My first thought in the Netherlands was "damn, this place is green." (And this is before any visits to the "coffeeshops!") Upon flying into Schipol Airport, I saw cows and sheep just chilling out on huge green fields having a great time, which I took as a good omen for my stay. Anyone who has driven down I-5 knows that the cows at Harris Ranch probably have never even seen the color green. This really is a beautiful country and the capital city does not disappoint either.

After 5 hours delayed at gorgeous O'Hare International, Amsterdam had tough shoes to fill. Taking a friend's advice, I took the half hour walk to my hostel instead of hopping on the tram. It was a great introduction to the city. My guidebook said "Amsterdam is to bikes what Los Angeles is to cars." So true. First, this city is completely flat, so you can go anywhere in a bike without breaking a sweat. Everyone rides bikes. Old ladies. Men in suits. Tourists. Today, I rented a bike to get around. Amsterdam is not that large so you can bike from one end to the other relatively easily. You have to keep your eyes out though because with all the bikes, cars, and trams, it doesn't seem like it would take much to get run over.

Last night I went for a little walk. I look like such a tourist too. I thought coming to a country where everyone else is white would maybe hide my foreignness, but with my sandals and cargo pants it's hard to distinguish myself from just another stoner American visiting Amsterdam. I walked past a boy and his mom and I swear to God I heard him say, "look, a backpacker, Mommy." A hundred canals in concentric circles weave their way throughout the city. That's a lot of canals and of course I forgot my map. When I left the hostel, it was light and there were a good number of people walking the streets. By the time I realized I was completely lost, it was dark and the touristy-looking couples to strung-out street person ratio was rapidly decreasing. But I kept telling myself "this is not Oakland, this is Holland. They are famous for wooden shoes and windmills, not drive-bys." Needless to say, I made it back with nothing but sore feet.

Well, I've got more biking to do.

P.S. Still have not tried any pastries, but I've heard the stroopwaffles are delicious.