Just back in the country after spending three weeks in Northern Europe with my partner, Helen. It's the trip I've been postponing for two years -- a chance to visit the good folks at Cupido magazine on their home turf in Oslo, Norway, with some vacationing in Amsterdam, Norway, Denmark, and Germany thrown in. While this was more of a general vacation than a sex tour, I do keep my antennae up for sexual vibes, so here are some random reports and observations from points along the way. After hauling our bags in from the airport and up three flights of ridiculously steep, typically Dutch, stairs we hit the streets and quickly fall in love with the city in all its picture postcard glory -- a beautiful, relaxed, easy-going town of a city, more like San Francisco than New York or Chicago.
Everywhere we look there are sexy ads for a perfume called Mexx. A naked woman embracing a naked black man. A naked woman being embraced by another woman. In search of sexual Amsterdam, we wander around the main train station which feels distinctly and disappointingly like New York's 42nd Street. Announcements over public loudspeakers warn of pickpockets, and everything reeks of shlock.
Eventually we find our way to the nearby red light district, where prostitutes sit in their famous windows while passers-by wander around, looking them up and down. The oglers are a mixture of tourist families often including children , and all sorts of men, more often in groups than alone.
The guys in groups are more boisterous and more offensive than the ones alone, making salacious jokes while openly leering at or ridiculing the women, daring each other to actually talk to one, or even go have sex with her. The women for the most part are obviously bored to tears. Some pose seductively for the guys, many don't even bother to do that. Every now and then there's someone who manages at least the pretense of a little real life or playfulness.
I don't know what I expected, but the undeniable heaviness of the scene is disappointing. Helen gets bored and goes to the hotel, but I come back, determined to see if I can make something interesting of the scene. I check out the few peep shows where they try to shortchange you every single time you try to convert a bill to coins , but the shows are virtually devoid of sexy energy, essentially hustles for one-on-one private shows. The live sex shows "real fucking" promise to be unbearably tacky and are expensive to boot.
