Trust in Amsterdam
An impromptu weekend in Amsterdam reminded me that trust — in a new city, others, the universe, and myself — is the bedrock of everything we do.
Most of my solo trips are well planned with a deliberate intent for selecting the specific location. This trip to Amsterdam was not. One day in November, I opened up my JetBlue app and looked at the cheapest flights starting with "A.” Amsterdam won early. Before traveling, I didn't Google or ChatGPT anything at all. “What are you going to do in Amsterdam” people would ask me, the week of my flight. “I’m not really sure yet” I would return. My friends and some strangers at bars kindly added their recommendations to my notes app like it was Tripadvisor. I booked my hostel, one museum ticket and one soccer game in advance. Amsterdam reminded me that the foundation of our world is built on trust, and trusting yourself is more important than anything else.
What did I know about Amsterdam before boarding the seven-hour flight? Not much, honestly. Pretty sure they have canals and stuff. Probably parks and museums and cool shops and cafes serving Stroopwafel. The red light district is pretty universally known. There's a lot going on in Dutch politics and they’ve mastered wind energy. The country's flag is blue, white and red and inspired the NYC flag, which is naturally blue, white and orange. They really like the color orange in fact. My best friend got her masters at the University of Maasticht - which is decidedly not in Amsterdam - and got me a cute pen holder with tulips that says Holland. Tulip season is in the spring and I don't know why they call it the Netherlands now. Ajax FC play soccer at the Johann Cruyff Stadium and he was a total legend. Netherlands have had a few great World Cup runs recently and could do really well in 2026.
My mind was a blank slate ready for whatever would be to come.
Trust began early when I started chatting with the middle seater in my row upon our flight landing. Once the plane touched the tarmac it marked day one of her move to Amsterdam from Boston. She asked me how I was getting to my hostel, and like most elements of this trip, I responded that I hadn't thought much about that. She guided me to the train and before her stop added some more recommendations to my notes app, which now looked busier than expected. After dropping my bag off at the hostel, the iconic Hotel Bulldog, I stopped by the smoke filled “coffeeshop” downstairs for a reviving cup of Sabrina Carpenter’s favorite caffeinated beverage. My brain elected to abdicate its duties of directions so my feet took charge of aimlessly plodding around the narrow brick streets and my eyes took on look out duty for dangerous flying bikers. Pious cyclists in Amsterdam rank well above the pitiful pedestrians in the societal hierarchy of the streets. Do not trust them.
One of many scenic canal vistas.
The first of many delicious eggy omelettes from the trip.
One large omelette and some light shopping followed before Captain Feet took me to the University of Amsterdam. I stopped to peek into the courtyard through the vaunted stone arch entrance when a rush of students sprouted from behind. It was quite easy to fall in line with the the wave of students, backpacks slung over the shoulder of their peacoats, ashing their cigarette butts on old stone walls. Like a chameleon in the crowd, I copied their shuffle through the gorgeous courtyard, a spacious lobby, a hallway out of a 70s high school movie, until I found myself in front of two classroom doors. One had about 20 chairs. Far too risky. The next door opened to a large lecture hall, though the only open seats were in the front three rows. The slides were also in Dutch. I don’t speak Dutch. So I left, dropping out after minute four of my lifelong dream to graduate from this prestigious and esteemed university.
Amsterdam is a terrific city for a lots of activities but walking with headphones is not one of them. Bike bells ding and e-bikes and mopeds roar by pedestrians. Some intersections mimic Frogger with a two-lane of bikers, a lane of cars, a two-way lane of trams, another lane of cars, and you guessed it, another two-way lane of bikers. Keeping the AirPods in my bag and listening more intently to the sounds of the city kept me present. Seagulls and planes flew overhead while faint hums from boat motors drifted through canals. The shoes of passerbys speaking different languages made subtle sounds on the uneven brick streets and sidewalks. Amsterdam possesses a natural inclination for quietude, rare for a city, counter to the traveler's thirsting desire to describe cities as loud and vibrant (like Mexico City). It feels orderly and exudes a peaceful inertia. Less decibels each day made for a clearer head.
And in a brief ode to the canals, thank you canals of Amsterdam. You can find all you’re looking for in Amsterdam along the canals. This includes the Houseboat Museum which is nine euros and definitely worth it to see the inner mechanisms of these boats and the unique lifestyles they encompass. I found myself appreciating the city most when I walked along the canals and let my eyes and feet wander. There were all types of shops and gorgeous, tall and narrow canal houses to discover. Soundless streets made for pause and reflection. Cozy cafes and inviting bars to pop in to for a drink or a bite. All roads lead to Rome and most canals in Amsterdam eventually lead to Amsterdam Central station and the thriving hub around it full of people. Venice may hold the reputation and prestige as Europe’s famed canal city, but Amsterdam deserves its credit as a fellow canal enjoyer.
Of course when in Amsterdam I hit some of the important sites — like a meaningful morning stop to the Anne Frank House, spending hours in the Risjkmuseum, walking through Vondelpaark, and shopping at Museumplein — but along the canals I really got my fill. Many of the spots and recommendations on my notes app, so generously added by many folks, were not checked off the list (sorry). Though all the spots checked off were fantastic. There is only so much time in a long weekend, so many hours in a day, and so long my achey 25 year-old legs can carry me. On some trips I’ll feel a certain remorse for missing a key cultural heritage site, or skipping a museum to sleep in, or not experiencing a popular dish in a notable neighborhood. But in Amsterdam, I felt plenty satisfied just enjoying the scenery around me and listening to my head and heart.
Hello Hotel Bulldog
My first and last day as a UvA student.
Morning reflections upon the canals
A quick hello to Vince Van Gogh
Canal tours are an integral part of a visit to Amsterdam, according to it being listed four times in my crowdsourced recommendations note. As I shivered in the cold one night and waited in a massive queue to board my boat tour, we were told that there was too much traffic on the canal and our boat would be delayed around an hour. Congestion pricing has not yet been tested in these waters. The unrelenting chill of the wind impolitely suggested I should leave, so I obliged. My feet may not be a boat but there was still enough fuel in the motor to simply walk the "HOLIDAY FESTIVE AMSTERDAM CANAL CHRISTMAS HOLIDAY LIGHTS CANAL TOUR AMSTERDAM" my damn self.
After a few passes over the bridges and along the canals to see an assortment of festive and cheery holiday lights, my ever smart and wise feet brought me to a bar to watch soccer. There I quickly encountered some lads from Valencia filled with boisterous energy, that fun Spaniard blend of inviting and assertive. They convinced me to stay, with a few cervezas, to meet their friend who so happened to be a top flight keeper for the club NEC. By the time he arrived, I was kitted in a jersey with his name on it, singing local their Valencia club chants, and celebrating his penalty save in the day's 2-2 draw. A los Javis, saludos a vosotros.
My own soccer experience came the next day at the Johan Cruyff Arena. Named for the giant of Dutch football who defined the modern game, Ajax FC were taking on their rivals Feyenoord FC. Courtesy of a very fortunate collegial connection and some ticket generosity, I found myself seated behind the goal with a friendly lifelong fan from Amsterdam. Ajax took the game 2-0 and the atmosphere in the stadium thumped, bumped, and pulsated each minute. Ajax put on a dominating performance for 90 minutes, and though only sealed the deal with a late goal, looked at ease with some brilliant footy for the home fans. Ecstasy and relief released when the ref blew his whistle for full-time. In addition to a new scarf for my collection, I'll bring back the gratitude to have experienced yet another iconic stadium, historic club, and thousands of passionate home fans in love with the beautiful game.
Though a quick non-chronological non-sequitur: British football fans might be one of the funniest species on the planet. Upon my arrival at 11 am on day one, drunk Nottingham Forest fans dotted the canals with beers and frequent shouts of “you reds” before their 6 pm game against Utrecht. I’ve already written enough about British football fans in Manchester and London, so no need to continue much further.
Ajax FC scarf in hand as a real fan
Locking down the rivalry win
Holiday festivities at Museumplein
Like this canal boat, I too contain multitudes
Sometimes I do get sick of writing in platitudes or recounting only the highlights of a trip and not the lowlights. There were times in Amseterdam where I did not feel like my best self. Tired and and hangry at 5 pm after 15,000 steps. Walking briskly through the late night wind which cut deep through my light layers. Unable to find a cafe open before a 9 am museum tour. Stomach in a whirl after the eating the heaviest eggiest omelette of all time and enjoying a few too many the night before. The waiter who asked me "why just you" when I requested a table for one. A heavy morning drizzle that made it hard to sit on a bench and enjoy the park. Sometimes on these trips I feel sad and tired and lonely and why the fuck not - it's my right. Adding a layer of honesty and vulnerability to these pieces makes them feel more authentic and accurate. It's okay to feel sprinkles of doubt or have imperfect moments on trips. I think even meaningful solo trips are meant to have some of these memories. Those times only make us stronger.
My impromptu trip to Amsterdam taught me the value of trust. Trust is about faith, about believing good outcomes will be possible with the right mindset and initiative to get that result. Trust takes teamwork. Trust is letting others show you the way. Trust is the accepting that your journey will have unplanned destinations along the way. Trust takes understanding that you might not get it right the first time but persistence pays off in the end. Trust involves a mix of using your abilities and recognizing not everything is in your control. Trust is finding quiet through constant noise. Trust is finding beauty in any environment. Trust is finding light in darkness.
Trust those around you. Trust that guy at the bar who said he studied abroad in Amsterdam in 2017. Trust the shopkeeper who gives you a discount on a small painting because it’s for your grandma. Trust the crowd of people filling an entire plaza for a pop up fashion show at night. Trust those Spanish lads you meet outside in a bar who say their friend is a professional goalkeeper. Trust the Dutch soccer fan whose brother’s friend in Boston is your boss. Trust your colleagues and friends and family. Trust wherever your feet may take you. Trust the world. Trust the universe. Trust that good things will come your way. Trust your soul. Above all, trust yourself. Trust yourself. You're all you've got.