Later for dinner we stopped at a small place near our hostel. Bacon and cheese pancakes were for me, while Shelman went with the more conservative choice, a “Queen Burger”—two burnt beef patties stuck together between a burnt bun; no more, no less. Mediocre-at-best comes to mind when trying to describe the taste (or lack there of?) of the “Queen Burger.” The bacon on my pancakes, on the other hand, was some of the best bacon I’ve ever had—what it was doing on a pancake I haven’t a clue. In my opinion, bacon and pancakes are best left to their own.
That night we went out on a pub-crawl where we met two smoke sisters from Australia (sweet). We also hung out with a bunch of soccer hooligans from Wales, and an Irishman, Mark, who talked more about gaelic football than I could shake a stick at. We ended up a sweet club called Homes where some guy took the picture below (like thanks for the pic, but a Polaroid? Might as well watch Space Jam on VHS and get the soundtrack on cassette [great soundtrack, btw])
Pictures: A little devil car some crazy dude was driving while talking to his fist, Us having a snack on the canal with our bikes and mango juice, Vondlepark, Us at the I AMSTERDAM sign)
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