I’m back from Amsterdam! It was beautiful and dirty and weird and exhausting.
In early April, I traveled there with my friend Colin. He had been to Amsterdam a few years ago, encouraged me to travel abroad ever since and was interested in going back. Around Christmas 2024, he convinced me to make the journey and we decided to travel in the spring. In January 2025, we booked our flights and hostel.
We flew out of PHX. To make things easier - mostly to avoid the stress of unforeseen traffic on I-10 - I drove to Phoenix the night before the flight. I think I was too excited, so I didn’t sleep that night. The hotel had a basketball court. Weird and random.
The basketball court at Homewood Suites in Phoenix.
Over the Atlantic Ocean at sunrise.
The flight from Arizona to France was about 10 hours. I realize people endure much longer flights, but it was the longest flight I’ve ever taken. The rows were tight, the seat was uncomfortable and I couldn’t fall asleep. (This is now two days without sleep.) The food was bad, except for the egg breakfast pastry. And no alcohol. We arrived in Paris and scrambled to make our connecting flight.
A stairwell at Charles de Gaulle Airport.
A stairwell at Charles de Gaulle Airport.
After the most ridiculous maze through the entire airport (with guidance from a guardian angel airport employee who helped us cut the security line), then a bus ride back around the entire airport to a make-shift parking lot tarmac, we flew to Amsterdam. After a couple trains to get from the airport to Centraal Station, we rode the free ferry to Amsterdam Noord and walked to the hostel.
Bunk was a pod-style hostel in a converted church - St. Rita’s. Imagine “Hollywood Squares” sleeping quarters with colorful lighting and dramatic curtains. Colin stayed at Bunk on his previous trip and I read enough reviews on Trip Advisor to realize it would be fine.
Pod 34 was my home for the week.
My biggest complaint with the pod area in Bunk: there wasn’t much space to put anything. A storage locker under the bed fit one carryon piece of luggage. Three pegs inside each pod held shirts and pants. A net catch-all stored my phone, wallet and eyeglasses while I slept. There were two bathroom areas: one with toilet closets and sinks, the other with shower closets and sinks. Very little counter space for toiletries and poor lighting when you’re trying to pluck your ear hairs and unibrow. The doors of the toilet and shower closets had very cool but strange wallpaper murals: a Rococo-meets-flapper-meets-pinup woman - underwater? The toilets were clean enough and the showers had excellent water pressure.
The public areas were just as dark and moody but cool. A T-Rex greeted you at the entrance. There was a library that I’m convinced no one used. The cafe was usually crowded for breakfast and dinner. But I snapped these photos on my first morning there. I didn’t sleep well the entire trip. I think I got three to four hours of sleep a night. The bed and pillow were comfortable but I simply couldn’t sleep. So I’d get out of bed, take advantage of the empty spaces and solitude, and read a book until the cafe opened (at 7:30 a.m.). It was “vacation,” so I indulged in two lattes each morning: oat milk (almond milk wasn’t readily available) with raw sugar. Each mug and saucer came with an almond cookie. I read and sipped and waited for Colin before ordering food. The food was excellent but the service was terrible. So many people said, “Tipping isn’t a thing in Europe!” Oh, it was.
Morning reading.
Each morning I ordered eggs Benedict, either with salmon or avocado. (I was pretty adventurous - for me - with seafood on this trip: I ate cod, salmon and shrimp.) One morning, I waited an hour between getting my latte and placing a food order because the servers seemed to ignore everyone. I purposely made eye contact and smiled, but they rushed by to do something else. I finally waved at one who seemed shocked and confused as to why I needed her attention. Servers - at Bunk and at other restaurants - never checked back in to make sure the order was correct or to ask if anything else was needed. And they never brought the bill. We had to walk up to the server stand with a credit card and say, “I’d like to pay now.” or else we’d sit forever. And before tapping the card or inserting the chip? Always a tip screen. It made me appreciate the overly-involved servers in bars and restaurants in America.
Bunk in relation to the city center.
Amsterdam had a lot of beautiful architecture. It reminded me of Philadelphia. Really old mixed with new. Tight spaces with front doors and living room windows so close to the sidewalk. Narrows streets and charming arches. But Amsterdam was dirty. Garbage and cigarette butts strewn across the pavement. Trash floated in the otherwise picturesque canals. Too much bad graffiti. More on all that later.
Behind-the-scenes photo by Colin.
There were a lot of bicycles. And traffic was nuts. I didn’t see any traffic lights, only crosswalk-type lights. There were two crosswalk symbols that illuminated: a bike or a pedestrian. Cyclists appeared to have the right-of-way, then pedestrians, then vehicles. Taxis were either Mercedes or Tesla. Everyone on a bike looked the same: no smile, furrowed brow, trench coat and over-ear headphones. Instead of texting while driving a car, the Dutch texted while cycling.
The sexiest bike I saw: VanMoof. 🤩
Never chained up because it had an anti-theft feature.
How would you find your bike?!