Travel
Amiable Amsterdam
You gotta love a city where municipal employees hand tourists a welcome brochure from the police cheerfully outlining the dos and don’ts of prostitution, drug use, and public peeing. About prostitution, they non-judgmentally advise: “If you visit one of the women, we would like to remind you, they are not always women.” How troubling is THAT to your average drunk straight boy not counting on girls with “something extra”!
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True to its reputation, Amsterdam is the place to abandon inhibitions—if you can’t do it here, honey, you can’t do it anywhere. It’s hard to imagine a more tourist-friendly foreign environment. The city is compact and highly walkable; everyone speaks English; fine restaurants and museums abound. As for the gay tourist, in addition to laissez faire attitudes about sex, gay establishments are sprinkled like fairy dust throughout the city, and—this just in!—the Netherlands now has genuine gay marriage (THEY’RE not afraid of the ’M’ word).
Window shopping has a whole new meaning
Though residents think of Amsterdam as a village, orienting yourself can be confusing. The arrangement of the major canals in concentric rings is helpful only if you remember along which canal you’re walking and in which direction you’re headed. Adding to the confusion are myriad distractions along the way. Look, a rollerskating man in a gold lamT thong! Look, a pack of plastered Brits! Look, a “woman” in her panties tapping on the window! Look, I’m going to get run over because I’m a dimwitted tourist standing slack-jawed on the bike path!
The rosily lit girls behind glass are, of course, in the infamous Red Light District, a must-walk-through even if, for most queer folks, the area holds mainly anthropological interest. Progressive as Amsterdam is, openly male prostitutes are hidden behind brothel doors. Lesbian sex interests are typically ill-considered.
Don’t fall in the canals!
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By all accounts, it’s highly unpleasant and thus crucial to remember when your lover tells you to back up just a smidgen more for that Kodak-moment on the Homomonument. HOMOMONUMENT!—we aren’t in Kansas anymore. You’ll find the pink stone triangular tribute jutting into the Keizersgracht (Emperor’s Canal) at Westermarkt. There, too, is the Pink Point of Presence, a.k.a. “PPP,” an appropriately hued gay & lesbian info/souvenir-kiosk.
Once you’ve got your bearings—a boat tour helps—you’ll find strolling Amsterdam eminently enjoyable. Carry umbrellas and wander the quiet streets along with the lively ones. After dark, the bridges reflected in the stilled waters of the canals are irresistibly romantic.
Eat, drink and be merry!
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You know you’re in a gay capital when discussion of bars alone could fill an article. Where to begin? —leather bars, yuppie bars, lesbian bars, neighborhood bars, hustler bars, escort bars, discos, kink parties… the mind boggles.
Conveniently, bars of one type tend to be clustered together, so you can pick your evening outfit, hit the appropriate street, and flit door to door. For instance, along Warmoesstraat, you’ll find Cockring, Argos, Club Jacques, Dirty Dicks, Eagle, and Stablemaster, all leatherish establishments ranging from sleazy to sleazier. Cockring is highly popular, especially on weekends, when both the dance floor downstairs and the furnace-like darkroom upstairs fill to capacity.
For a more pretty-boy-posing upscale environment (reflective surfaces figure prominently in the decor), head for Reguliersdwarsstraat. Havana and April—with its Dramamine-please! rotating back bar—are hot spots early in the evening. ’Round midnight Soho is packed to its mirrored gills; order two beers and the bouncy bartenders hand you four, greeting your surprised expression with “Happy Hour!” On weekends, Exit is crowded with a youngish but diverse group gyrating beneath showy club lighting. (Watch your step if you ascend to the treacherously candlelit darkroom.)
While it’s mostly men in the yuppie bars, women wouldn’t feel entirely out of place (as they would, say, at Cockring). Saarein and Vivelavie, on the other hand, cater primarily to women. Tuesday is girl night at Getto, and there are women-only disco nights at COC and You II.
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For an authentically Dutch, camp-spiked extravaganza, fall in with (or to) the locals at the cozy Amstel Taveerne. Sunday evening sing-alongs are especially jolly—practice yodeling and shouting out “Heidi!” before you go. Macho Macho is an even cozier hangout for macho women and decidedly non-macho men with alcoholic tendencies (patrons appear permanently affixed to their barstools). Queen’s Head—with its little dog mascot, Billy Doll collection, and spinning red polka-dot illumination—has a butch/femme ’70s aura. The back table has fab canal views.
Our hustler bar research expedition was cut short when a pear-shaped man in pear-yellow polyester mistook me for a “working” boy. Those looking for working boys do have several well-advertised options. Those looking for working-it boys can find them towel-wrapped and roaming over several steamy levels at Thermos Day (a warming diversion on a rainy afternoon!) or Thermos Night (likewise in the wee hours).
The greatest dining complication in Amsterdam is choosing among ethnicities. Definitely have a meal at one of the “Rijsttafel” (Rice Table) restaurants, where countless mildly-to-wildly spicy Indonesian dishes arrive in little bowls. Our favorite was the friendly, tastefully appointed Tempo Doeloe. We noted a number of female couples (some arm wrestling!) at the bustlingly authentic Spanish restaurant Centra. Bird is a gay-friendly Thai place a stone’s throw from the Queen’s Head. Casa di David has delectable Italian treats, waiters included. For a splurge, give yourself over to De Boemerang. Don’t expect menus; do expect endless courses and an unforgettably decadent evening. On the way to or from Museumplein, lunch at the gay South African restaurant Pygma-Lion which features delicious bread, inventive salads, and—for the adventurous—crocodile, zebra, ostrich, and gazelle.
Have your space cake and eat it, too!
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When mellowing out is in order, you can smoke more than tobacco and munch cakes Little Debbie never dreamed of inside one of Amsterdam’s many “coffee shops” (there’s actually coffee, too, if you want a multi-directional buzz). Those whose Cheech & Chong days are in the past might feel less intimidated at a tourist joint (no pun intended) like Smokey on neon-drenched Rembrandtplein. Once your eyes have adjusted to the cavernous interior, ask if former Vermonter Miki is working, and say ’hi’ for us.
This ain’t the Smithsonian
The famous museums—Rijksmuseum, van Gogh Museum, Anne Frankhuis—are covered in any guidebook, so I’ll ignore them but extend a warning: People allergic to brazen heterosexual PDAs (of the pre-Personal Digital Assistant variety) may be subject to sneezing fits throughout the van Gogh Museum. Since van Gogh’s romantic life was less than stellar, I can only imagine that sunflower renderings make straight people uncontrollably horny.
Speaking of which, don’t miss the Sexmuseum. Even more eye-opening than the pansexual visuals are the accompanying texts: Am I the last to know, for instance, that Americans invented anal sex, that women most prefer sex with animals, or that lesbians tend to have the kinkiest sex?
Less titillating, perhaps, but equally engrossing is the marvelously interactive Amsterdam Historical Museum. Save energy for the culminating exhibit, a memorabilia-crammed recreation of ’t Mandje (its exterior is preserved on Zeedijk), one of the first bars to serve as a gay/lesbian gathering place. Its charismatic lesbian owner, Bet, held court until her death in the ’70s. Her surviving sister shares colorful anecdotes of Bet’s life (such as why snipped-off neckties dangle overhead) from a TV behind the bar.
If only we were lesbians!
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For the Dutch, biking is like breathing. Parents ride with newborns strapped casually to their chests, as if inadvertently vaulting over the handlebars were utterly impossible. Indeed, Holland is designed for cycling, even if a voluminous thorn bush proved that I am not (fortunately, no small children were attached to my body). Those willing to brave bush and bus, however, will be rewarded with the intimately lovely Dutch countryside. In the moments we were actually above sea-level, how we longed to be lesbians just to declare ourselves dykes on bikes on dikes!
One last tip
You know that little herbal doggie-bag you long to slip into your suitcase? Don’t. The rest of the world is, alas, not Amsterdam.
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Gay Amsterdam On-Line: Gay Tourist Guide (including Accomodations): "Simply Amsterdam" Gay & Lesbian Info: Gay & Lesbian Studies Amsterdam: Gay & Lesbian Bookstores: |