What if, instead of raindrops or even gumdrops, pot fell from the sky?

So, compadres, I apologize for not writing in several days. I know this has upset at least one person, although real or imaginary I have not decided, as no one has said a word about the sorry state of my blog. Thus, today includes not only an update, but will also include pictures...not my own...of things I did and saw over spring break. This is sort of like when the NY Times switched to color and everyone gasped, but a little less important and a lot less faux-traumatic.

As you know from my last entry, the travelling trio had arrived and begun to enjoy themselves quite well in Copenhagen. We went all over the city, seeing all of the sights (it is not big, but gorgeous), and most importantly, went to this area of town called Christiania or Christianhavn, where there was...get this...a pot market. No, folks, this is not Amsterdam we are talking about. We will get to that. No, friends, this is Denmark, where pot is still illegal. However, the cops turn a very blind eye to this area, and as you leave you even pass under a totem pole that says "Welcome to the EU." What sucked was that we went to early in the day and so no one was really selling too much so E Sel and I went and got some hash from this weird sorta homeless-ish guy. I also bought a little keychain pipe, and in the snow, that day, in the crisp, frozen air of the hippie market, I got high.Later that day we took said pipe and said hash to Roskilde, a town outside Copenhagen that used to be the most important Viking port. It was here that five viking ships were painstakingly excavated from the bottom of the fjord and brought to the surface where they were put in a museum in a way that made them look......a lot like boats that sank....a long ass time ago. But after, we found a cheap 69 kroner dinner (like 10 bucks, which for Copenhagen was amazing) and every time the waiter would leave the empty level of the restaurant we were sitting at, out whipped I the keychain pipe and we smoked, and we revelled in it.

The following day brought the weary band of travellers to the majorly metropolitan Berlin...and The Circus hostel, where we stayed. If I can take a step aside here, real quick, and make a shout out the owners of said hostel...because it fuckin rocks. There we met two Aussies, Justin and D. We hung out with them for our nights in Berlin and they are generally two of the nicest, funniest people I have had the fortune to meet on my travels...and Justin was cute...but straight. Either way, one night when I was sound asleep and the rest were out at a club, Justin and D, who had been rather flirtatious with some of the guys (cough), asked if they knew where to find pot, and lo-and-behold, I wake up to the news that marijuana has not only pushed its way into the circle hostel, but I am to be the joint roller for the evening. Well, what an honor, I must say it was, to roll weed for such kind and generous Aussies. Not just weed, though, this shit was amazing! We sat on our balcony...that's right we had a balcony...and smoked in the glory of Berlin.
On a non-pot but still Berlin related note, I feel I should also mention the other roomates. I cannot remember either of their names, but one lady was a wicked cool Italian filmmaker and the other was one of the eight million Japanese kids that roam around Europe. Also, in Berlin, we went to the Reichstag, a couple museums, the Berlin Wall, Checkpoint Charlie (fuck America), and several other places...but not as many as we could of because Diego was hungover. OHHHHH, I also bought some Birkenstocks in Germany....the transition to hippie is almost complete. After all, I just showered for the first time in five days.

Following Berlin, we were off to the city of dreams....AMSTERDAM! Readers, I cannot stress this enough to the pot-smoking faction of which I figure about half of you to be members, but you at some point in your life have to go to Amsterdam. YOU MUST! I went to at least 15 different "coffeeshops" while I was there, sampling the local "brews." The winner...hands down...Silver Haze from The Rokery (Winner of the cannabis cup for "Best Coffeehouse"). This was the perfect weed...no paranoia, no comedown, and it didn't even give me the munchies or make me tired. It was totally cerebral.

Again, trying to veer at least slightly from referencing once again my obvious addiction to MJ (and long blogs, can you tell), I feel I should mention the other key wonderful aspects of Amsterdam:
Think of it as Venice meets Dutch village...the city is filled with canals and so in that respect is like venice, but it has this beautiful Dutch architecture, with narrow buildings and fun little gables of all different shapes and sizes and colors (color me a homo). Also, the museum scene, I am told more than anything, was amazing but expensive. Pot...cheaper...so I stuck with that.

Amsterdam, of course, had it's downsides as well. Diego, poor lil' tyke, was walking back from a museum alone (because he is not such an addict as E Sel and I) at night, and he got mugged. The mugger was nice in the "I'll steal your cash but leave you the rest to pick up the pieces" sort of way, and from then on Diego just really didn't enjoy Amsterdam all that much.

All-in-all it feels pretty good to be back in Jolly Ol' London...for three days until I go to Paris. Yeah, I kinda suck, I know. I had an amazing time over spring break, but all amazing things must end...especially since I am broke now. Now, I know promised pictures, so I think I am just gonna stop here and add those in. Suffice it to say I had fun, I hope you all had fun, and I promise I will never write another blog this long again.