Don't misunderstand the Netherlands. They have a lot of rules, just different ones.
If you want to get hammered at 10 in the morning, you can certainly do so. Just don't try to order a beer at 9. Sadly, Amsterdam has shut down most of the little local night bars, and concentrated the remaining ones into a sort of playground for drunk British youth. I avoided the Leidseplein in the wee hours of the morning for that reason.
You may have heard that the Dutch like to make a buck and give good value for money. You will find this mostly accurate, but not always.
While smoking in Kadinsky coffeeshop, I was thinking about the way people learn languages, and decided that I'd like to buy a children's book in order to see if I could access the part of my brain that learns languages easily. The old man behind the counter probably noticed me as I sauntered out of the doorway, stuffing my grinder into my pocket, because he greeted me with a look of skepticism as I entered the shop. "That's okay," I thought, "If I know anything it's people who love books. I'll win him over for sure." I proceeded with the sort of casual conversation which generally appeals to people, including Dutch people and book people. "Lovely shop," and then, a little later, "I'd like to find a children's book in Dutch, or possibly a book in fairly simple Dutch on a subject that I know well, in order to improve my understanding of the language."
He barely responded, which I found a little unusual. He didn't suggest any books, which I found unusual. I pointed out a couple of books which looked interesting, including one by Paramahansa Yogananda which turned out to be written in German. None of them fit what I wanted, and the old man only offered to assist me by giving me directions to a shop which specializes in children's books. I left, walked much farther than I wanted to, and failed to find the shop. But I wasn't about to give up that easily. I couldn't believe that the shop didn't have any children's books and couldn't accept that the old man didn't want to sell me anything.
Another day, I saw a different person working behind the counter. I found it surprising that he lit up a cigar, but not bothersome. I picked out a couple of cool-looking prints from the display outside, and set them on the counter, saying "Nice shop, I'd like to look around." It took me only a few minutes to find a children's book in Dutch, since I'd looked through half the shop on my previous visit. I called him over, and he unlocked the glass case and showed me the beautiful plates. When I asked the price, he looked inside the front cover and sort of half-smiling said, "Well, it's either 30 Euros or 300..."
"I'll take it for 30," I replied and we both grinned.
He said he needed to call the old man, and I looked around while waiting. The price was 30, and I was evidently his only sale of the day. While he rang me up, I mentioned the store where I couldn't buy anything. He expressed surprise, and when I had my purchase firmly in hand, I revealed that it was the other guy behind the same counter. "So, you might not want to mention this to him."
In the case of his boss, he seemed to accept the story, and replied "I don't want him to get angry at me: 'I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU SOLD HIM A BOOK!'"
Another story here
If you want to get hammered at 10 in the morning, you can certainly do so. Just don't try to order a beer at 9. Sadly, Amsterdam has shut down most of the little local night bars, and concentrated the remaining ones into a sort of playground for drunk British youth. I avoided the Leidseplein in the wee hours of the morning for that reason.
You may have heard that the Dutch like to make a buck and give good value for money. You will find this mostly accurate, but not always.
While smoking in Kadinsky coffeeshop, I was thinking about the way people learn languages, and decided that I'd like to buy a children's book in order to see if I could access the part of my brain that learns languages easily. The old man behind the counter probably noticed me as I sauntered out of the doorway, stuffing my grinder into my pocket, because he greeted me with a look of skepticism as I entered the shop. "That's okay," I thought, "If I know anything it's people who love books. I'll win him over for sure." I proceeded with the sort of casual conversation which generally appeals to people, including Dutch people and book people. "Lovely shop," and then, a little later, "I'd like to find a children's book in Dutch, or possibly a book in fairly simple Dutch on a subject that I know well, in order to improve my understanding of the language."
He barely responded, which I found a little unusual. He didn't suggest any books, which I found unusual. I pointed out a couple of books which looked interesting, including one by Paramahansa Yogananda which turned out to be written in German. None of them fit what I wanted, and the old man only offered to assist me by giving me directions to a shop which specializes in children's books. I left, walked much farther than I wanted to, and failed to find the shop. But I wasn't about to give up that easily. I couldn't believe that the shop didn't have any children's books and couldn't accept that the old man didn't want to sell me anything.
Another day, I saw a different person working behind the counter. I found it surprising that he lit up a cigar, but not bothersome. I picked out a couple of cool-looking prints from the display outside, and set them on the counter, saying "Nice shop, I'd like to look around." It took me only a few minutes to find a children's book in Dutch, since I'd looked through half the shop on my previous visit. I called him over, and he unlocked the glass case and showed me the beautiful plates. When I asked the price, he looked inside the front cover and sort of half-smiling said, "Well, it's either 30 Euros or 300..."
"I'll take it for 30," I replied and we both grinned.
He said he needed to call the old man, and I looked around while waiting. The price was 30, and I was evidently his only sale of the day. While he rang me up, I mentioned the store where I couldn't buy anything. He expressed surprise, and when I had my purchase firmly in hand, I revealed that it was the other guy behind the same counter. "So, you might not want to mention this to him."
In the case of his boss, he seemed to accept the story, and replied "I don't want him to get angry at me: 'I CAN'T BELIEVE YOU SOLD HIM A BOOK!'"
Another story here