Red Light in the a.m.

Since we weren’t in the Red Light long enough yesterday to so much catch a glimpse of the neighborhood’s telltale landmark (live hookers in storefronts), we decided to make a pass through the area on our way to the train station. Sure enough, even at 11 a.m. there were several ladies (all heavy set, dark-haired and dark-skinned) as well as a few windows sporting the closed curtain that signifies that the room is in use. It seemed like pretty cramped office space - approximately 100 square feet of space behind the glass door where a single bed could be seen, a sink (in one, the tenant was brushing her teeth) and in another, there was a stool occupied by a really cracked out-looking woman who looked about 65 (but it could have just been the effects of hard drugs), plopped down in a distinctly unsexy position with eyes cast into a half-lidded, thousand yard stare. Dragging our suitcases loudly over the cobblestones, we caught all this through sidelong glances as we walked by like the other passing tourists who were pretending not to look.

Then it was onto Utrecht, another beautiful, canal-crossed city (the fourth largest in The Netherlands), where we had lunch before catching a second train to Amersfoort, where our bike tour begins tomorrow. Our hotel is rather provincial – but friendly –and the old town center is around the corner, entered under a  medieval brick gate house and archway.  Inexplicably, everything is closed here on Mondays save a few restaurants, one of which was poppin’ with a big crowd of locals. This was our spot, bearing yet another name we couldn’t pronounce with an odd but ever-present “j” following every vowel. I got a prawn appetizer and seafood soup with saffron and M got a massive burger. Everything had too much sauce but the beer was tasty. It’s pouring rain now, hopefully bleeding the sky as much as possible before we hit the road tomorrow.