasn't ready, so they took our luggage and we had lunch at a nice cafe nearby.
This area was Vondel Park. The park itself is great--ponds, dogs, bikes, joggers, little kids, tourists getting stoned (not quite legal outside of one's home or in a coffe shop, but mostly overlooked). The neighborhoods surrounding it are some of the most affluent in the city. In the 60's it was the place for be-ins etc.
We settled in eventually, took a nap and hit the town in the evening. The weather was perfect the whole time.
I started to get a little tired and was ready to call it a night, when we found ourselves lost. We discovered that we were just a few blocks away from the legendary Paradiso, a music venue/dance club.
I had to be convinced to go, but was glad we did. Even if it was only dancing on this night, and to me, dancing in public is as frightening as getting up on stage is to other people. I make people dance, but I don't dance. Marisa can dance and I just thought everyone was like "who's the dork she's with?"
Upstairs, in a sideroom we'd just missed a gig by a cool, retro looking band, but I didn't get their name. I just saw guys with sideburns and a shiny old Ludwig kit.
I remembered a Dead bootleg recorded there, as well as one of XTC's final shows leading up to the onstage meltdown a mere week later. (that show is available, I found, on xtc4u.org).

So, what else? Awesome food. Awesome people. Fun city. Gotta go back.

This was my 5th time to Europe, and kind of the first one where one could sense the changed attitude toward the good ol' USA.

I felt slightly ashamed when...
--Two hotel employees, about 20 years old, told us how John McCain was flmed at a campaign stop joking about "that old Beach Boys song: Bomb Bomb Iran". (I since saw it on You Tube--not just a lame ass joke, but his delivery was that of a nervous 5th grader giving a book report)
These guys knew more about American current events than most American adults. We met them in the hotel bar and had a few beers with them.
--These loud American guys on a train to the airport were saying the lamest things like "Nice, KFC! The Colonal made it over!" and to their German companion "So, your subway system can take you all different parts of your city? That's great" (like Germany is some underdeveloped nation) and as they were leaving "Well, it's time for us cowboys to ride off into the sunset". These dudes got glares they deserved from the locals.
Lucky for us, these same guys were on both plane rides--and yup, they "whhooo!!"d when we took off and clapped when we landed. Ugh.
--A couple Turkish guys and one Iraqui guy were flirting with M in the hostel lounge. They thought she was British, and when she said American, their attitude changed a bit. We told them we hated the war and said good night on good terms.
See, peace is not that hard. I don't hate America.

I read Jonathan Lethem's new one "You Don't Love me Yet" during the trip and enjoyed it. It's a fast read, made me wanna be in Cali, and I spotted at least one Philip Price reference.

Oh, I got Hob nobs. They kept me alive during the last morning when we thought there was no time to eat. But that's another story. Hob Nobs!