Antwerpen, Groundhog Dag & Kat voor Diner

In order to give Jason some time with his uncle, Aisha and I slept in rather late. However, we delayed a rather simple, yet hardy breakfast. It constisted of pastries, cheese, cerals, muffins and coffee. It was amazing. To top it off, there was reggae & Jamaican rap playing in the background. Unlike American rap, Jamaican rap has a message. We sat at the table for about two hours just talking. It was so relaxing and so amazing, yet this was not the end.

We loaded up the car and allowed Uncle Lukey to give us a tour of his tour. It is amazing how much he knows about the town. Then again, I supposed we should all know about the place we live. He was very pleased to give us tours of local attractions and introduce us to prominent community members. The tour concluded in a beer bar that is known for having famous jazz musicians. The only one that wanted a beer (a little after noon) was Aisha. We made her drink it pretty fast so that Uncle Lukey could drop us off at the commuter train station.

You ever have a day that felt like the same thing was happening over and over again? Well, I think today qualifies as one of those days. A local hottie got on the same communter train as we. However, she got off a stop before we did. She was really beautiful and I wanted to follow her, but I didn't. We made our way to the main station. Upon arrival, we found that the train actually picks up at the previous station. In other words, I should have followed the hot girl. After making it back to this station, we somehow got on the wrong train and ended up back at the same station. Learning our lesson, we tried again... ok, so maybe we didn't learn our lesson. It took about three tries before we finally got on the right train.

We arrived in Amsterdam a little after ten. We found our hostel and it had to be the most amazing place ever, St. Christopher's. It was at the entrance to the red light district and had a bar/restaurant on the main floor. The rooms were themed, so our place was painted wall to wall with the EastPak character. We were also on the top floor. This was a great place to end a day that was rocky for awhile.

After we checked in, we decided to get something to eat. While walking, I noticed a place that made doner kababs. Since I loved them so much, I persuaded Aisha and Jason to try them. They agreed. Alarms did not go off when I asked him what kind of meat it was and he said, "I don't know. It is meat. It is not pork, but it is meat." We ordered and waited as he heated up the meat. Heated up? The was no flame, so searing. He pulled the meat out of a freezer. I should have let it stop right there, but I didn't. While we were standing in line, three "interesting" girls from Wales walked in and began to hold conversation with me. They were in great spirits until they looked down and saw two kittens freely crawling about the establishment. They began to rant about how unsanitary this was (in the cutest little accents). Just as they calmed, the man handed me my "doner kabab". I didn't look like it normally did. I took a bite... then looked at the floor. I seriously think he cut up those kittens and served the meat. I payed for all three and advised Aisha and Jason against eating them. It was horrible. We walked up and down the street looking for a trash can.

1 comment:

Francis L. Holland Blog said...

That sounds terrible, but it reminds me of something that happened to me on a trip to Poland! Wherever I go, I like to eat what other people eat, unless it's obviously unsafe for me to do so. So, when I saw a bakery full of Polish stuff in Krackovie, I order a variety of things, eating some of them there and taking some back to my room at the "albergue" to eat later at night.

The next morning, just as I was walking past that same Polish bakery, I suddenly felt an explosive need to relieve myself. I went into the bakery, but they refused to let me use the bathroom. While I was standing out in front, trying to decide what to do next in my emergency situation, all hell broke loose in the most embarrassing way.

I had just spent three years in France without ever eating at McDonalds, but my next meal was at a McDonalds in Crakovie, Poland.