And Outside The Rain Fell...

Amsterdam. And the night. A perfect tour guide. And mild rain. 5 guys and a girl. And the famous red lights.

Now Amsterdam's prime tourist hotspot, the Red Light District is famous for rows and rows of "windows" with scantily clad women doing business. Very little open solicitation, it was almost like you are walking surreally along street after street, bounded by Venice like canals on one side, and draped in red and ultraviolet light, colouring the world with lust, little passion and a lot of dope. Scores of men satisfying every concupiscence fantasy, but more than that, many more curious tourists, mostly couples, coming over to see what the fuss is all about. We were them. I was that.

Our fantastic tour guide knew everything about the street, notorious for offering something to every carnal desire. Apparently now completely standardized (can I use the word commodotized?), with strong unions and police protection, Amsterdam’s Red Light District had tax payers, was self governed and almost completely commoditized. All it invoked really was a curiosity. A giant museum gone wrong. The roads branched into several arterial roads, narrow roads with enough walking distance only for two, with the windows on both sides, many with their curtains down. Made more interesting with stories, titbits and the experience of others, this was Amsterdam, liberty and freedom at its finest. And craziest. Phew. Glad to get out of the streets. And glad I got down to write this. It is crazy. And I would never want to describe it the way I saw it here.