This picture shows Jonathan in the Buli (as it is called in German) moments before departure. Sören's 1981 VW Bus served as our mobile home in Amsterdam. Our first place of residence was this wonderful parking lot that extended into the bay. After some difficulty scrounging up nearly 20 euros in change to pay for our parking pass we set up shop right there in the parking lot that was to be our home for the next 39 hours. At 5 euro a night per person the price was certainly right! The first time I was in Amsterdam I stayed at an apartment located directly in the redlight district. It was a totally different experience than squatting around the outskirts of the city, and almost as crazy. The main difference was where we spent most of our time. Instead of being in the city center for the entire time we made runs into the city to see the sights and do some shopping, while spending a the majority of the time hanging out in the outskirts of the city. While this may sound less desirable to some, it was its own special experience - there is so much more to Amsterdam than just the touristy areas. All of the pictures displayed below were taken from our little slice of heaven on the asphalt where we parked the Buli.
The only negative thing I can say about Amsterdam is that the weather did not cooperate... You can tell from André's expression how excited he was to be caught in a downpour on the way into the city the day we got there.
As I was saying earlier there is a lot more to the city then just what you see in the city center. These pictures were taken on the far side of the train station.
We spent our second evening in Amsterdam in the city cruising the strip. Amsterdam has an atmosphere like no other city I have ever been to. It is almost impossible to describe and not everyone agrees on exactly what it is that makes this place so special. It is something I think everyone just has to experience for themselves.
Contrary to the prevailing Americans viewpoint on ladies of the night, most of the prostitutes in the red light district are actually beautiful women. There is no where else in the world that I know of that can match Amsterdam for shock value when it comes to open legalized prostitution. At about 2:30 in the morning when we finally got back to the Buli, we experienced a shock of our own. The police were waiting there to tell us that we had to go to a campsite, as you are not allowed to sleep in your automobile within the city limits of Amsterdam. Well, caught between a rock and a hard place we had no choice but to leave in the middle of the night and drive further outside of the city in search of a better place to park. After about 20 minutes of driving, I saw a run down looking road to nowhere veering off to the right that looked suitible enough to deploy the penthouse (our affectionate term for the retractable roof tent) without attracting too much attention. At this point we were left with few alternatives. We woke up in the morning to what we be the first of the days many surprises. As it turned out, the "abandoned road" from the night before actually led to an expansive gypsy squatting ground/trailer park. I woke up to see a full range of dubious looking people milling around as I brushed my teeth on the side of the road. Gutted trailers, and a burned out totaled car lined the road we were parked on. As we were packing up, some fellow Germans driving another VW bus stopped to tell us that if we planned to sleep here again we should pull further into the trailer park so as to not attract so much attention. Apparently there were a bunch of "unsavory characters" living here who we "didn't care to meet". I couldn't resist the chance to explore what I have to admit was probably the weirdest place I have ever woken up in my entire life. I took a chance and managed to snap some pictures to document the experience without attracting much in the way of unwanted attention. 
God I love that bus. Shown here with the retractable penthouse where Jonathan and I slept for two nights.
On the way back into town we were met with yet another surprise. The bus was running strangely, and by strangely I mean that it would stall out every time Sören tried to shift into 4th gear. Stress levels were running high after two days and nights of bumming around Amsterdam with unforseen consequences, especially once Sören declared that he and Jan could not afford to stay in Amsterdam any longer considering the shape of his vehicle. Jonathan and I were scheduled to fly out the next day, and it seemed that we would be left high and dry with no place to stay, and nowhere to put our stuff in meantime. Our party was effectively split between two competing dilemmas. We needed to ensure that we could catch our flight and find a place to sleep and they had figure out how to get back to Germany with nothing but a failing 27 year old Volkswagon Bus to help them do it. I for one couldn't fathom why Sören was so keen to leave when the Buli was obviously not road worthy, but I can also understand how he felt that it was his only option. After what seemed like an eternity we manged to make it back to our starting point, the parking lot where we had spent the previous night. I managed to talk Sören into staying there long enough to formulate a plan but I could not dissuade him from trying to leave Amsterdam. In the end it was decided that Jonathan and I would try to lock our things up at the train station and then spend the night in the airport terminal. With our future set I was finally able to relax to some degree despite the terrible pit than began to form in my stomach once I was confronted with the fact that I had less than 20 more minutes to spend with some of best friends in the world after going through so much together. Moments away from the station, Sören changed his mind and decided correctly that there was no way they could leave Amsterdam as the Buli strained onwards through the city. It was tempting to just carry out our side of the plan but Jonathan and I couldn't justify leaving our friends in the lurch. We spent the better part of three hours at our wits end trying to find some way to avoid the inevitable - that they would have to stay in Amsterdam another night. We helped them find a place to stay, and locked our things up in the station while the Buli lay prostrate on the side of the road halfway between downtown and their budget hotel. I can't deny feeling some degree of Schadenfreude at their situation because it allowed me to spend just a few more precious hours with these people I care so much about but in the end we still had to say our goodbyes. We had a last supper together and then parted ways at the Buli. I have no idea when I will see them again but there can be no disputing that we did in fact go out with a bang.
From left to right: Jan, me, and SörenIn the end, words and pictures cannot truly describe what we experienced in Amsterdam. This blog entry only scratches the surface of what our trip was really like. So much of what happened there will have to stay locked up in our memories and in our hearts. So many stories will have to remain untold, but one thing I can say for certain is that it was one of the best times of my life and I wouldn't have had it any other way. Thanks to everyone who made it possible, and for the record, they did manage to fix the Buli. It is currently safely at home in Lage, Germany.
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