Turns out that opting out of Amsterdam doesn’t necessary mean that the Amsterdam experience isn’t going to find one way or another to hunt you down and leave an imprint on you. For me, it all started when I made the unfortunate decision to close my eyes for a split second while everyone else was getting ready for dinner and I ended up falling asleep. I wasn’t overly fussed that I missed dinner but I had slept for long enough to miss the canal cruise I had booked for that evening. As there’s really no way to chase down a boat winding its way through the canals of Amsterdam, I decided to pop into the shower and change into my beloved pink pajamas before calling it an early night.
Just as I was climbing back into bed, 2 of the girls I was sharing my room with returned. We stayed up talking about life, love, and everything else in-between when suddenly a very messed up Aussie came barging in. Have no fear, she wasn’t a stranger but someone on our tour and unfortunately, assigned to our room. As she peeled her clothes off, she mumbled nonsense at us while attempting to climb onto the top bunk. The girls and I decided that the last thing we needed was her falling off and creating a blood bath and so we shoved her mattress onto the floor. As quickly as we got it down, she collapsed on it and passed out. With certainty, we knew our room wasn’t going to be a vomit free zone and so we decided the safest thing to do was pack all our belongings as quickly as possible to ensure that they remained puke free. This activity was quickly interrupted by a gurgling noise from the passed out person in the room. When it happened a second time, we looked over at her and watched as she vomited on her pillow while passed out cold.
The three of us looked around at each other as to say WTF and then we realized that this was just the beginning of the hurling drama ahead of us this fine night. After a quick discussion, we decided to try to wake her and get her into an upright position. The waking part was an EPIC FAIL but what we did managed to do was get her upright and her head into a bin. The spewing was out of control and accompanied by a little wind being passed. One of the girls that was keeping her upright starting gagging at the smells and sounds. GROSS doesn’t even begin to cover what happened that night! Trust me, it was BAD. At this stage, we didn’t know what to do so the other 2 girls released me from the bin holding/puke wiping duties in order to get help. I raced down to reception and told them that there was a girl in our room that was going to die just like Jimi Hendrix. They calmly told me that there was nothing that they could do and if we took her to the hospital, they’d won’t admit anyone who is drunk and/or stoned. Just encase they missed my earlier point, I screamed back, “just like Jimi Hendrix!” Again, I was ignored and told to try to wake her or get her into the toilet and leave her there. Obviously these 2 men seemed to miss my point that Jimi Hendrix DIED! As I stood and looked at them completed baffled, I was met by other people on our tour who followed me back to our room. It was at the elevator that we discovered sheets and pillows covered in vomit. Yes, these came from my room and as we re-entered, the girls told us that there couldn’t be much left in her system after the volume they’d seen come out. At this point, our fearless tour leader tried waking up the passed out Aussie with a gentle love tap (aka hard slap across the face) and told us to get ours in while we still could. Weirdly enough, the Aussie girl remained passed out through all of this.
Exhausted, we all retired for the night hoping that the worst was behind us. I left Amsterdam with a trail of regrets. I wish I hadn’t come back early during the day or sat on my bed before dinner or closed my eyes every so briefly. If none of these things happened then I would have been on that cruise and out that night and would have avoided the vomit disaster. Coulda, woulda, shoulda – I guess…