Day 37 - 28/8/11 - Saturday- Utrecht- Amsterdam

It may have taken 36 days, however finally the green mankini made an appearance. And no, it was not part of my travel suitcase, instead required attire for the buck. The buck wore nothing but a fake moustache, a genuine smile, and a green mankini, as he and friends spent their Saturday night bucks party in Amsterdam's Red Light district.

For those not familiar with the clothing attire known as the "mankini", it was made famous by Borat, and can only be described as a male equivalant of a risque bikini, that unfortunately leaves too little to the imaginitaion. There are strickly no photos in Amsterdams' red Light district, and luckily therefore we don't have a picture of the buck in his mankini.

Amsterdams Red Light district is world famous, notorious, and probably too much of a tourist attraction to ever be shut down in our lifetimes by any conservative politicians. Whilst prostitution exists in all major cities (and probably small towns too) it is slightly different in Amsterdam, where it is on display like supermarket aisles. There is perhaps 1,000 women in the precinct, an area that also contains a lot of bars, sex shops, sex shows, and nightclubs.

An ode to the Red Light district:
Walking the canal streets by day
'Sex shop' is what the sign does say
At night it is a different sight
Numerous women under the red light
People look and stare
For the women are nearly bare
To this precint the tourists flock
Some find it quick a shock
Women that look good and bad
Some observers find it quite sad
Plying their trade through the night
Only if the price is right
An arrangement that has proven its worth
For it is the oldest profession on earth

Waking up in Utrecht the first challenge was relocating our luggage down the almost vertical stairs. These stairs were not slightly dangerous, they were diabolical, and handling luggage up and down was a tricky task.
At the train station we soaked up the 'Old Town' part of Utrecht for our last time on this trip, and possibly the last time ever. A place that meant so much to dad, his birthplace and residence until 16 years of age. Cinthia and Glenys managed to shop and buy some souvenirs.

The train to Amsterdam was busy, and with our suitcases, difficult given there was not luggage space in the carriage. Upon arrival in Amsterdam a solid lining of grey clouds, a random pattern of street puddles, and a drizzling rain greated us. Although the rain was threatening to get heavier we soldeired on, deciding we didn't need a taxi to get the 1 km to the hotel.

Three days to explore Amsterdam.