CITY OF PRETTY The Royal WE

When Kate and Wills were saying their ‘I do’s in London town, I said yes to Amsterdam. To avoid the royal wedding mania, I gladly accepted my good friend Flea’s invitation to partake in a different kind of royal affair – Queen Beatrice of Holland’s birthday. Every year the Dutch celebrate their matriarch’s birthday with an event called Queen’s Day. On this day the Queen grants everyone trading rights, and the locals set up stalls in front of their houses to pawn off accumulated crap, clothes, booze, weed, and more crap. Amsterdam becomes party slash bargain city! It’s the Milnerton Market, in Long Street, on pure grade pills, x1000. With two million people.

Off I go, booking my ticket at the last minute, and then missing my flight out of Stansted due to an American toothpaste casting in the morning. Another 50 quid and I am on the next flight. I arrive at Shiphol airport to be greeted by the sweet scent of marijuana. Okay – maybe just a bit of wishful thinking in anticipation of what’s to come, but I swear that this one smells like hydroponics rather than the usual generic perfume waft of airport halls. I assume it must be the hoards of American gap year kids who checked in straight from the coffee shop. I take a train into the centre. Brett from Cape Town picks me up. We stroll along the canals and I am flabbergasted by how beautiful Amsterdam is. It reminds me of Florence, and is a close contender for most picturesque city, though Cape Town always comes out tops. The circular layout of streets running along canals maps out our jungle gym for the next three days.

Flea arrives the following evening and we meet at the apartment of our friends, a lively couple from Cape Town. We christen the weekend with Proscecco, and then head out to catch a glimpse of Amsterdam’s nightlife. The streets are already bursting at the seams, even the night before the big day. Somehow we find ourselves amidst a moshpit in the street, when suddenly a panicked lost car accelerates through the crowds, aggravating raging kids on pills just looking to fuck shit up. They start chasing the car and throwing beer cans. When one of those hits my head, we think it best to go home and rest up for tomorrow. The pace is determined.

Our hosts are a part of an eclectic and inspiring clique of artists, illustrators and inventors who have made Amsterdam their asylum. Amongst these are Lucy McRae, who has created architectural body gear for Robyn’s music video ‘Indestructible’, and the founders of Champagne Valentine whose clients include Diesel and the Tate Modern. We all meet as equals over a beer for breakfast, then we link arms like a human snake and start weaving our way through the density. The hideous lumo orange that the Dutch love so much evokes flashbacks of the World Cup in the Mother City. It is utter sensual harassment, and it is everywhere! To soothe my eyes, I throw myself into the bargains, picking up many beautiful keepsakes whilst spending a whopping 16 Euros.

After eight hours of fighting the crowds (and a full bladder – too many beers, 3 Euros for a public loo) we make our way to an old church to watch a free but exclusive show of Odd Future Wolf Gang Kill Them All, lead by rapper/producer Tyler the Creator. He is undoubtedly the freshest and most original hip hop talent to emerge since Eminem. Crowds chanting 'Wolf Gang’ throughout the gig, and a vicious mosh pit in front of the stage – the energy is immensely rock and roll. And I thought a bottle to the head was rough. The performance climaxes when everyone is asked onto the stage and bodies start diving off into the remaining crowd like dolphins. What an impeccable spectacle! Post-show we recruit our own wolf gang and head back to the house where there is more prosecco. The Queen has been toasted all right.

We leave Amsterdam with suitcases inflated fat with bargains and stroop waffles – those devilish things. I am still buzzing for the week to come (also from the sugar of the waffles) – Amsterdam is the most crazy, beautiful, inspiring and liberal place I have ever visited. Next year same time, but with an empty suitcase, and maybe some protective gear – like a helmet.

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CITY OF PRETTY Welcome to London