'Round the World with an Italian Supermodel

Sleeping--and waking up--I don't really know how to put it into words. There was simply a tranquility to the place that was far removed from a range of normal experience.







And then....another feast:



I remember snapping a picture of the table laid out for breakfast, but can't find it. No matter--THIS pic below....argh. If this was available every morning I wouldn't need an alarm clock ever again. The best steak tartare I've ever eaten. Imagine just the raw centers of the best ribeye and the best filet mignon you've ever had, then grind up that mental image of salivating perfection with parsley and garlic and some other secret herbs, chill it to the perfect temperature and....gggaaahhhh....

Hospitality way beyond what I ever need or expect. Two very wonderful people I'm fortunate to have met. Hoping I can stop by on my way back East. (Please?)







And then....off.

Next stop:

I really wasn't sure what to expect with Amsterdam other than what it's known for (Hash Bars, Red Light District, Windmills), probably in that order. About, oh, I don't know--32 meters into the city two police in a minivan began following me. As soon as the light turned red in front of me, they darted around and cut in front of me, so that the passenger window officer was on my left. Not a big deal, she just had some questions to ask me about my plate and where I was from. Satisfied with "I'm from CA, just passing through." I was off a few moments after the light changed to green.

About, oh, 3 minutes later (not kidding), another cop starts tailing me, then moves in for the kill.



He, too, did not like my plate location, but unlike the other officers, I wasn't going to go anywhere anytime soon.



We went through the usual stuff...license, international license, registration, what are you doing here, you can't have this mounted here, etc...and then he checked all the VIN numbers and spent several minutes on his Motorola while cab drivers stared on FURIOUSLY (he pulled me over in a cab-only-parking zone). I'd been warned that Amsterdam is probably one of the best cities in the world to get your bike stolen in, so I was actually happy he was going through all the checks to make sure it wasn't Daan "Knuckles" Swinnen on my bike instead of me.

10 minutes later I was free to go:


Should have asked him for some Police decals, maybe that would keep would-be-thieves away from my bike.

Aside from the police, Amsterdam is not a fun city to ride a motorcycle in. Some are, some aren't. Amsterdam is not. The Dutch do, however, really ....... love bicycles (I have zero problems with this, if everyone had a car there'd be no room to drive anywhere, let alone walk). There must be two bikes for every one citizen (presumably from locking one up and then not being able to find it amongst thousands):

I'd been warned, warned and warned again to not--under any circumstance--leave my bike unattended in Amsterdam. But I had no choice. Things to do, things to see, things to eat.





I knew there were canals in Amsterdam, just had no idea the extend of 'em. Quite stunning:





And of course, lots of architecture and hustle and bustle.







(Along with the usual performance panhandling you find in major met areas

Indonesian food is a culinary weakness of mine. The Dutch, having imperialized Indonesia back when Imperialism was cool, meant more Indonesian restaurants per square kilometer than any other city I'll ever visit outside of Jakarta.



Too bad it wasn't beyond average. I did get the 'non-white-person' spice after a couple requests, so it wasn't a total loss.

Though I probably visited places in reverse order, I did have to ride my bike back to where I was staying. But I was in Rome and damn it if I wasn't going to do what they do: visit a coffee shop.

http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/7/7f/Coffee_shop_license_AMS_mirror.JPG

Not to be confused with cafes, coffee shops sell Marijuana and hash. I'd never smoked hash before, so I was kind of excited. I'm definitely no burner, but hey, I'm on vacation, right? Sort of?



I got the G13 and the Arabian Nights. Course, they could have given me F2 and Ukranian days and I wouldn't have known the difference. Though it's cool not having to be paranoid of getting busted for possession, buying illicit substances over a counter in broad daylight, well, takes the illicitness out of it. Take the good with the bad, I suppose.

Apparently the shops used to sell shrooms, too. They don't anymore because all the tweaked out tourists freaking out all over the city kept, well, freaking tourists out. I thought it was probably a result of narco-tourists just overdoing it, but then I discovered the REAL reason for all the bad trips:

A couple more parting shots of the city:











The biggest surprise of the day? My bike was still where I parked it!!!



And then it was home to 'inhale some appetite-stimulating vapors' and, errr....eat, of course!

But all of the above is a pretty solid misrepresentation of what most of The Netherlands look like. Ready for it?











Road from the cottage apt. I stayed at:




Oh yes...and Windmills....not quite everywhere, but they certainly punctuate the landscape well and are a positive visual icon (both figuratively and visually).

Did a little experimenting. This ride report sure would be a lot different if I'd selected a slightly different color bike, no? Details, details, details.





And Amsterdam wouldn't look quite the same if this were the 50s....

So back at the end of the Coast to Coast trip, Damiaan Hage, the editor of Motor Magazine in the Netherlands called and asked me to write an article for 'em, which I most happily did. So being that I was near, shot off an email and visited their offices.





Turns out I was the first guest in their new offices.

They were literally just moving in, but it was nice to see that they put up the essentials first:





After hearing so many rumors about bike thefts in Amsterdam (as well as meeting people who lost bikes), I asked Damiaan what the real story was. He said that it's so bad a group of thieves cut open and ripped the top off one of their storage containers for test bikes and lifted all of 'em out. Basically, in no uncertain terms, implored me NOT to leave my bike unattended. Even in the industrial area they were in in the middle of the day was rather risky....

Guess I got lucky when I left my bike parked on the street for a few hours.

In the US I didn't worry because the bike was insured. In Europe, no one offers insurance for bikes registered out of the country, so it's basically like leaving a $20k backpack filled with money on the curb.

Next stop: Nuenen.

Van Gogh lived in Nuenen for a couple years and the bike and I did a little following in his footsteps. The above was a small church he painted and below is the path into his/his parents backyard/garden (where he painted in a laundry room-turned-studio).







Front of the house:



Road out to one of the subjects of his paintings:



The subject itself behind:

Afterwards I cruised over to Moto Puro, the local Ducati dealer, to meet up with a Eveline & Jean-Claude, the owners I'd met at World Ducati Week. They had an open house, but I was just a little late and missed the festivities.





Aside from being incredibly kind, exceptionally passionate about the brand and super helpful, their shop built the Elite II:



I'd seen it at World Ducati Week, but it probably took a good 10 seconds of staring at it and taking pictures to realize that it's a Panigale. Phenomenal job. (I believe it's up for sale for anyone wanting a naked 1199.)

Last parting shot of The Netherlands:

Wow absolutely brilliant pics and commentary, keep em coming I look forward to reading your reports