Europe adventure. Day 11 of 34.

Written on the train to Florence on day 15.

It was predicted to be the hottest day in Amsterdam that summer (so far) and I had decided to do a bike tour of the countryside. What made me decide that? A museum would have made more sense. But it was my last day in Amsterdam and biking was something I just had to do before I left. You can't go to Amsterdam and not ride a bike at all. I mean, I've heard the same thing about smoking marijuana and I had no intention of doing that, but biking out of the city did sound nice when I thought about it. I would see parts of Amsterdam I hadn't already seen, more of the traditional Holland type of experience, with the windmills and the wooden clogs.

Well it was almost too hot to be enjoyable, even though the breeze you got when riding a bike was nice. Now, looking back after being in Rome, I should have enjoyed the cool weather. At the time, after getting not enough sheep and already feeling sluggish, I struggled a bit. I also didn't eat very much before the tour, which I regret.

But more about the actual tour, which I have to say was worth it. Our guide was a middle aged Dutch woman with too much makeup and a biker chick fashion sense (short-shorts and fishnets, black boots and spiky bleached hair). She spoke English very well and very fast, but with strange inflections on some words and unexpected emphasis on others. Just that was very entertaining, but her hilarious sense of humor and constant joking around made her a terrific guide.

She took us out of the city and to a real old Dutch windmill next to a busy road. It was a kind of strange sight, definitely not the patchworked farmland I picture with a windmill like that, but still very nice to see. Then we went to a farm where they made cheese and wooden clogs. We got a little tour around, tried some cheese, wore some clogs, and were kicked back out into the heat. I bought some delicious cheese, but didn't get a chance to ever eat it, because I waited too long and it went bad (stupid blistering weather).

On the way back to the city we took a different route, going along the beautiful river and then through some very nice parkland. I am glad we also road through Vondelpark a bit, because it is a very pretty place right next to my hostel and I had not explored it much at all.

I was going to try and see another museum or something in the last couple of hours before I left that night, but I was too tired and hungry after the tour. I stopped on the way back to the hostel and for some wonderful gelato, and then back at the hostel ate leftover spaghetti and meat sauce that I had made the night before.

After eating I checked in with my host for Rome and he told me I couldn't stay with him after all. In a panic, I messaged another person who had offered to host me, and he told me I could stay with him for one night. A little reassured, I hung out in the cool hostel for a my last two hours in Amsterdam, snacking on strawberries, and then left to go catch the bus.

Traveling on the bus and the plane was crowded and not very pleasant, but soon I was in Rome, catching the train from the airport to the place where Kenzo, my host for the night, was living. There was an odd Italian guy who sat next to me on the almost empty bus and spent the entire time hitting on me in bad English, which made the trip a little weird. I tried to be as polite and talkative as I could, but went into awkward silence when he tried to get close enough to kiss my neck. I didn't know what to think of my first impression of Italian men.

I found Kenzo as soon as I got off of the train, and we walked back to his apartment, talking about my travels so far. His apartment was very cute, with nice decor and overall cleanliness making the place feel a bit bigger than it was. When Kenzo offered to show me around the city in his motorcycle at midnight, of course I said yes. I wanted to see Rome! The motorcycle just made me even more excited. I love riding on a motorcycle. I really do. Especially in Rome, where weaving in and out of the cars and driving fast on city streets is normal. The hardest part for me that night was not hitting my helmet on Kenzo's every time we went over a bump or slowed down quickly. That and I didn't know if I liked being so close to him, having just met him and not sure how we got along yet.

Kenzo was a very good tour guide, telling me the names of all the places we passed (though I would not remember a word), joking around to make me feel more comfortable being on a motorcycle and making me close my eyes when we got off at The Trevi Fountain. That was an amazing surprise. It is so beautiful at night. Just amazing. The pictures could never do it justice.

I think Kenzo picked up on my general wariness that night, with the closeness of the motorcycle ride and the idea of sleeping in the same bed (there was just no other place to sleep). Of course I am cautious! I am a girl traveling on my own, in a committed relationship and not interested in casual sex even if I wasn't. And it is Italy, where I knew most men feel they have to try to make a move on every girl they are attracted to, especially American girls (I guess we are easy?).

So maybe I was acting a bit distant, trying to attest the situation. It was not that I didn't trust that I was safe with Kenzo, because I could tell he was a very nice guy. I just wasn't sure if he wanted anything more from me than I was willing to offer. But I think I may have offended him, pushing away his hand when he placed it on my leg, lying down with a good two feet between us. He asked me if he was different than I expected. I said no, and asked him the same.

His reply was that I was more shy. I think that may have meant less intimate than he would have liked, than what he wanted when he agreed to host me. I was being as friendly as I usually am with hosts, who are going out of their way to welcome me into their home. I did not really want to cuddle in bed (or anything else) and I told him that. He seemed sad, I felt kind of bad about that. I didn't want him to feel like I didn't like him as a person, because he was overall very kind, interesting and fun to talk to. I saw him try a bit unsuccessfully to make light of the situation, talking for a while before we went to sleep.

In the end I slept well that night and Kenzo was a very good host. I am hugely grateful that he helped me out so last minute and don't know what I would have done otherwise. And I feel like when we were just talking about movies or YouTube videos or other random things there was very little uncomfortableness. I honestly think we might have been friends, had we spent more time getting to know each other.

The train is arriving now. On to Florence!