Canal Cruising or How To Lose You Hat & Not Notice For A Few Hours

Having survived the previous day's TT and subsequent celebrations and parties the NECS set out on our third day for naval support duties. Rolling out of the Hotel Nes it was back onto the trusty steeds to return them to the safe keeping of the local bike shop. Of course with the last night having gone into the wee hours our first stop was De Dampkring for a quick pick me up.
Having yet again survived altered state cycling, we headed out on the next adventure - securing the safety of the canals from the deadly contagion - river pickles - by running an all day patrol boat.These generally appear on Sunday mornings when the drunken sots from the night before can't find a crapper and decide to hang it off one of the bridges to drop the kids off at the pool.In order to make the departure of the trusty U.S.S. Dampkring we had to take the short cut through the Red Light district middle morning. You can imagine the shock to our system when we encountered not the Eastern European beauties of the night before but the grave yard shift from the local steel mill. All I could say was "either I was so drunk last night that the ugly girls looked hot or these girls worked so hard last night they aged a lifetime". Either way I quickly came to the conclusion if I was Oedipus I was in heaven, but being a regular guy, I was scared. Certainly all your motherly desires could be satisfied for 20 Euros.We all came to one conclusion, as soon as we were on board it was off to the closest bar, which happened to be the crooked house, a fine establishment that was serving up our favorites Palms and Le Chouffe.With a real solid morning buzz working, it was only 11 am Amsterdam time, we decided it was time to shovel some of the fine cuisine of the town down our hungry pie holes so it was off to Wilhelmia-Dok for lunch. To get there we had to navigate the mighty Ij river, the busiest waterway in Amsterdam, complete with cruise ships and freighters that had no ability to stop for a boat load of drunks. Armed with De Dampkring lollipops and a travel mug of Palms, like the Minnow in Gilligan's Island, we set out for a 3 hour tour. By the time it was over our stomachs were full of moar beer and fine cuisine, now all we needed was the afternoon espresso and the day would be complete. Sadly on the way to the coffee shop the prop became fouled (possible river pickle damage) and we had to head back to base for a replacement craft. It was about this time that Braveheart realized he and another one of his hats had parted company. Faced with the prospect of either a multi hour return to Wilhelmia - Dok or the immediate gratification of the coffee shop up the canal it had all the potential to be a tough decision - NOT. It was a no brainer and some lucky Dutchman is now sporting a Yoshimura Giants hat.
Next up we needed to do something about the dehydration we were suffering from so Mathias quickly tied up to the canal wall and was off for a case of Heineken's to cover the afternoon cruise. You can imagine our surprise when right above us on the street was the local party bench for the city drunks, and it was a mangy crew that had occupied the slats that day. Of course in the interest of keeping the city clean and safe the police showed up moments later and immediately harassed the 2 local business men (of middle eastern persuasion) but left the drunks alone. I guess the rational is the drunks are too drunk to cause a problem but a couple of carpet traders handing briefcases back and forth could be trouble.
With the sun setting, our stomachs empty and our heads spinning it was time for dinner and preparation for the balance of the night. Finishing up yet another tasty meal at Vao, we headed out for the "get ready" espressos and a final night of action. First stop after was a local bar where we stumbled into a Sunday night ecstasy party complete with a DJ that looked like a cross between Crocodile Dundee and the helio pilot from The Road Warrior and a host that looked like Gary Glitter.Of course there was the standard fare of Dutch women in black skirts, black tights, boots but this time they were dancing on the bar stools and tables while the strobe lights raged. All of the sudden Braveheart was gone and then in a blink of an eye he was back and ready to rage.

For a grand finale Mathias escorted to one of his favorite hangouts, there was no name, only a plain door with a scary looking bouncer. Once inside it was strip club time and we all pushed Braveheart up to the stage to "take one for the boys" and take one he did, getting the most incredible labia dance any of us have ever seen. Well his dance was getting the other patrons all revved up and suddenly we noticed that everyone had close cut hair, 5 day shadow, black tshirts or tracksuits! My god we were in the land of the Albania tracksuit mafia.With final shake of her assets we were out the door before the guns could come out and on our way to the final nightcap. Sitting back sipping an espresso Braveheart suddenly comments "why do I smell like a cheap hooker" which put everyone on the floor laughing. It truly was game, set match, time to go home while we were alive.