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I walk out of the train station (above) and notice an odd scent wafting through the night air. As I navigate all the construction and dodge crazy cyclists, I recognize the odor: marijuana. Yep, I'm in Amsterdam!
But I'm getting ahead of myself. My latest travels started last Sunday morning when I headed to Heathrow airport for a 45 minute flight to Amsterdam, followed by a 25 minute flight on a propeller plane to Maastricht, which is one of the oldest cities in the Netherlands (It fights for the title with Nijmegen). I can't remember the last time I took a connecting flight rather than a direct one, but it did allow me to walk through the nice Amsterdam airport, which amusingly has cheese counters everywhere.
When I arrived in Maastricht, I looked for the bus that went into town. But I got nervous about how often it ran on a winter Sunday night so I went back to the taxi stand. Uh-oh--empty. The airport is small enough that the taxis know when the few flights arrive and they had already left with the passengers smart enough to quickly grab a cab. But then a Finnish couple came to my rescue. The husband saw my plight and when his wife rolled up, they offered me ride to my hotel. As I hopped into their car, I briefly wondered if this was the smartest idea but they were very nice and we had a delightful chat on U.S. politics.
I went to Maastricht for a 2 day workshop on whether prizes can stimulate medical innovation i.e. could offering a billion dollar prize for a AIDS vaccine do more than, say, working through the normal drug patent system. Some see prizes as a way to stimulate drug research on neglected diseases; other see prizes as a way to break monopolies held by pharmaceutical companies and to lower drug prices overall. Interesting debate.
Maastrich itself was nice, though I had little time to play tourist. The city is in the most southern part of the Netherlands and almost as French and German as Dutch. A university town, Maastrich thankfully has many open restaurants on winter nights--unlike our experience in Provence! After I checked into my hotel--across the street from the train station!--I walked the cute cobble-stone streets and eventually settled into an Argentinian steakhouse where I curiously watched groups of people walk by in clown garb and other costumes. A trio dressed in wigs and colorful outfits at one point strolled won the street playing a tuba and 2 other horns. After talking to various waiters, I learned everyone is preparing for carnival in Maastricht. While Brazil may be most famous for its Carnival, many other places also have the pre-Lent festivities. Every weekend people are "practicing" for the big event in Maastricht, I was told. And during carnival, the whole town--cabbies, shopkeepers--are in costume. Indeed, anyone out of costume looks odd, a waiter told me. I liked Maastricht's whimsy--fun storefronts and cafes with amusing decorations, and some intriguing public art throughout the squares.
After my meeting ended Tuesday, I walked back to the hotel, picked up my luggage, walked across the street, jumped on a trained and 3 minutes later was on my way to Amsterdam. The train systems are something I really envy Europe. I read a newspaper, watched a DVD, and 2.5 hours later I arrived in Amsterdam, where I had a Wednesday meeting of science policy VIPs, including my publication's new head honcho who I was going to meet for the first time.
Again settling in was easy. I walked about 7 minutes from the central station to the delightful tropical-themed B&B I had booked when I found few decent hotels available at the last minute. The next morning I strolled over the Royal Netherlands Academy of Arts and Sciences, which occupied a beautiful building (far left). To be 
honest, I have mixed feelings about Amsterdam. It can be a beautiful city, with gorgeous canals, great museums, and fun cafes open later. But it's also riddled with drugs and panhandlers--it's, well, sketchy in too many areas for my comfort. Note that just a block away from the prestigious academy was the city's famous red-light district (left), where prositution is legal, live sex shows draw gaping tourists all year round, and window-shopping takes on a whole new meaning (Wikipedia tells me several stories on the origin of the term red-light district ). The owners of the B&B I stayed at surprised me with the news that the city had just bought out a number of brothels in the red-light district and was converting them to fashion design houses as part of an attempt to slightly clean up area. No open expects the red-light district to completely disappear, however.
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