Travel with Manfred

Travelogues from around the world

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Copyright © 1998 by Manfred P.. All rights reserved.

Aug 1, 1998

Gay Parade 98

Another Day in Amsterdam

by

Manfred P.

Keywords: Netherlands, Amsterdam, Gay Games 98, tourist, travel trip report, travel log, travelogue.

"Can you find me a hotel for $50?" "No. " "How about $75," I ask. "Let’s see," she says. A few keystrokes, one or two calls. "Sorry, no. It’s really bad." "Try $100," I respond thinking this is my last offer. I see the search index run from 1 through 400. No matches. Shit. "Try dorms please." Another search, a few matches a few calls. Finally I am proud owner of a bed in a room with 5 other guys. At least it’s for $20. I gave up wondering why sometimes all hotel rooms in cities are fully booked a long time ago. It doesn’t seem to follow any laws of nature anyway. It seems often random. Who knows.

While walking to the train station at Shipol, I see some big posters and registration desks for Gay Games 98. Yeah, didn’t I just read today in the Financial Times that sponsorship for the event is weak and that this is another reason why the games are so important? If big multinationals are not sponsoring it through advertisement, then more gay awareness is necessary. I didn’t actually read the article in the newspaper, but I scanned the title and subtitle. Looks like the Gay Games 98 are in Amsterdam. Somehow when I saw the newspaper article I immediately concluded that they would be somewhere in the US. An incorrect assumption as it turns out. From the train I need to switch to the tram. The tram is packed full; some people don’t even bother to get on. "Never been to Tokyo," I think silently. I have no time to wait around and crowds never bothered me, so I squeeze in. I hear some US accent and turn around. Two guys stand behind me with big yellow id tags hanging around their neck. I look at them "Gay Games 98, Tennis, USA". Looking through the crowd I see a lot more of these bright can’t-be- missed id tags. Most of the people carrying them don’t look very athletic. I conclude that the games are more about fun and about fostering understanding and cultural exchange than about competitive records and excellence in sport.

I drop the backpack and laptop at the hostel, which is not far from the Van Gogh Museum and the Rijksmuseum. I skip the museums. I already visited 2 or 3 this year. So, in my eyes I fulfilled the museum quota already. Instead I opt for some people watching and browsing through some artistic (and some less artistic) postcards. More of these yellow id tag wearing men and women on the streets and the cafes. No wonder all hotels are full.

My stroll brings me via the Pieter Cornelisz Hooftstraat, a fancy fashion street with shops like DKNY and Porsches in the parking lots, and the Vondelpark to Leidseplein. Leidseplein is usually a spot for evening entertainment, bars, and coffee places. Today there must have been some other daytime activities. There was a long line standing in front of one of the buildings with some pink and yellow flags. I wasn’t too curious what the people line up for, so I moved on. Just to run into more people lining the Prinsengracht, one of the many waterways in Amsterdam.

Tons of people along the Prinsengracht and on the bridges and Gay Games 98 taking place. I put one and one together: there must be a Gay Parade scheduled. Sure enough, 15 minutes later we heard whistles and music and the first boats started to appear in the distance. The boats ranged from large vessels to small boats holding a handful of people. Most were well decorated with music streaming from the boomboxes. Some boats looked like a family on a Saturday afternoon cruise with a bit of a picnic on board. The ideas and imagination of the boat designers were as good as those of Van Gogh. The Gay-LM, Royal Bitch Airlines, vessel was most likely one of the most amusing. Their safety instructions were also a bit more amusing than those on real planes are. A few strip joints had their staff out advertising with some live show. Nice top, nice behinds, and nice dancers for the most part. Other boats had industrial-size water guns drenching in particular the people on the bridges. One of the vessels sponsored by a bar had a giant air-inflated bodybuilder do push-ups to a fast beat. Some drag queens were more feminine and better looking than some women I know. It wasn’t all about being gay. Most participants just wanted to have fun. A party for everyone, independent of sexual preferences.

The boats kept on coming and coming. There was no end. I felt a bit sorry for the mostly half- naked people on the boats. It was not that warm and cloudy. I felt a bit chilly in my sweater. They must have been out there for hours. Surprisingly, they didn’t look like they were freezing. Maybe it’s the dancing, maybe just the thrill of being seen. Anyway, after a few hours I gave up. I had seen enough.

Having missed the Love Parade in Berlin for two years, this was an unplanned but matching alternative to the mega dance party in Berlin.