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Banana Boxes and Guardian Angels Pt. 2, Chp. 2

August 1, 2020

Chapter 2 
Europe/ Boston


 We landed in Luxembourg in the early evening and took a train for Frankfurt. There were no rooms available so we decided to continue on to Amsterdam where we finally stopped riding the trains. It was very late and with the ominous Amsterdam Centraal station over our shoulders we found a room in a small hotel and bar. The place was loud, busy, scary, dark and used primarily by hookers. Welcome to Europe! The next day we walked across the square to the Park Plaza Hotel to get our bearings and a bath. After that we found a room on the top floor of a quaint hotel on a picturesque canal.

 
  Amsterdam was a wonder, beautiful. It was my first taste of Europe and I loved it. The liberalism of this city suited me all to well. I marveled at the amazing museums and the red-light district with the hookers displaying themselves in windows. There were the clubs like the Paradiso where you could smoke & purchase hashish. For this teenager it was Paradise. We had brought Windowpane LSD with us, smuggled in our luggage tags. One afternoon after scoring hashish laced with opium we decided to combine the two, a bad idea, again. We had a frightening time of it, especially Vincent. We left Amsterdam for England.

 

 My juggling balls on the window sill in Amsterdam


  Across the channel and on to London. After visiting some of the tourist attractions and the Tate Museum we headed to Paulton, a village in NE Somerset, England. We stayed with a chess obsessed relative of Vincents for a few days. At night we we crossed cow pastures with the local boys to get to the pub, get drunk, play darts and eat fish & chips. Muddy shoes.
 Ireland was next and into Dublin where once again we stayed with the Irish painter that put us up in Boston. We then rented a cottage in the middle of nowhere on the upper river Liffey, next to an ancient graveyard. Vincent would write and I would draw, as we always did. We drank Bitters with the local farmers while singing revolutionary songs. We tripped often and smoked our Dutch hashish.

 

 


I don't remember the trip back to Boston.


 

 

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