We woke up and drove from Amsterdam to Almere to meet Kiros.  He finished work at 5:30 and we headed straight back to camp Zeeberg in Amsterdam to dump our stuff and get ready for a night out.

After we were done watching Ajax get beat and having a few beers, we headed off in search of a rock club called Korsakoff.  After about an hour of wandering around looking for it, when we got there it hadn’t yet opened so we went in a blues/rock bar next door.  It was dark, dinghy, and I felt right at home.  The bar guy was quite intimidating though, he had a massive cigar hanging out of his mouth and through gritted teeth said “What’ll it be, punk?”.  Well, I think that’s what he said, but it was in Dutch, so I’m not sure.

After a few beers there we went into Korsakoff next door.  When we got there, there was a grand total of four customers, including the three of us.  This place was even darker and louder than the blues bar next door, and played a variety of dark rock and gothic music.  We didn’t stumble on these bars by accident by the way, we’d been through a series of cheap looking websites and got a tram away from the centre of Amsterdam to find them.

We sat at the bar and I ordered in some tequila slammers to get the night moving.  Everything was served in doubles too so this was a good maneouvre.  The DJ box was up a rickety ladder, so I got a pen from behind the bar, put my requests on the back of a beer mat, and got climbing.  The DJ was really cool, and I got most of my requests on, and even managed to warm the dance floor up a bit with a bit of help from a very drunk lady and Martyn.  A good night all round.

Since the trams had stopped, we had to walk all the way back to Central to get the night bus home.  I did my typical trick of drunkenly collecting high-fives, but some big dude seemed to take it quite badly and without speaking starting taking shots at me.  Since I’m a lover not a fighter (ahem), my natural reaction had taken over and I’d swiftly pegged it up the street before his first punch made contact.

We had a few smokes of Amsterdam’s finest and went to sleep.  Three sweaty dudes on a double air matress in a hot tent lead to quite a nasty smell in the morning, but it was well worth it.