I would love to title this "The Flying Dutchman"- Is that wrong?

After losing mounds of sleep in lieu of working 11-19 hour days without a single day off, many people need sleep. Sounds logical, right? So many people take a week off, sleep 12 hours a night, spend the rest of the time in their pajamas, watching movies on the sofa, or even going to a spa to recoup.

That's nice for them. I operate somewhat differently.

After working for 2 months straight, I didn't need sleep, I needed fun. I needed to feel alive. So right after the exhibition ended, I flew to Amsterdam (my first voyage out of the country!) to meet up with my friend Mark and a few of his Australian buddies from back home.

Maybe I just hadn't seen anything but my computer screen for too long, but looking out of the airplane window, the view of Amsterdam from above was breathtaking. This photo doesn't do it justice, but the orange sky matched with the jewel toned city below? Gorgeous.

That first night, I went out with the Aussies for a night on the town. Much needed!

We went to a Spanish shots bar. Oy vey. Not very Dutch, fairly touristy, but I guess that's what you get when you travel with Aussies! Just kidding guys! Nothing but love!

After 12 too many shots, mostly bought for us by this clingy Russian/German fellow who followed us from the hostel (thank you for the shots?) I danced too much, said things I may have regretted in the morning (I perhaps told the very generous Russian/German fellow that his English was "abominable"... as if my German is even nearly as good. Ugh. I can be so rude!), and snapped a photo I'm very proud of

I feel I really captured the essence of an Amsterdam canal at night. Just me?

Of course, I had to take a shot of a legal marijuana transaction. This wasn't mine! I swear! Someone let me take this shot, and swore me to keep their identity anonymous! Who does drugs? I don't do drugs. Pshh.

Still a very exciting and rather cliche thing, although coming from California, I can't say this is really as novel to me as it may be to others.

We went to this terrific photography museum -FOAM. I nerd-ed out about a lot of the exhibition layout, the architecture (I don't think I took a picture, but there was one room in particular that had a really great lofted space and interesting diffused daylighting), and then we played in mountains of photographs...

One of my new favorite Aussies, Jimmy, turned out to be an incredible musician -guitarist, singer/songwriter -so about 50% of our time there was spent jamming. Jimmy and I swore we would do some sort of online collaboration. It hasn't happened yet... so much for follow through.

This is Jimmy playing during what came to be known as "Bed Beers Time". The name really says it all, but a brief further explanation: After walking around the city all day in a bit of a dreamy haze, 5-6 pm tends to bring with it the dire need for a rest. Having only a sardine-packed hostel room to return to, we would all sit on our beds, drink a few beers, nap, and play music. A bit of a waste of travel time, for sure, but definitely a tradition I could have gotten used to.

We also played in the park:

And outside of Amsterdam's most touristy destination:

My friend Thomas made a list of great places to go in Amsterdam. Sadly, we didn't make it to many places (as you will see in a few photos, the Aussies favored an Australian bar that didn't make Thomas' list, rather than some more authentic pubs and clubs. I wasn't so pleased, but I didn't put up a fight either.), but we did make it to Cafe Belgique. For the first time in months I got a taste of some delicious Belgian ales (my favorite!) for a fraction of the price I'm used to paying back home. Score!

Some man hustled us to pay 5 euro for a polaroid shot of our group.

We were apparently suckers. But it's a pretty cute shot!

The next night, after Jimmy and Rob left, Mark and I somehow ended up back at the Aussie bar (damn!), but there happened to be a Karaoke contest that night. Mark entered me (oy vey) but... I ended up winning! woo! I got some sort of bar tab, and definitely the affection of the bar.

The next day, Mark left, and for the first time in my life, I was in a foreign city all by myself. *Cue Eric Carmen's "All By Myself"*

But there was nothing awkward, scary, or lonely about it. It was perfect! I got to just wander and explore -no plans, no explanations, no one to approve what I wanted to do except for me- and I had the best time!

I wandered past Paradiso, a music venue, hoping that there would be a cool show for me to see. There was a giant line outside for the night's Hansen concert. Uh, wha? Hansen is still around? And popular? Weird.

I passed tons of canals, and a cute eatery I returned to for breakfast the next day.

I then decided to do the one thing that the average human dreads: go out to eat alone. I promised myself I wouldn't even take a book and read. I just wanted to take myself out, indulge, people watch, and ponder why it's such a social taboo to be caught in a busy restaurant alone.

I sought out a sushi place. Back home, I eat sushi so often, I'm likely single-handedly responsible for the raping of the world's oceans. It's my favorite food by far. But in Copenhagen? It's outrageously expensive. So I treated myself! I found an all-you-can-eat restaurant, where you order as much as you possibly can eat in 2 hours (gluttony!). The place was jam packed. I was intimidated. It was perfect.

They sat me at the sushi bar next to another woman who was eating alone. Being the social butterfly I am, I made a couple of small conversational gestures to her (ugh. so much for a silent meal alone!) and soon enough we were gabbing and gorging together. This woman was just a year older than me, 23, half Dutch, half Dominican, and even though her boyfriend kept calling her throughout the meal, asking when she would be done so they could hang out, she was electing to get the most out of her alone time (well, I guess I intruded on that... but she intruded on mine too!). She explained that this was a tradition of hers. Ever since she got into a life-threatening car accident a couple of years ago, she made a vow to do something exciting for herself everyday. She had woken up that day with a craving for sushi, and said "I'm taking me out tonight!" And before I got there, she had sat there for an hour, contentedly by herself, ordering more than anyone else in the joint. She got stares, certainly, but she didn't care.

It was absolutely wild. I have to say, I've been known to be a little piggy when it comes to sushi, but this girl had me beat! She ordered one of everything on the menu, even two of some things. This is a photo of her final order before they cut her off (some items missing -already consumed). She ordered, after already stuffed to the brim, 4 more pieces of nigiri, a sashimi boat, and 4 orders of black sesame ice cream (which was a first for me, and mighty delicious! Although, I stuck to my traditional green tea when it came time for dessert). I met my match!

Even after we both finished, we sat at the bar sharing some iced tea, just chatting. She was one of the most wise young people I've ever met, with such a unique world view and life philosophy. Such an inspiration! We didn't exchange information or anything when we parted ways. And that was perfect. It was just a chance meeting with a complete stranger, with whom I shared a massive love of sushi and some great conversation. And that's what's great about traveling alone. You open yourself up to unexpected experiences and the ability to meet people you otherwise wouldn't if you were out with someone else.

I was invited out to go meet some hilarious Irishmen I had met the night before, but I decided to keep wondering on by myself. I was really enjoying it. I met the Irishmen the next night, before heading off to the airport, for a pint of Guinness, so I didn't totally flake. But I'm glad I decided to just take the evening for myself. It opened me up to another cool first experience...

On the way back to my hostel I got a little lost (thanks, Mom, for passing on the trait of being directionally challenged!), so I asked a nice older couple, passing by on bikes, for directions. When I told them where I was headed, the man said "Well, we're headed there. Do you want a ride?" I have never ever ridden on the back of a bicycle before. It's always looked a bit treacherous, especially in a crazy city where no one follows traffic laws, and the chance of swerving into a car is high. But still, I said "why not!". So I got a tour through the city on the back of this old Dutchman's bike, while I sighed and said to myself "ahhhh, Europe. You're so good to me!"

It was pretty epic. Definitely one of the best nights of my life.

The next morning, I walked back to that cute eatery and had the best crepe of my life. So crispy! So cheesy (mmmmm gouda! from the source!)! So salty! And I sat outside, watching people walk by, from my seat overlooking a beautiful canal.

While looking through some street art thereafter, the same clingy Russian/German guy from our hostel found me. Oy. He then proceeded to follow me around for a while. He was nice enough, sure. But I just didn't want company. I was thoroughly enjoying my time alone. And he kept suggesting places for us to go, told us we should get in a cab and go here, a train and go there... So I turned to him, and as nicely as one can possibly say it, I said "listen, you're great company, but I never take time to just be alone, and I'm really interested in just wandering around a bit, without plans, without an agenda. Is that ok?" He took the hint, and left. I felt a bit bad, but I wanted what I wanted, and my alone time is sacred!

This photo will only be relevant to a select few. But to those few Summer Heights High fans, "Puck you, miss! Puck wid a 'P'!"

I found a farmer's market, and made a bee-line for the cheese stand. mmmmmm! My second favorite food! I bought a massive piece of the best aged gouda I've ever had in my life. I'm salivating just thinking about it, which is a bit torturous considering I've given up cheese for the month of January (I have a real cheese problem, and I'm trying to regain good health and rid myself of many of my vices this month -and hopefully for long past this month -although I'm sure the cheese will make a strong comeback in February. I really miss it already. A life without cheese is far less delicious).

I hustled to try and find the Anne Frank house before I had to leave, but by the time I got there, the queue was massive, and there wasn't enough time to wait and also go in before I had to catch my flight.

Amsterdam, between musical Aussies, delicious cheese, city tours on the back of bikes, and lessons learned in solo-travel, I have to say you treated me mighty fine. I'll be back, certainly. If for nothing more than to try more of your cheeses (damn, I miss cheese!).