Amsterdam: City of Friendship

How a solo trip turned not-so-solo.

Photo by Rob.

I visited Amsterdam, Netherlands from August 10-13, 2024.

Locals might tell you that Amsterdam is always rainy, windy, and grey (at least in the winter), but something must’ve been in the air because Amsterdam turned out to be some of the most fulfilling 3 days I’ve ever had. Nothing but fun, sun, and unexpected friendships.

I went as a solo traveller — no expectations — and, for the first time, didn’t spend a single day alone in a new city. Funny because I thought Amsterdam would be the loneliest leg of this summer’s Europe trip.

It so happened that a girl I met on the first day of b12 Berlin a month ago is an Amsterdam local, and she invited me to hit her up for a personal guided tour. So, I knew I had at least one friend in the vicinity.

We met for lunch at her favourite joint, d&a hummus bistro. But something strange occurred.

She seemed different.

Away from the sweaty realm of dance studios, she gave off a different aura, and I could sense she had a lot on her plate; it was pulling her mind in all directions. The same thing happened with friends in Berlin last year (Berlin: City of Loneliness).

I don’t blame her. b12 was a very compartmentalized program that allowed us to kick daily obligations for a while, but return to said life, and, boom — the work never ends.

We still had a great catch-up, I’d say, but I knew that’d be the last I saw of her this time.

So, taking my solo steps in stride again, I wandered leisurely down the Jordaan until the evening.

Streets of Amsterdam. Photo by Anonymous.

My hostel happened to have an in-house restaurant, so I sat myself down at a long, empty table in the otherwise lavishly decorated room.

I read the menu.

I talked to the waiter.

I asked, “Why is everything so fancy?”

Seriously. I couldn’t understand half the stuff on it.

After a great deal of Googling and opting for several small dishes instead, the lone girl at the table opposite rushed up to me and breathlessly asked if I was alone. I said yes.

“Do you want to share a meal?” She asked hopefully.

“Yeah!” I couldn’t believe my luck.

The two of us hit it off swimmingly. Amongst various topics, we bonded over that kind of loneliness unique to solo travellers and appreciated that we could acknowledge it in each other.

I shouted out to the waiter that I’d made a new friend and would be moving tables.

Alice generously pushed her shared plate toward me.

It turns out she’d noticed me since I sat down (as I did her, since I was admiring her reading a physical book) and had been texting her friend incessantly if she should ask me to dine with her or not.

Needless to say, we were both grateful she took the plunge.

That encounter turned into a 4-hour dinner. (Her friend later texted: “I love how you’re not responding anymore. Have fun with your new frienddddd~~~!”)

We said our goodbyes around 11 PM and made plans to meet again. Alice called a Bolt home. To my surprise, she wasn’t even staying at the hostel onsite. She’d come here solely for the restaurant, which made our encounter seem all the more fated.

But the connections didn’t stop there.

Patio season. Photo by Alice.

The next day, I was taking a solo morning to myself — Alice had gone to Utrecht — when I discovered the monumental façade of the Sea Palace, a floating Chinese restaurant on the River IJ. It was completely unexpected, right-in-your-face, and a little wack. I loved it. (The story is that this Sea Palace was a copy of the original one in Hong Kong. On its way to maintenance, the Hong Kong one sank, and Sea Palace Amsterdam became the sole bearer of its glory.)

After turning back from snapping photos, I found myself right in front of the OBA Oosterdok - Public Library. Well, ok. You can’t throw me a library and tell me not to go inside it.

I try to make it a point to visit the main library of each city (an itinerary only book lovers understand). The OBA is easily the coolest one I’ve been in so far. It’s huge, modern, and harbours an impressive array of workstations, media studios, a theatre, an entire kids’ floor, a café (where I found free discount minicards like in hostels!), and a whole restaurant/cafeteria top floor. For some reason, the library was almost empty.

The top floor opens onto a terrace with an amazing view of the city, and it was here that fate played its cards again.

I was hunched over by the glass, sneaking a view, when I turned around to make eye contact with a smiling face by a laptop.

I smiled back politely and was about to leave when—

“I like your bag,” He complimented.

I looked down. It was a tote bag given to all the participants of b12, with their slogan, “Research or die,” printed on it. He thought it was funny.

I didn’t want to give up this opportunity to talk to someone either, so I asked to sit down, and he immediately shut his laptop to give me his full attention.

We settled into comfortable conversation.

I didn’t mind foregoing my itinerary, but as luck would have it, Rob recommended I see Vondelpark, which was in my plan anyway, so of course I roped him into every other attraction as well. :P

He was a local with nothing to do that day. Personal guide? Check.

Amsterdam at night. Photo by Lonely Girl, Lonely World.

We hit up NEMO Science Museum, the National Opera & Ballet (which, according to our canal cruise tour guide, was voted the Ugliest Building in Amsterdam for 7 years straight), Foodhallen, and Vondelpark. We rode the scenic Tram 2 line back to the city centre. We streamed through the bustling Red Light District, with its surprisingly huge number of Chinese restaurants.

Around 9 PM, Rob announced, “Now is the time to take a cruise!”

But first we circled back to the Red Light District for strawberries-on-a-stick and a white chocolate Oreo waffle from one of the many dessert shops there (the waffle had definitely been sitting there for days).

Good thing we did because by the time we got back (10 PM), everyone else had left, and we got a private cruise, where I — *shhhhh* — may have convinced them to let me steer the boat.

Amsterdam by night is a different current. Trust the cruise guide who didn’t like the city when she first moved there but fell in love with it after she saw it at night.

I’ve noticed that the people of Amsterdam seem very relaxed, if the image of them eating under sun umbrellas turned inside out from the gales was any indication. Something about living by the water does that.

I got a taste of the lifestyle myself when, the next day, my two new friends and I all met up for a day of unprecedented chill.

We headed first to the A’DAM Lookout to face our fears with Over the Edge, a steel-enforced swing that carries you literally over the edge of the skyscraper it’s located on.

Photo by Alice.

Fear not. It’s actually very tame. There’s no shaking, no increasing arcs. You swing leisurely with a partner for 1 minute, enjoying the sky-high view, and then they bring you down. I had the opportunity to go twice, since we were a group of 3, and they allow 1 person to go again with the 3rd.

The rest of our time on the Lookout was spent lying on some huge beanbags strewn around and talking about nothing in particular. It was scorching. A random girl dozed peacefully in the shade of a potted plant. That 26-EUR entrance fee proved more than worth it for a tourist attraction.

We moved to a nearby patio to play some cards over karaage, and though I wasn’t trekking the city like I usually do as a traveller, I felt content and happy. Amsterdam came to me this time.

Some hangry hours later, we capped it off with late-night ramen and charcoal green tea ice cream.

There are certain farewells that feel like forever, like you won’t ever see the people again. But I knew I’d see Alice and Rob again. Some friendships are just that, built on intuition.

Amsterdam in the summer is beautiful, and the locals know it. They take pride in their city of water and petals (pun intended).

Rob, by the way, is the one who keeps telling me Amsterdam is always rainy, windy, and grey, but I think A’dam made an extra effort to prove him wrong those days.

Those peaceful, sunny, dog days.

Photo by Lonely Girl, Lonely World.