Plucky Survivors See Europe Day 67: Brussels to Amsterdam

A few “lasts” today.  I got up early and did my last loads of laundry on this trip.  Not going to miss hauling clothes back and forth to a laundromat and trying to sort out how they work.  I swear, every one has been just different enough that I have to learn it all over again.

Then I hit the road for my last day of driving.  It was a fairly easy jaunt, about two-and-a-half hours, with no issues except for the crazy guy who didn’t like that I didn’t get over fast enough for his liking and decided to cut in front of, and then brake check me.  It was the closest call I have had in nearly 7,000 miles but I’m still very glad I got that dashcam.  Anyone want one?  I won’t be needing it when I get home.

Made it to the car return at Schiphol airport in Amsterdam and turned in PluckyMobile 2.  I apologized for how dirty it was, but they took it in stride. 

Total distance driven?  6,838 miles.

It was also the last time I’ll have to haul those suitcases in and out of the car.  I won’t miss that.

Then had to walk about a mile (not an exaggeration) to get to the Uber pickup point for a quick ride into the city.

My hotel – the last one of the trip – is near the flower market and has a terrace that overlooks Reguliersdwarsstraat, the “gay street” in Amsterdam where a bunch of the bars are located. 

I had to decompress for a little bit and then went for a walk.  Canals!  Pretty buildings!

Amsterdam is freaking gorgeous but the people on all the bicycles are maniacs.  I drove across Europe and I don’t think I came as close to dying as I have just walking down the street in Amsterdam.

I had only eaten some rest stop chicken strips (talk about dangerous) so I needed food.  I found a Mediterranean restaurant called Lavash where I got my go-to – tzatziki, only with a focaccia style and lavash bread, and souvlaki with delicious rice, roasted tomato and pepper, and onions.  It was exactly what I needed.

Tonight there was a World Pride concert that had Billy Porter as one of the singers and I really wanted to go, but they weren’t publicizing when anyone was going to be taking the stage and so the only way to ensure I would see him would be to stand, outside, in a big crowd of people from roughly 5:30pm until 11pm and I think you can all guess what my decision was on that.  Sorry, Billy.  Love ya, but no.

Tomorrow I will be ticking off a bunch of things on my tourist card while trying to avoid getting mowed down by a Schwin.  Wish me luck.