Jenny-fa has returned from Europe. About two days ago, in fact. I’m still somewhat severely jet-lagged, and my self-esteem recently took a blow when French aviation security personnel confiscated my sunscreen lotion. T_T (Waaaaaaaaaah, I was just trying to get back into my own country… what did you have to do that for???)
Countries visited (in chronological order): the Netherlands, Germany, Austria, Italy, Vatican City, Switzerland, and France. Yes, the Vatican City is its own, extremely tiny country; it’s completely enclosed in the city of Rome.
My favorite country by far was the Netherlands, aka Holland. The Dutch are the world’s healthiest and happiest (read: least depressed) people, and they have that famous Red Light District in Amsterdam, where I took a leisurely stroll one memorable afternoon. You know it’s one of the safest areas of the cities because there’s video survelliance on every corner and personal bodyguards for the prostitutes? Prostitution is completely legal there… they have their own union and even pay dues. Anyway, our group was walking through a very, very narrow alley (perhaps only 3 feet wide) with the prostitutes’ windows on each side (we could actually see them inside, scantily clad in glow-in-the-dark lingerie and wielding whips), and two of them slid their windows open and stood there, watching us tourists pass by. But right as I was about to walk past those two ladies, a young Dutch man coming from the opposite direction came to that exact point and was stopped by the prostitute on my right with the end of her whip, who said to him in English, “Stop. Playtime?”
Now, that was just plain alarming; those two were directly in front of me, practically in my face, and I couldn’t squeeze past around them… so, in my nervousness, I quickly ducked underneath the prostitute’s arm bearing the whip and made my escape between them.
However, I have resolved that the next time I visit Amsterdam, I’d say hi to one of them.
Did I enjoy my trip to Europe? Not entirely. As I predicted before, too much social interaction among my tour group. And I hated German food so much, I vowed I would forgo meat when I returned to the U.S., and now I’m a self-proclaimed lacto ovo vegetarian.